Downward Spiral
By Jarvinia

This story starts mid-late second season.  As for a rating, probably
on the high end of PG-13 for, well, violence and a couple of not-so-
pretty scenes!  And I feel I should apologise to any NatPackers.
Can't say more here, though.  Again, sorry.  :(

Many thanks to my beta-reader!  I've since read through it enough
times that any mistakes are most definitely mine, though!  May not be
archived without permission.  No infringement is intended through
borrowing the FK characters.

Comments, suggestions, dark chocolate, white chocolate, and vampires
are more than welcome!

Enjoy!


Downward Spiral - (01/27)

[Mid-late February, 1995]

"Where is he?" Janette asked as she impatiently paced.

LaCroix placed the last bottle of the moderate supply of human blood
they had brought into Nick's refrigerator.  Hand still clutching the
neck of the last bottle, LaCroix closed his eyes for a moment.
Reopening them, he stated, "Nicholas will be here shortly."

Sure enough, a few minutes later--just enough time for LaCroix to stow
away the box he had brought the bottles in and for Janette's worry to
intensify as dawn approached--the elevator sprang to life.  Instantly,
Janette flew over to the elevator and waited for it to arrive.  As
soon as Nick pulled the door open and stepped out, Janette kissed him
desperately on the lips.  It was a very brief kiss, however, and
pulling back, Janette led Nick toward the couch.  She sat down and
tugged on Nick's arm, trying to get him to do the same.

"What is going on?" Nick asked, turning first to LaCroix and then back
to an almost distraught Janette.

"Please, Nicolas, sit," Janette pleaded, again trying to pull him
toward the cushions.

Still baffled by both Janette and LaCroix' presence, Nick initially
hesitated but did do as asked with Janette's insistence.  Almost
instantly, he found Janette leaning heavily against his shoulder.
"Janette--"

"Tell him, LaCroix," Janette whispered, not lifting her head.

Nick looked toward LaCroix.  He nearly stood back up, but Janette
still held on to him.  "What's going on?" Nick again asked, this time
more insistent.  "Why are you both here, now, so close to dawn?"

LaCroix remained frozen in place.  After a few more seconds, he simply
stated, "We are being hunted."

"We?" Nick asked, his worry rising.

"Vampires, Nicolas.  Vampires," Janette told him.

"They are silently killing us.  Murdering us, executing us," LaCroix
explained, hissing the last with anger.

It took a moment before the statement sunk in.  By LaCroix' tone this
was far more serious than a couple of random killings.  "How long?"

"Three weeks.  Perhaps longer."  LaCroix paused before further
explaining, "At first, it was believed to be a couple of lucky
hunters.  A coincidence."

"But then?"

When LaCroix looked away, Janette whispered, "Dozens have died,
Nicolas."

Nick pushed Janette away and stood.  "How do you know this, LaCroix?"

"Initially, there was nothing more than faint rumours and mentions
floating among us.  After a week of recent deaths, Aristotle and
others started examining--"

"And the Enforcers?" Nick asked, cutting LaCroix off.

"Busy," LaCroix answered.  He walked to the kitchen and pulled out an
empty wine glass.  He turned it in his fingers several times.
"Enraged."  LaCroix snapped the glass' stem and let the pieces drop to
the counter.

Nick took a step closer.  "LaCroix?"

Janette stood and walked up to Nick, her hands resting on his
shoulders.  "LaCroix has tried talking to them, questioning them...but
they won't--"

"They are at a loss."  LaCroix spun to face Nick and Janette.  "It's
clear that they were caught off-guard.  They have done nothing but
lose ground since this began."

"Some of us believe those hunting us not only know about the
Enforcers, but that they have killed a number of them, purposely, so
that they could not as easily be stopped," Janette whispered.  She
closed her eyes, then more firmly told Nick, "It is becoming difficult
to obtain what we need, Nicolas.  I have already had a few shipments
simply not arrive...."

"It is becoming dangerous for those buying or selling blood," LaCroix
said.

Nick tensed.  He was running low on cow's blood and would need more
soon.  And if Janette was having trouble getting shipments for the
Raven....  "Then they'll find us," Nick whispered.

"Yes," Janette confirmed.  "We...brought you a modest supply of
blood."

"Human?" he asked, turning sharply toward Janette.

"Of course," LaCroix said.  Seeing Nick ready to protest, he
continued, "It would not be wise to obtain blood--even animal blood--
from mortals.  I am sure even you can see the reasons behind that."

At the remark, Nick instinctively sent a glare at LaCroix.  However,
after a moment, he relaxed and nodded.  If he had to consume human
blood to avoid attention being brought to him, then he would.

"It should last you several weeks, at least," Janette softly told him.

Nick turned away from both of them, his thoughts starting to run wild.
This could not be happening.  "Those doing this...."

"Mortals," LaCroix answered.

After a moment, Janette elaborated, "A large and very organised group
of them.  Possibly even an...official organisation."

LaCroix nearly glared at Janette, but nodded instead.  "They are
efficient, careful, and have well-thought plans.  They are too
organised for a small group, and too methodical to be doing this on a
whim.  It is suspected that their operations are funded; but whether
privately or through more official sources, we don't know."  LaCroix
started across the room and toward the elevator.  He turned back and
turned to his daughter.  "Janette?"

"I am staying here, LaCroix.  It is after dawn and--"

LaCroix left, giving barely a glance to Janette as her response cut
off.

Once Nick had recovered from LaCroix' quick departure, he turned to
Janette.

"LaCroix, how--"

"You sense it?" she asked, stepping closer.

Nick hesitated, glancing away.

Janette turned Nick's gaze back to her.  "You do, don't you?"

"He is pushing himself, tiring himself."

"Yes.  He knows."  Janette reached her arms up to and around Nick's
shoulders.  "He'd be flattered that you care."

"Flattered or surprised?"

Janette didn't answer, instead kissing him.

Nick instantly pulled back, asking, "Is there anything more?"

"No," Janette said, honestly.  "Nothing yet.  And Nicolas...most of
the others know nothing of this of yet.  It could be nothing...."

"Or it could be the end of us."

Janette went to kiss Nick again, and when he turned away, she rested
her head on his shoulder, where he then held her close.  Nick didn't
resist her, for which she was glad.  Even if he had pulled back she
wouldn't have cared as long as he allowed her to stay.  Even in
silence, his company helped ease her nerves.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

It had taken Nick several weeks to tell Natalie what was happening.
He only managed it after Janette had asked him if he had...and then
asked how his blood supply was doing.  Between realising he would run
out of blood within days and feeling the nervousness of the other
vampires in the Raven on his most recent visits, he knew he couldn't
put it off any longer.  Finally, he told Natalie to come over just
before sunset.

And now that he had told her, the last embers of twilight nearly gone,
he was at a loss of what to say as her attention became unfocused and
drifted away from him.  "Nat?"

Natalie slowly sat down on Nick's couch, having earlier ignored his
suggestion to do so.  Glancing around the room, nothing seemed
missing.  "When, ah, will you be leaving?"

"In a few weeks, a couple of months at most.  It depends on what
happens.  I'll probably leave a couple weeks after Janette leaves,
just in case...ah...."

"In case the Raven has been targeted as a gathering place for
vampires."

Nick nodded.

"Do you know when she'll leave?"

"No.  It might be premature to make a move now.  It also might draw
unneeded attention."

"Nick...."

"Natalie, so far it is still nothing but a few coincidental deaths.
It might not become anything more."

Seeing his point, Natalie slowly nodded her head.  No reason to panic
too much just yet.  She felt uneasy about this, though.  Vampires,
being hunted, perhaps even discovered?  It was literally absurd.  But
Nick was telling her that it might be happening.  "Ah, how much blood
do you have?"

"Not much," he told her, not meeting her eyes.  He was nearly out.  He
had had a glass the previous night and had less than half a bottle
left.

"If you need more, I could probably get some from--"

"No.  Natalie, it--"

"It would draw attention, if someone's checking records.  Yeah, I
know, I just thought if you needed a little, I could maybe go to a
butcher or something?"

"I do appreciate the thought," he told her, managing a slight smile.
"But I do have enough blood.  It's not as much as I would prefer, but
it's enough.  Besides, since meeting you I've gotten better at
tolerating less blood, even none for a short time."

Natalie stared silently at Nick.  He wasn't going to budge.  But if he
thought he had enough, that he could handle it...what could she say?
She wanted to go check how much he had, see for herself that he would
be fine, but that would likely only make Nick tense.  And her, as
well.  Her eyes then caught on a clock.  Nick had to leave for work in
just a few minutes, and she needed to go home to eat and get ready for
work before her shift started in another several hours.  "I guess I
should let you finish getting ready for work.  I didn't expect--"

"I know.  I didn't expect this to happen, either."

Natalie gradually inched backward toward the elevator.  Reluctant to
leave, she told him, "I'll see you later, okay?  Maybe drop by on your
lunch break, if you're not busy?"  She watched him give a quick nod
and realised she was not the only one disbelieving of what was
happening.  Nick didn't want this at all.  From his sluggish
reactions, she suspected he was still in a near state of shock.
Natalie gave Nick a smile, her lips barely turning up at the corners
and her eyes not quite managing to hide her worry, and then she turned
and went to the elevator.  The longer she stayed, the less time Nick
would have to leave for work.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"Nicolas, do not drink from any of the bottles LaCroix dropped off
last night," Janette said, appearing abruptly at Nick's shortly after
sunset.

Nick paused for a couple of seconds.  Had he heard that correctly?  It
had been nearly two weeks since he had told Natalie what was
happening, but in that time he hadn't heard anything new from either
Janette or LaCroix.

"You haven't had any of it yet, have you?"

Nick slowly stepped toward Janette as he saw her distress multiply.
"No," he answered, slowly shaking his head.  "Why?  Has something
happened?"

"Yes.  The blood had been tampered with.  Poisoned.  LaCroix and a few
others have become quite ill.  Throw it out.  Get rid of it."

Nick froze.  "LaCroix?"

"He will recover."

"And the blood?"

"I have told as many of the young ones as I can to leave the city if
possible and that I have yet to find a new supplier."

"Will you be able to find another?"

Janette didn't want to answer.  She knew it would merely increase both
of their panic if he knew there was no chance to obtain another
supplier, not after the current mess.

"How are they doing this to us, Janette?  And why?"

"I do not know.  And I also do not know how much longer I am going to
keep the Raven open, but it won't be more than a few days."  Janette
turned away.  "How much blood do you have?  LaCroix mentioned it
wasn't much, but he didn't say...."

"Some," Nick quickly replied, glad LaCroix hadn't told Janette any
specifics.  He had run out over a week ago, a few days after he had
told Natalie what was going on.  He had finished it when Janette had
told him of another shipment.  "But it's not enough."

Janette nodded.  "I suspected as much.  We are completely out."
Seeing what she thought was Nick preparing to make an offer, she shook
her head.  "No, Nicolas, neither myself nor LaCroix will accept any of
the little you have.  LaCroix made that very clear.  We will be fine
for the time it will take for us to leave."

"Janette...how much longer will you stay?"

"The Raven will be closed within a week.  LaCroix and I will leave
soon after."  Janette paused, again glancing away.  "When will you
leave?"

"I don't know."

Janette snapped her attention back to Nick.  "It's time, Nicolas.  You
won't be able to stay much longer.  However much you have liked your
life here, you must leave it."

Nick closed his eyes.  "Three weeks, maybe a month.  Maybe less."

"You have enough blood for that?"

Nick first averted his eyes, then turned and walked away from Janette.
He couldn't lie to her.

"You're out, aren't you?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"How long?"

"A week and a half."

Janette half-tensed, a tremor nearly passing through her.  "You won't
make it, Nicolas."

"And I can't leave when you go!  It would be too suspicious if anyone
is watching me.  I can't risk it.  My life is too entwined with the
mortals.  I'll have to wait."

Carefully watching the other, Janette couldn't tell which emotions
were from the hunger and which were from stress.  "How are you doing
so far?"

"I'm fine for now.  I've gone longer than this in the past, you know
that."

"Yes, but in the past you've been well fed before--"

"Janette, I'll--"  Nick stopped, taking in a calming breath.  He
turned back to her and took her hands.  "I'll think of something,
Janette.  I know I'll have to do...something.  But the longer I can
wait, the better.  I'll join you and LaCroix as soon as I can, as soon
as it's safe.  I promise."

Janette smiled, forcibly.  Nick would be fine.  He was resourceful
enough...as long as he didn't break first.

"You'll...come see me before you leave?" he asked, hopeful.

"Yes.  In fact..." Janette started, her smile becoming far more
genuine, then told him, "I have a request...."


Downward Spiral - (02/27)

Several days later and long after the sun rose, Natalie decided to go
by Nick's to see how he was doing.  As she walked slowly out of the
elevator, her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and caught on the
couch, where it looked like someone had been sleeping.  A second
later, she felt a hand on her shoulder and then gasped at the touch,
only for a hand to cover her mouth.

"Do not be alarmed," LaCroix said, and then he slowly spun Natalie so
that she was facing him, first lowering his hand and then releasing
her.

"LaCroix," Natalie stated, recognising the voice.

Janette appeared at the balcony for a moment before flying down to
stand next to LaCroix.  "Nicolas is sleeping," she stated.

Natalie, who already suspected that, asked, "Why are you two here?"

"We are leaving," Janette answered.  "I have closed the Raven, and we
needed a place to stay for a couple of days."  Janette then smiled as
warmly as was possible considering her hunger.  She then reached out
her hand and took Natalie's.  "Come, I'm sure you would like to see
Nicolas, and he you."

Natalie, a bit uncomfortable at being led to Nick's bedroom by
Janette, followed the vampiress up the stairs.  Once in his room, she
was surprised that Nick wasn't yet awake...although he did wake as she
approached the bed.  How weak was he to not react until she was in the
room, merely feet from him?

"Nat, what--"

"I had thought I might come over, just to talk, see how you are
doing..." she said, not mentioning Janette or LaCroix, or that she
would rather have left when she found them there and talked to Nick
later that night.

"Tired," Nick stated.  His eyes flashed gold involuntarily, his hunger
spiking for a brief moment.  He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"Nick?"

"I'm okay.  Really."

"Have you, ah, heard anything more?"

Nick looked away.  He really didn't want to talk about this.

At the hesitation, Janette told Natalie, "It has merely gotten worse. 
More have died.  And short of live prey, we no longer have a reliable
source of blood."  Seeing Natalie tense, she added, "It is far too
dangerous to hunt even animals, let alone mortals...and certainly not
so close to the city."

Natalie nodded, aware that whether victims ended up alive or dead, no
attention needed to be brought against vampires right now.  Too many
odd deaths just might reveal them, forget that they were being
targeted by some type of hunters.  "Ah, Nick, we can talk later,
perhaps?  I can--" Natalie stopped when Nick's arm darted out, his
fingers gripping her hand.  "Nick..."

He loosened his hold, but didn't release Natalie's hand.  Lightly, he
pulled her gently toward him.  "Stay," he said, pushing back the
covers in front of him.

"But..." Natalie began to protest, her eyes darting in Janette's
direction.  She felt out of place with others also at Nick's.  She
felt as if she was intruding, especially as she could see by how the
comforter lay that Janette had been sleeping in here with Nick before
she had arrived.

"Please, Natalie.  I have no intention to push you away now, not when
I'll be leaving soon."  Nick tugged a bit more on Natalie's hand and
could feel her reluctance.  But he wouldn't give up, not yet.

Natalie glanced again toward Janette and was surprised when she did
not appear disapproving and even more surprised when Janette nodded,
as if telling her she should do as Nick was urging, that it was okay. 
She closed her eyes and let Nick pull her forward, only opening her
eyes as she reached the bed and lay down.

Nick then pulled Natalie closer, so that she was lying right next to
him.  He closed his eyes, telling Natalie softly to relax.  A few
moments later, he felt Janette lie back down on the other side of the
bed, distracting him for a short moment.  Nick then fell asleep, still
listening to Natalie's heartbeat and its calming tones.

Natalie lay awake for nearly half an hour, still uncomfortable with
Janette so close and LaCroix just downstairs.  Janette didn't bother
her much, although she did feel like she was intruding upon something.
But LaCroix...she had never even met him before that night.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nick woke mid-afternoon to the sound of Natalie's beating heart.  His
attention fully locked on the sleeping rhythm in an instant, and he
could think of only one thing--blood.

Through a golden haze, his eyes quickly zoomed in on a patch of
visible skin on Natalie's side, where her shirt had inched its way up.
In a second, he had sunk his fangs into the flesh and took the gently
pulsing blood as quickly as possible.

Natalie woke abruptly, gasping in pain.  Outwardly, she panicked even
as a part of her knew that it was Nick who had bitten her.  But that
knowledge did very little to comfort her, particularly given he seemed
to have just acted and didn't even give a hint to her that he
might....

Janette also woke from a combination of Natalie's increased pulse and
her trying to push Nick away.  Her eyes widened upon seeing what Nick
was doing.  She tugged at his arm harshly.  "Nicolas, stop!" she
hissed.  "You must stop.  Natalie--"  She cut off as Nick had abruptly
pulled away from Natalie, seemingly stunned.

As soon as she could, out of instinct Natalie scrambled away.  She got
out of the bed only to stumble, light-headed, as she stood.  Hands
steadied her, at which she pulled away from the touch and glanced back
to find LaCroix.  He continued to hold her up, and she was somewhat
glad, as she doubted she could stand on her own.  She then turned to
face Nick.  He was still changed, her blood on his lips.  Seeing his
mixed expression of horror and fading pleasure, she realised he likely
hadn't intended to bite her.  "Nick?"

Nick tilted his head to the side and forward, closing his eyes.
Despite having taken Natalie's blood, he still craved more.  He wanted
to apologise, but the thought was overwhelmed by his hunger, and he
knew he couldn't dare speak.  What he dearly wanted, all that filled
his thoughts, was to take even more of Natalie's blood.

LaCroix led Natalie back to the bed and gently pressed down on her
shoulders, making her sit.  Then, he turned his focus to Nick and held
out his hand.  "Come, Nicholas."

Opening his eyes, Nick looked to LaCroix.  Fully aware that leaving
the room with LaCroix would likely mean being offered LaCroix' blood,
an offer that he presently would not be capable of refusing, Nick was
torn between leaving and staying.  He glanced to Natalie for a second,
his hunger flaring once again.  If he stayed, his hunger would only
get worse.  Knowing that, he took LaCroix' hand and followed him out
of the room.

Janette slowly walked over to Natalie and turned the mortal's gaze
upward with her hand.  "How do you feel, Natalie?"

Turning toward the door, Natalie barely heard the question.  Nick
seemed so....  "Nick...."

"He will be fine.  LaCroix will see to that."

Feeling a sinking feeling in her stomach, aware Nick would possibly
take LaCroix' blood, Natalie asked, "How long has it been since you've
had blood?"

"Myself?  A week."

"And LaCroix and Nick?"

"Two and a half weeks."

A bit shocked, Natalie whispered, somewhat disbelievingly, "Two and a
half weeks?"

Janette grimly nodded.  "I thought it was only a few days longer than
me, but...."  Janette shivered.  "I do not know how Nicolas lasted
this long."  She paused, and then suggested in a whisper, "He needs to
feed.  We all do, but Nicolas, especially.  Perhaps allow him to
occasionally take a small amount of your blood?  Nicolas does not plan
to stay too much longer, but it would greatly help him.
Maybe...suggest the idea to him?  I doubt he'll bring it up himself,
particularly after tonight."

Natalie, still stunned that Nick had gone so long without blood,
didn't reply, not even with a nod or a shake of her head.

Taking the other's silence as shock, perhaps even refusal, Janette
said, "I know this is a hard decision, and an abrupt one, but it would
help Nick.  He will starve himself if he has to.  He may even refuse,
no matter what you do or offer...."

"I want to, and I will, I'm just rather stunned.  I mean, two and a
half weeks?  And wasn't he restricting the blood before that?  I mean,
I've seen what happens when he goes without blood.  And he was
planning on, what, going weeks more?"

"It's difficult to believe, isn't it?  Even now I am so very
hungry...." Janette said, her voice lowering and eyes burning gold for
a moment.  She looked away and, then, turning back to Natalie, told
her in controlled tones, "We have all had very little blood since this
started.  I will have to wait to feed until after we have left
Toronto.  We all will."

"When are you...ah...."

"A few days.  LaCroix, I worry what--" Janette abruptly cut off, just
as LaCroix entered.  She hadn't sensed him.  "LaCroix, Nicolas--"

"Nicholas will be fine.  He is regaining his focus."

Natalie's eyes flitted toward wounds on LaCroix' wrist.

Noticing, LaCroix told her, "I will be fine, Doctor."  He then glared
at Janette.  "You know that I can tolerate such conditions much better
than you or Nicholas."  He then approached Natalie, his anger rising
when she pulled away from him, her pulse rising.  "Show me the wound,"
he simply ordered.

"Ah, wh--"

LaCroix flew the short distance to her, grabbing her from behind.  He
exposed where Nick had bitten her, the blood starting to dry and
obscure the actual wound.

"LaCroix!" Janette roughly whispered, shocked, as it looked like
LaCroix was going to bite her.

Natalie was momentarily frozen, feeling LaCroix' hands on her skin,
his lips brushing her skin near where Nick had bitten her.  She closed
her eyes, fearing pain, but she only felt him lick the blood away.
The touch was still far too personal, as Nick had bitten her high on
her side.

"What--" Janette started, but then cut off, as LaCroix pulled away and
released Natalie.

LaCroix then examined the now clean bite marks again, still holding
Natalie in place, even as she pushed against him.  He abruptly
released her once he had finished, the few drops of Natalie's blood
almost too much temptation given that Nick had just fed from him.
"You should be fine," he simply said, and then, telling them, "You
should both sleep," he left.

Still a bit taken aback at LaCroix' action, Natalie turned to Janette
while holding her shirt down and firmly against her.

"Natalie?"

"I'm okay.  Just, LaCroix, he--"

"He can be rather abrupt."  She walked over to Natalie and took one of
her hands.  The skin was so warm and tempting, but her hunger had
calmed with the shocks of the last few moments.  "LaCroix is right.
We should rest.  You, to regain your strength, and I, to conserve
mine."

Natalie nodded.  She hated this.  It's like events were being pushed
so that there was only one possibility.  She felt like her life was
being manipulated and couldn't imagine how Janette, Nick and LaCroix
felt right now.  Natalie allowed Janette to ease her back under the
covers, and this time it was barely a moment before she was asleep.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nearly a week later, Natalie told Nick she was going to drop by after
work.  Between Nick biting her and then LaCroix allowing Nick to take
some of his blood, Nick had seemed almost normal.  But she knew he
would need more blood soon, and she had remembered Janette's request
and her promise.  It wasn't hard to keep the promise, as she had
already considered suggesting it to him.  In fact, if she had known he
was out of blood, she would have offered her blood to him before he
had taken it.

She entered the loft cautiously, letting Nick buzz her up.  After Nick
silently pulled the door open for her, she stepped inside and turned
to face Nick.  She then watched him take a half dozen steps inside
before turning back to face her, which merely became the beginning of
a long and awkward silence.  She didn't know how to do this, how best
to bring the topic up, but eventually asked, "Did, ah, Janette and
LaCroix leave okay?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, they left.  They're going to try and find somewhere safe
for the time being."

"Have you heard anything more?"

"Before LaCroix left, he mentioned there was a slight upsurge of
deaths.  He seemed a bit grimmer than usual, but no, nothing new.
Nothing pointing to who is doing this or why, and nothing pointing at
who is most at risk.  Nothing," Nick said, his frustration creeping
in.

"H-how are you doing?" she asked, taking a tentative step toward Nick.
"It's been a week since you fed."

Nick tensed and shut his eyes.  "I'm getting hungry."

"Take my blood, Nick."

"Nat, I--"

"Nick, you need to have something, yes?  And the longer you wait...."

"The more I'll need, the more I'll want...."

"You could take some of my blood right now, without hurting me, yes?" 
She saw him ready to protest, and she added, "Don't think; just
answer.  My blood will help you, yes?  Nick?"

"Yes," he said, his eyes shifting to gold.  He then looked away.

Natalie gradually approached, lessening the distance between them
until she stood directly in front of Nick, just out of his reach.

Nick turned his attention to Natalie, his golden eyes meeting hers for
a split second before they shifted down to her neck.  He reached out
with one hand, his fingers brushing against her neck.  "I...can't."

"Nick?"

"Not on the neck.  Not on the wrist.  It would be too...visible if
someone was looking."

"You don't have to ask.  I don't mind.  Wherever you want to...."

Nick's eyes drifted downward, to where he had bitten her before.  And
then his eyes drifted up and his hands slid down to the buttons on
Natalie's shirt.  He paused, and after Natalie nodded, he started
undoing the buttons until most of her shirt was undone.  Carefully
pushing her shirt to one side, not allowing his fingers to touch her
skin, he then slowly pushed her left bra strap down off her shoulder. 
Another slight pause, and then he struck, biting into the flesh just
down from her arm and shoulder.

What seemed like a mere few seconds later, Natalie gasped as Nick
released her.  She could barely believe he had taken enough of her
blood.  And yet, she did feel dizzy and she zoned out for a moment,
coming back when she felt Nick's lips brush along her skin from where
he bit her and up to her neck.

Nick breathed in the scent of Natalie's hair, trying to focus on
something other than the scent and taste of her blood.  He held her
close for a moment, then suddenly picked her up and carried her over
to the couch, sitting down while still holding her against him.

They remained that way for a quarter of an hour, at which Nick
whispered, "I took more than I meant, than I wanted."

Natalie sat up slightly, taking her head off Nick's shoulder.  How
could he say he took more than he wanted?  "Nick, you took just as
much as you wanted, needed.  I feel fine.  Well, I feel a little
light-headed, but that's to be expected."

Not replying, Nick's hand shifted back to the fresh wound.  He
carefully touched the skin, then shifted his fingers down slowly just
to the top of Natalie's bra.  He closed his eyes, his fingers dropping
away, and then he reached his hand down and around to Natalie's back,
pulling her toward him.

A few minutes later, Nick found himself listening to Natalie's slow
and steady heart and her equally slow breathing.  She was asleep.  He
closed his eyes and let his fingers lightly slide along her back.  He
knew this would not be the last time he took her blood before he left.


Downward Spiral - (03/27)

Arriving at Nick's, Natalie pushed open the elevator door and slowly
approached the couch, where Nick was staring at the blank TV, remote
in hand.  He had clearly seen the statement shown that morning, which
divulged the existence of vampires.  Stopping, she prodded, "Nick?"

"I suppose we knew this would happen sooner or later, didn't we?"

Natalie, surprised that Nick seemed utterly stunned, almost as if he
had no idea this was coming, carefully asked, "You didn't know this
was close?  I mean, you knew something was up, but you didn't know--"

Nick shook his head.  "I had no idea.  It just seemed like we were
being killed.  Until this....  I mean there was the possibility of
something like this happening, but...."  Again Nick shook his head,
closing his eyes.

"Nothing, not even from LaCroix or Janette?"

"I'm completely cut off, Natalie.  I don't even know where they are
right now."

Slowly, Natalie stepped closer, and then cautiously sat down next to
Nick.  She didn't sit back until Nick pulled her backward by her
shoulders.  Now leaning against Nick, Natalie closed her eyes and
tried to calm herself for Nick's sake.

"This, it changes things," Nick began, wondering how Natalie would
take his decision.  "I won't be leaving yet.  It would be too
suspicious."

Natalie remained quiet.  Nick would have to stay longer, of course.
On the plus side, it meant she wouldn't be saying goodbye to him quite
yet.  On the other, it meant there was more time for Nick to be
discovered, or worse, killed.

"Nat, it'll probably be a few weeks longer.  If I have to, I'll leave
before that, but...."  Nick paused, unsure he wanted to be more
specific, given Natalie's silence.  "Natalie?"

"It's okay, Nick.  As long as you're here, you can take my blood
whenever you need to.  You already know that."

Nick pulled away slightly, forcing Natalie to sit up.  "No, it's not
okay.  I hate doing this too you.  You're far more than...."  He
stopped before finishing.  He couldn't say it.

"Nick, I know.  But I don't mind.  I can't just watch you starve
yourself.  And I won't.  Now, more than even before, you need to keep
attention away from you.  And that means you have to feed, and
discretely."  Natalie sat silently for a moment.  Nick, too, was
quiet, and she commented, "I see you turned it off."

Nick fiddled with the remote, but didn't touch any of the buttons.
"Yeah.  I got tired of the repetition.  That yes, vampires exist,
they're deemed dangerous and that they will be found and killed.  And
little else."

"They, ah, moved on after about an hour.  It's why I came."

First, Nick tensed.  Then, he hesitantly flipped the TV back on.

"...are killers?" a newscaster asked.

Then, a man with the subheading of Agent Carl Stephenson, IVEA, spoke,
"Yes.  If you looked at the background file of a vampire, or better
yet several files on different vampires, you'd notice a common thread
of wanted for murder and related notes dotted throughout their lives."

"By murder, you mean killing for blood?"

"Partly.  But they often kill without reason.  Sometimes they won't
even bother with a victim's blood.  Vampires are ruthless,
nonsensical, inhuman creatures that--"

Nick hit the mute button.  He had heard plenty out of this idiot, and
it wasn't much different than the informational statement that had
been on earlier.  But now they were trying to give examples.  "What
has come up?"

"Well, they are an international group.  Uh, I think IVEA actually
stands for International Vampire Elimination Agency.  Can't blame them
for not throwing that around too much.  They seem to have the full
cooperation of most--if not all--major world governments.  Their end
goal seems to be to kill all vampires.  No exceptions.  And they have
made it very clear that they have approval to do so.  I haven't seen
much mention of how they're working with present government agencies,
but there hasn't been any dispute that they're stepping out of
bounds."  Natalie paused, then continued, "They, ah, announced several
that have died...mortal name and birth info, current name, age, when
they were brought over, by whom....  It's stunning how much they seem
to know."

"How many?"

"A round dozen.  It's a bit fishy, isn't it?"

Nick almost answered, but a graphic popped up on screen that caught
his attention.   Nick turned the sound back on.

"...blood to survive.  They cannot eat mortal food, let alone live off
of it.  Second comes their susceptibility to sunlight and ultraviolet
light.  This can kill them, but they are also very resourceful.
Similar to their sensitivity to UV light sources, fire can also kill. 
Third comes the ever-mentioned ways of killing a vampire: stakes and
decapitation. Decapitation is best, as it is more permanent and
immediate, but a stake will do just as well a--"

Muting the TV again, Nick read off the remaining items on the list,
"Holy objects, garlic, mirrors."

"Yeah, they've done their research.  They know what will and will not
affect you, and Nick, they know specifics."

"How specific?"

"Precise reactions.  They know how much you'll react to what.  They've
even stated that they have several drugs that will take a vampire out
for hours, Nick.  Or make you sick, like the tainted blood you
mentioned...."

Nick sat, silent, for several minutes.  The only way they could have
gotten that information was through testing, and more likely than not
the test subjects had been very unwilling.  And then, after they were
tortured, they had been undoubtedly killed.

When Nick turned the volume back on, the agent said, "...any person
that exhibits such aversions, please contact us or local authorities. 
We will carefully and thoroughly investigate all those under
suspicion.  These are dangerous creatures of instinct that could kill
at any time-- with or without warning."

As another graphic covered the whole screen with contact info--several
phone numbers and an email address--Nick flipped the TV back off.
They didn't give a mailing address, no doubt not wanting their
headquarters announced so blatantly to his kind.

"They seem to be trying to...frighten, almost," Natalie commented.
"Frighten mortals into fearing your kind, and fearing vampires into
fleeing."

"Fleeing and revealing more of us to them."

"Or frighten your kind into staying put, making better targets...."

"Yes."

Natalie swallowed and slowly prodded, "Do you think perhaps you should
leave?"

"No.  No, I'm too...suspicious as it is.  If I stay, at least for now,
perhaps that will make some people think twice about what I might be,
given today, given this...."

Sitting, watching Nick, Natalie could see his fear and nervousness
building.  He wanted to leave, but then he would likely immediately be
targeted.  If he stayed, he would be endangering his life.  And they
both knew it.  Slowly, she reached forward with her hand, stopping
just before resting the back of her hand against his cheek.  She
waited until he closed his eyes, which she hoped was an indication the
action would be okay.

Allowing the touch, Nick let a faint hint of pleasure reach his lips,
almost allowing a smile to form.  He leaned back and wished this was
all there was, wishing that the last many weeks were just some
nightmare that he couldn't wake from....

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Ever since he had arrived at work that night, Nick felt eyes staring
at him.  He had expected it, given that his sun sensitivity was widely
known.  His arrest earlier that year and the discovery of cow's blood
in his refrigerator probably did nothing to alleviate the fears and
curiosities of his co-workers.  The blood had, at least, not been
human blood.  That was one thing the announcement had gotten wrong--
that all vampires survived exclusively off human blood--but perhaps it
was just part of this group's tactics to scare the public at large?

Schanke had been periodically staring straight at him, possibly
stunned at what he had seen and realising how much his partner sounded
like a vampire.  About to say something to Schanke, Nick's eyes darted
upward when his partner stood.

"How about we get out of here for a bit?" Schanke suggested.  "It's
not too late.  We could, ah, go talk to Mrs. Grier about her son?"

Fully aware they had already done that, Nick went to protest.

"Or," Schanke began in a hushed whisper, "Just drive a round?  It's a
bit tense in here for some reason."

After a few seconds, Nick nodded and stood, following the other out.

Schanke's attention drifted repeatedly between the passing cars and
streets and then Nick.  Finally, after nearly ten minutes, he blurted
out, "Are you a vampire?"

Nick didn't swerve in the slighted, having expected Schanke to ask him
that precise question.  But he still hadn't decided what he would say
in reply.

"I mean, the sun allergy or whatever, your thing with garlic, I've
never seen you really eat anything..." Schanke started off, and then
asked again, "So, are you?"

Nick glanced to the side, wondering what his partner was thinking.
"Why?"

"Just curious."

"And if I am?"

"Fine either way.  I mean, you're my partner and we've worked together
long enough that I know you're a good guy, whether you're a vampire or
not.  And I don't care what crock they're saying, that all vampires
are killers....  That is, if you're a vampire.  I mean, if you're not,
then this is all...."

Nick made a random right turn, not answering.  He didn't like Schanke
finding out what he was like this.

"You are, aren't you?" Schanke said, the words calm and almost a
statement.

"Yes."

They drove silently for several minutes before Schanke asked, "So
you're seriously going to stay and work?  Isn't that, well,
dangerous?"

"Yes, it's dangerous.  But if I leave...."

"You'll be branded a vampire then and there."

Nick nodded.  "I'll be here for a few weeks, maybe a month."  Nick
paused, then added, "Unless I'm discovered; then I'll have to leave
immediately.  Whatever the case I will be leaving, and probably
without much notice."

"Does, ah, does Natalie....  She's known what you are for a while,
hasn't she?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

Nick glanced to his partner before bracing himself for what he was
going to say.  "She knew what I was before she knew my name.  I was a
patient that didn't stay dead."

Schanke looked out the window, noticing Nick had driven toward the
Raven.  Passing the club, Schanke looked back, noticing it looked like
it had been closed.  He had noticed that before, actually, but hadn't
asked Nick about it.  Now knowing what Nick was, things sort of
started clicking.  "Ah--" Schanke started but cut off, a bit of shock
glistening in his eyes.

"The Raven was a safe haven for us."

"You've known this might be coming, didn't you?"

"Somewhat.  This...agency has been killing vampires for a couple of
months.  Hunting us, executing us.  They've been trying to weed us out
by destroying our blood supply, by using fear."

"A couple of months?" Schanke repeated.  Then, aware Janette had owned
the Raven, he asked, "So, uh, Janette, is she a, ah...." he trailed
off seeing Nick tense.  He didn't really have to ask, did he?  If Nick
was a vampire, then Janette definitely was.  "Is there anything I can
do?"

"No.  No, just...don't draw attention to what I am.  Don't try to
avert attention, either."

"So just do nothing?"

"Pretend you don't know, Schanke.  It's the safest thing to do."

Schanke's jaw opened to reply, but he realised he had nothing to say. 
Safest?  Safest for who?  For Nick, or for himself?

"We should head back," Nick abruptly said, turning the Caddy in the
general direction of the precinct.

"Why?" Schanke immediately asked.  When Nick didn't say anything,
Schanke realised what it was.  "Oh, the briefing thing...."  Schanke
paused, noticing his partner tensing.  "So, is their info on vampires
accurate?  On your abilities and--"

"Susceptibilities?"

Schanke swallowed.  He didn't like the word, nor the stiff tone Nick
said it with.  But neither did he blame his partner.  "Yeah.  I
suppose you could say that."

"Let's just say they've had plenty of time to prepare their statements
and have more than enough confidence to announce it."

Slowly, Schanke nodded.  This organization had, after all, gained and
then provided sufficient enough information and details to get the go
ahead to search out vampires with the intention of killing them.  And
he knew what that meant--with that research, these people knew what
they were dealing with, and the information given in the news was
likely quite accurate.


Downward Spiral - (04/27)

Natalie walked from the elevator over to where Nick sat on the couch,
his eyes closed.  It was almost like he didn't hear her come in.
Perhaps he was even asleep, but she doubted it.  Since the
announcement several days ago, Nick had visibly started to become
withdrawn and overly tired.

When Nick finally opened his eyes to look at Natalie, he languidly
commented, "I wasn't expecting to see you this morning."

"I thought I should come over."  Natalie then set down a tote bag she
had brought with her and, leaning over for a moment, she pulled out
several notebooks and various-sized files and put them on the coffee
table.  "I thought you should have these.  Either to store away
somewhere or...ah, to be destroyed.  I nearly did the latter myself,
but thought you might like to keep them...."  She watched Nick smile
back at her, although he only seemed half-interested.  Even with his
subdued mood, it was clear that he was pleased that she had decided to
let him choose what to do with her research.

"You're here for more."

Natalie stepped closer.  "Yes."

Nick averted his gaze sideways.  "I don't need your blood.  Not
today."

"Nick, you didn't take much last time.  I can see it in you; you're
tired, weaker than even before..." she trailed off, watching Nick drop
his head down.  "I know you don't like taking my blood like this.  But
you need to.  Your only other choice is to leave."

"Which would not be wise right now," Nick whispered.  He closed his
eyes again, knowing Natalie was right.  But then he commented, looking
at her, "It's only been four days, Nat."

"And how many more days are you going to be here, Nick?  Twenty, maybe
thirty?"

Again, Nick half-smiled.  "I haven't asked you this before, but is
there anything I can do to repay you?  And don't say nothing.  The
last several weeks have changed things, greatly."

Natalie knew she could ask for anything.  But there was very little
she really wanted.  That, and she suspected any monetary payment
could, possibly, link her to Nick if he was found in the future--
something she knew he wouldn't want.  "Just let me know before you
leave, if you can.  And maybe keep in touch, again, if you can."
Pausing a moment and then approaching and sitting on the couch next to
Nick, she then said, "And for you to take whatever blood you want or
need.  No more hesitation."

Nick closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they
glowed gold.  "You're right," he said.  "I do need blood."  Slowly,
Nick shifted and reached toward Natalie's jacket, pushing it out of
the way.  He then untucked Natalie's shirt and unbuttoned the bottom
few buttons.  He nearly glanced up at her, but remembering her
insistence on not hesitating instead bent over, biting her on the side
just below her waist.

Neither was paying much attention to anything else, not to the
elevator as it started up, nor to Schanke as he pushed the door open
and approached.

Natalie caught a glimpse of Schanke, her eyes widening seeing his
shocked expression.  Right at that moment, just as she was about to
say something, Nick bit harder, causing her eyes to close and her try
and focus entirely on not vocalising her pain.

Taking all he needed, Nick stopped and then spun upon realising there
was another heartbeat behind him.  Schanke.  He had expected his
partner to visit, but had figured there would be enough time, that he
would notice the other arriving....  Natalie was right; he had become
too weak.

"N-Nick...?" Schanke started, not sure what to say.  Nick didn't look
any different, but he could see the tinge of blood on his lips before
Nick wiped it away.  "What, ah, this, what...."

Nick went to pull away from Natalie.  She, however, did not allow him
to, wrapping her fingers around Nick's wrist before he could get very
far.  She then turned to Schanke and explained, "Nick's been taking my
blood."

"W-why?" Schanke stuttered, not sure if he should approach or step
back.

"It's been some time since I've been able to get blood safely.
Feeding from Natalie has been the safest option."

Seeing Schanke's continued disbelief, Natalie added, "I offered,
Schanke.  Nick didn't ask.  It's my choice."

Still unable to speak, Schanke first settled for taking a few gradual
steps closer to his partner and Natalie.  "Ah, I saw another news
thing this morning."

Nick tensed, pulling away from Natalie.  "More deaths?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, they put up things for another twenty, ah, six or so.
What, that makes thirty-eight now?"  He fidgeted in place.  "How much
of an impact is this having?  I mean, is that a lot, or...?"

"Far more than thirty-eight have died, Schanke.  Thirty-eight is just
what they've announced.  There were rumours of dozens of deaths long
before this was ever made public."

"So how many--"

"I don't know," Nick answered, a bit roughly.

"Nick hasn't had contact with others since before the announcement."
Natalie pursed her lips and told Schanke to sit down.  Then, she
asked, "What else was mentioned?  Was it on this morning?"

"Yeah, yeah, this morning, less than an hour ago," Schanke said,
inching closer and sitting in the recliner.

Natalie leaned forward and picked the remote up off the table, pointed
it at one of the shuttered windows, and hit a button, opening one of
the windows.

Schanke's attention drifted between the sunlight pouring in and Nick,
who had looked away from the bright light at first, and still seemed
uncomfortable after a couple of minutes.  "They were interviewing one
of the agents," Schanke said.  "And, well, some interesting questions
were asked, and some rather messed up answers, or...I don't know."  He
took in a deep breath and stated, "When asked about how vampires are
different, commenting that they look just like humans, the agent said
something like they might be able to blend in, but that there's always
an agenda and that it always involves blood and death."

"And?" Nick asked.

"Well, you are a homicide detective.  I mean, you, ah...."

"Schanke, there's little truth in it," Natalie explained.  "Nick's a
cop because he genuinely wants to help people."

"And others?  I mean, what are other vampires like?"

Natalie turned toward Nick, who was looking in Schanke's general
direction but not meeting his eyes.

"We're all different," he told Schanke.  "Some are...somewhat like
myself.  Some of us don't kill for blood or will only do so if
necessary.  Some are probably as ruthless--if not more so--than is
described.  Just like mortals range from saints to serial killers,
vampires are neither all evil nor all good.  We're not that different
from humans.  Killing and drinking blood is not all there is to us."

"So, ah, they've been giving bios on those they've...well, anyway, it
makes me a bit curious how old you are and where you're from and...."

Nick looked away.

Natalie saw this, but this time didn't answer.  Nick was the only one
that could decide whether to divulge this information or keep it to
himself.

Looking back to Schanke, Nick said, "I'm older than any of those
listed on the first...group."  He could see Schanke's disappointment
at the vague answer.  "I think it's better if you don't know, Schanke.
Same with where I'm originally from."

"So, with your kind being killed, have any...."

"Have I known any of them?" Nick asked.  Receiving a nod, he shook his
head.  "No, not that I'm aware.  No one close.  I haven't seen who
they've announced this morning, though."

Schanke slowly nodded.  He hadn't really expected Nick to know anyone,
but it just seemed like this was hitting his partner harder than it
should.  But then, he didn't really know or understand all of what was
happening.  "Do you think they're targeting just those that are...I
don't know, particularly evil?"

Nick immediately shook his head.  "No.  No, what they've said about
our backgrounds...it's unfortunately true, particularly for vampires
that have been around for more than a couple hundred years.  It's
difficult to not, at some point, end up on a 'wanted' list of some
kind.  And I have killed, Schanke.  I won't deny that.  But until
recently, realise that it was virtually impossible for any vampire not
to have to kill to survive.  I can't, off-hand, name a vampire who has
not killed for blood at least once.  Corner us, threaten us, starve
us...and we will kill before we let ourselves be killed."

"Do vampires kill...indiscriminately?"

"Not...usually," Nick quickly replied.  Sensing the answer would not
be enough, he explained, "We typically only kill for blood,
survival...or perhaps if our mortal culture deems such killing as
appropriate or we are sufficiently angered or taunted.  There are, of
course, exceptions, just as there are with mortals.  Those that step
the lines, those that endanger what we are...in the past they have
been killed."

"In the past?"

"Before the existence of vampires was made public.  It's more
complicated now."

Schanke nodded his head very slowly, thinking.  Food, survival,
inherent belief system and purposely being taunted...all were real
reasons and not the 'because they're vampires' junk that he had been
listening to on TV which only succeeded in muddling and confusing his
thoughts.  "And killing for blood, is that typical?"

"In this time, this century?  No.  It is too dangerous.  Most of us
survive off bottled blood, much of which is donated in some form or
another.  Bottled blood is also a far more reliable source."  Nick
stopped, looking away.  "Or, normally it is.  The first thing they did
was cripple our blood supply in their attempt to push us out."

Schanke relaxed, greatly.  Yes, vampires killed, but by Nick, they
mostly only did so when necessary, probably not even regularly.  They
were real people, too.  They had feelings and you could have rational
conversations with them.  Then why did he feel so nervous?  Why did
the descriptions on the news get to him so much?

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

After a week and three more major announcements, any new information
on vampires had now settled into the opening remarks for most news
broadcasts, with the occasional special on the larger full-time news
channels.

To think that interest was waning, however, would have been very
wrong.  As Agent Carl Stephenson's voice overlaid the death bios,
reading off names, ages and other information, most viewers listened
either in a state of shock, rejoice, applaud, fright or offence...or
just ignored it.  All were, however, stunned as the number of
announced deaths quickly reached both one hundred and then one hundred
and fifty.

Images of unsuspecting vampires flashed up, but a pattern was now
clearly emerging.  All were men and women--mostly men--looking
anywhere from twenty to fifty with given ages between one hundred and
five and four hundred and fifty.  No younger, inexperienced vampires
popped up in the lists.  Nor did any older vampires.

The public was becoming curious; so far all vampires mentioned had
been killed.  While descriptions had been made of vampires, no one had
had the chance to see a live vampire.  Some were asking for proof of
recent events to prove the truth in the ruthlessness of vampires.
Some wanted to know how they were being killed.  Others wanted to know
who was being suspected.  Whatever the demand, no answers were
forthcoming.

And it had taken little time for the IVEA to then highlight a list of
recent crimes--from the last twenty-five years--committed by the
various vampires that had been killed.  The shift in mood of most of
the mortals watching had then quickly shifted more toward approval and
indifference.

When asked where the IVEA was directing it's attention and energy, the
answer was vague, merely stating, "We are focusing on key
organisations and infrastructures within major and vital cities and
towns."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

The IVEA's latest statement drifted among Nick's thoughts nearly
nightly.  The last--the IVEA's current focus--especially preoccupied
him.

Worse, over the following several days various kinds of free food had
been provided by the IVEA, supposedly for their cooperation.  And,
although curiosity and slight confusion was felt throughout the
precinct, very few declined the offer of food.  Nick was one of the
few.

As several days passed, he started to wonder if this was some kind of
test.  The police force would certainly be considered a key
organisation or infrastructure in the city, and it would only make
sense for them to want to ensure that all officers were, indeed,
mortal.  And what better way to give a test than discretely and
without their knowledge?

Nick had considered taking the offer of food, but it all seemed so
very innocent....  It was mostly snacks--cookies, fudge, small
sandwiches and the like, nothing seemed specifically anti-vampire.  So
what was the point?  Was it just to see who took the food and who
didn't?

It didn't help that most who took the food the first couple of days,
Schanke included, for some reason didn't want anymore.  Most had
mentioned a lack of hunger.  Perhaps there was something in the food
to suppress hunger and prevent only a few taking all the food?  After
all, if they wanted to give everybody the chance....

Eventually, mid-shift one night, Nick told Schanke to get him a few
cookies.  Schanke had obliged, he himself going for a different and
far more appealing source of free food--donuts brought in by another
detective.

When Schanke brought him the cookies--two chocolate chip, one peanut
butter and one oatmeal--Nick felt a slight lulling in the precinct.
He knew some of the others had mild suspicions of what he was,
something he had done his best to ignore so that it would hopefully
make him appear as unsuspecting of the thoughts as possible.  Having
the food put in front of him, Nick fought back his instinctual
aversion.

The first bite was the worst, the odd texture and taste being one of
the most repulsive things he had ever tasted.  The second and
thereafter, however, were not as bad.

When he finished two whole cookies and only had two left, Nick
realised it was a result of his hunger.  He felt it, lurking just
below the surface.  He had had so little blood over recent weeks--just
enough to feel strong enough to work and, if needed, flee--that his
body almost didn't care that mortal food was being forced into it.
Almost.  As he finished the third cookie, Nick could, however, feel
his nausea beginning to rise and knew the cookies would not be staying
down.  But so far, so good.

Nick then ate the fourth and last cookie.  He had decided he had done
quite well when the nausea suddenly turned from slight to something
more closely resembling pain.  Nick sat back, leaning his head
backward and closing his eyes.  He felt far worse than he should have.
Yes, he now knew, this was some kind of test.

Minutes later, Nick startled as Cohen told them they were being
dispatched to a crime scene.  Nick didn't care where they were going;
other than knowing they had a case, he didn't hear a word Cohen said,
actually.  All he wanted was out of that room.

Without a word, Nick went to the Caddy and started the ignition.  As
soon as Schanke had shut the passenger side door, he pulled
arbitrarily out of the precinct parking lot.  He hadn't actually heard
the address, nor did he care what it was just that moment.  A few
blocks away, he made a wrong turn, drawing Schanke's attention.

When Schanke poked at his arm, pointing to the left, Nick sent a
golden glare at his partner.  He had no intention of changing
direction, not yet.

Never having seen Nick's eyes like this before, Schanke flinched
slightly.  But the change was plenty enough for him to ask, "Nick,
what's wrong?"  Getting no answer, he more simply and cautiously
prodded, "Are you okay?"

"No," Nick forced.  A few blocks later at a pizza place, Nick pulled
into the parking lot and darted inside.  While not his first choice,
his nausea had increased to something more.  Even the tinge of garlic
in the air barely bothered him as he entered the building.

Schanke quickly followed, stopping only when Nick vanished into the
restroom.  He hesitated before following, getting the distinct
impression that something was very wrong but unsure if he should say
anything or not.  For several minutes, Schanke was torn between
staying and waiting outside as, from the sound of it, Nick lost both
the cookies and a fair bit of blood.

Once Nick seemed better, calmer, Schanke asked, "Nick, you okay?"  His
partner didn't answer, instead moving from the stall to the sinks, not
looking at him.  Schanke took a step closer, his eyes catching on the
drops of blood--Nick's blood--clinging to the other's lips.  It was
just a moment, and then Nick had wiped the thick scarlet drops away.
But the other still hadn't looked at him and had made no note of his
presence.  "Nick?"  Then, next thing he knew he was being pushed up
against the wall, his partner's golden eyes staring hungrily at him.

Nick snarled at Schanke, fangs fully visible, and his head turning
slightly sideways as he tried to hold back.  He shut his eyes at the
sudden hunger he now felt, even as his nausea continued.

"Those things were drugged, weren't they?" Schanke asked, his initial
fear fading somewhat.  "Nick, what do--"

"I'm so very, very hungry..." Nick slowly said, half in answer and
half in statement.

"You need blood," Schanke whispered, relaxing as Nick's hold loosened,
the other's hands dropping away.

"Yes..." Nick said in a low his, fangs still visible.

Aware that Nick could not go to the crime scene like this, Schanke
asked, his voice hinting at being both calm and nervous, "Tell me how
I can help you, Nick."

Nick shook his head.  He didn't want to do this, but at the same time
he forced himself to try and focus, knowing he had to.

"Come on, Nick.  What do you need me to do?"

Reopening his eyes, Nick commanded, "Take off your jacket."

Schanke felt a hint of weak persuasion with the words.  "And then
what?" he asked, doing as Nick said and pulling his arms out of his
jacket.

"Roll up your sleeve."

Schanke did so, quickly rolling up his left sleeve.  As soon as that
was done, Nick then shifted the few feet to arrive at Schanke's side,
practically vanishing for a second.  A bit surprised at the quick
action, Schanke abruptly felt his shoulder protest when Nick took his
arm.  Then he felt sharp pricks of pain as Nick bit him just above his
wrist.

Nick pulled his partner's blood for over a minute, taking the blood as
slow as he could considering his great want for it.

Schanke instinctively pulled away as soon as Nick released his arm.
He closed his eyes, the bite wound almost hurting more now than while
Nick was drinking his blood.  So, this was what it felt like to be bit
by a vampire.  And here he was, still very alive.  Looking to his
partner, Schanke watched as Nick stood with his eyes closed, clearly
trying to regain his focus and strength.

Schanke went to the sink and cleaned his arm off, a bit surprised that
the wounds weren't bleeding much at all.  Nick slid off while he was
unrolling his shirtsleeve and rebuttoning the cuff.  Slipping his
jacket back on, Schanke headed after Nick, having to grab hold of the
doorframe turning the corner out of the restroom as a wave of
dizziness hit him.

Arriving back at the Caddy, Schanke got in and eyed his partner.  Nick
looked a bit paler than his usual of late, and it showed in his
features.  "Are you going to be okay?  I mean, with the crime scene,
considering...."

"I'll have to be, won't I?" Nick said, his voice slightly more normal
than before, but still audibly strained.  Realising he didn't come off
reassuring by Schanke's nervous glance over at him, he added, "I'll be
fine."

Several minutes after Nick had started the Caddy and they were headed
to the scene, Schanke cautiously prodded, curious, "Uh, should I ask
what, ah, my blood tasted like?"

"Uniquely...Schanke," Nick replied, his tone light.  Then, focusing on
the faint remnants of thoughts that hadn't been crushed by his nausea,
Nick added, quietly, "And like that of a very loyal friend."

Schanke tensed at the last, somewhat surprised by the comment.  But
loyal, yeah, that fit he supposed.  But where had Nick picked that up
from, and how?


Downward Spiral - (05/27)

For the last several weeks, Nick often spent the short time he had
after work and before the dawn driving.  And he knew now that it was
time to leave.

True, no one seemed to have noticed his bad reaction to the cookies.
The free food had gone a few days after that, at which a few of the
other detectives mentioned having to be interviewed and then tested
with distaste.  He, apparently, wasn't under suspicion.  And that was
what he had wanted and needed.

He had decided he would stay until the end of the week, and then he
would go, hopefully without much notice.  He just had to tell Natalie,
discretely hand in his resignation to Cohen, and vanish.

Since even before the announcement, he had slowly cleared out his home
of his things, knowing he would be leaving before too long.  All that
was left was impersonal belongings...things he didn't care whether he
kept or not, mostly furniture and a few paintings he didn't
particularly want.  And the piano.  He hadn't yet had the chance to
get it moved out, but then the instrument had turned out to be a
pleasant way to spend the day, as he often found he couldn't sleep.

Arriving home just as the sun rose, Nick noticed Natalie's car
outside.  How long had she been waiting for him?  The previous night,
after he had taken more of her blood, he had told her to not visit for
a few days at the least.  But then, Natalie had been concerned about
him; had he really expected that she would do as asked?

Nick quickly pulled the Caddy into the garage and then headed upstairs
via the elevator.  In a way, he was glad Natalie had come.  She
wouldn't have to wait to know his decision, and he would have more
time to spend with her.

The instant he pulled the elevator door to the side, however, Nick
froze.  The scent of blood filled his senses.  It didn't take more
than a quick glance to see that Natalie was lying on the ground,
completely still.

"Natalie..." Nick whispered as he flew to her.  Coming to a stop, he
immediately kneeled next to her.  Natalie's heart was still as she lay
in her own blood, her left hand having slid back, smearing the blood
on the floor, her throat deeply slit.  She was dead.

Nick's eyes drifted to the blood on the floor.  Despite the freshness,
he wasn't the slightest bit hungry and had no desire for any of it.
But he had to know something about what had happened, anything, and so
he reached his hand down, letting his fingers touch the moist liquid.

Slowly, Nick brought his fingers toward his lips, but hesitated.  Even
though he had tasted Natalie's blood many times, he feared this time. 
He closed his eyes and licked the blood off, focusing as much as he
could.

He felt her fear as she realised she was not alone.  She had
struggled.  Then she had been killed, her throat slashed.  Then all he
tasted was the still tinge of death.

Nick opened his eyes.  Natalie's death had at least been relatively
quick.  But it was so very senseless.  What had Natalie done to
deserve this?  But he knew--she had befriended him.

Standing, Nick noticed where Natalie had tried to stop her attacker--
likely a mortal--from reaching her.  But the blood....  The blood had
been drained after she was killed.  But...why?

And then Nick sensed it; there was a heartbeat nearby.  In fact, he
had sensed it even when he came in, but finding Natalie dead had taken
his full attention.  He had then forgotten about the sound, thinking
at first it had been Natalie, or perhaps even his imagination.

Nick turned toward the heartbeat, catching a glimpse of a man in the
shadows.  They had planned this.  Natalie wasn't even the target--he
was.  And it was after dawn, the sun getting warmer by the minute.

A bullet ripped into his shoulder.  He nearly darted toward the man,
but the sharp pain told him this was no ordinary bullet.  It hadn't
passed through him, for one, and by the faint burning sensation he
suspected it was largely wood.  Add the tingling numbness he felt
coming from the region, and he knew it was likely somehow drugged.

Nick flew out of the way as another bullet shot toward him.  And then,
closing his eyes for a second, he knew he had only one option, one way
out.

Nick flew straight up and through the unshuttered--but unopened--
skylight and into the bright dawn light, feeling another bullet hit
him in the side.  Instinctively he went for cover, forcing himself to
fly as far as he could before reaching the faint safety shade offered.

And then he only stayed a moment before starting off again as he heard
the sound of approaching sirens.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Schanke had heard the dispatch on his way home, "...units to 101
Gateway Lane."

Immediately, he had turned his car toward Nick's, and a short few
minutes later he had pulled up among several squad cars.  He headed
inside, not asking what happened.  He expected it would be Nick,
probably killed, nothing but a faint reminder of him left.  But,
instead, he was confronted with Natalie, lying in a pool of blood, as
the subject of the scene.  And Nick was nowhere to be found.

To make matters worse, Nick was the initial and sole suspect.  And by
the flits of conversation he heard, Nick had also been pegged as a
vampire--by the lone bottle of human blood in his refrigerator.

In a mild state of shock, Schanke's mind screamed at him that this was
all wrong.  He barely learned anything more before Cohen stepped up to
him, blocking his path toward Natalie.

"Detective, I think it would be best if you return to the precinct."

"No.  Nick did not do this!" Schanke stated, point-blank, before Cohen
could tell him otherwise.  "There is no way in--"

"Detective, I'm ordering you off this scene.  You're too close to
this."

"So, what, some agent from that crack-pot-run group is going to
question me about Nick?"

"I suggest that you refrain from using the crack-pot comment,
Schanke."

"Wait, you mean...."

"Yes.  They are sending an agent to speak with you.  They are very
interested in what you might be able to tell them."

"About Nick."

"Yes.  And about Dr. Lambert."

The mention made Schanke turn toward where Natalie lay, her body now
under a sheet.  "They don't think....  Captain--"

"No, they do not believe she was a vampire.  However, they do suspect
she was aiding Knight with keeping what he was secret, likely covering
up for him."

Schanke swallowed at that, not giving a reply.

"Swanson!" Cohen called, catching the attention of a passing officer. 
"Tell Pierce you're taking Schanke and his car back to the precinct."

Swanson nodded and went to find his partner.

"Captain--"

"A good friend of yours has been murdered and your partner is the most
likely suspect.  You are going back to the precinct, and then you're
going home and staying there for the next several days.  Detective,
you will not be working anywhere near this case."

"I know Nick, and I know he couldn't have done this.  I don't care
what they say he is or what he's done in the past, he--"

"Schanke, two IVEA agents are taking this case.  They will consider
any and all information obtained carefully."

"Yeah, I bet they will.  And twist it--"

Cohen glared at her Detective.

"Why?" Schanke then demanded, citing, "This isn't an international
crime."

"It is a given that any vampires discovered have no claim of
citizenship or immunity in this or most other countries."

"But shouldn't it be a cooperation?  Isn't that how it's supposed to
work if we suspect someone of being a vampire or we find evidence of a
vampire?"

"Yes, but this is murder, Schanke.  And the suspected vampire is a
cop.  All investigative powers go to the IVEA."

Schanke set his jaw.  He hated that part of this.  It was like
stripping someone, of a vital part of ones identity.  There surely had
to be vampires that had lived their entire lives in their birth
country.  But he already knew that even that didn't count.  There was
nothing he could do.

When Swanson returned, Cohen told Schanke, "Give Swanson your keys.
He'll take you back to the precinct."  Getting a glare from Schanke,
Cohen told him, "My hands are tied on this.  I'm only here to
supervise the scene until the agents arrive.  After that, I'll be just
as uninvolved as you."

Seeing Cohen's dislike of this as much as he, Schanke felt a bit
better.  But he still hesitated in handing over his keys.  He had no
wish to leave.  What would they find to incriminate his partner?  And
how much had been planted?  He knew for a fact that Nick hadn't had
any bottled blood since before the announcement was made that vampires
even existed.  If that had been planted, what else had?  How much more
of the crime scene had been contrived?

He gave his keys to Swanson, exhaling.  At least Cohen was right about
one thing--he had no wish to drive anywhere right now.  As soon as he
left here, he suspected his thoughts would only run wild.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

[Friday, May 12th, 1995]

Schanke stared blankly at a TV in one of the conference rooms.
Several other officers and detectives were also in the room, watching,
stunned, at a special news report.

"Dr. Natalie Lambert, County Coroner, was found dead this morning in
Toronto at the home of Toronto Homicide Detective Nicholas Knight.
While little information has been released, an IVEA agent, when asked
about the agency's involvement in this case, stated that Knight is the
suspected killer and was also recently flagged as a vampire in their
files, despite careful screens of all city employees.

"Citizens have already raised questions regarding the IVEA's
competency and the possibility of giving them even more leeway in such
matters.  They cite that Knight would have been prevented from killing
if his passing of the screening did not instantly add what the IVEA
are referring to as 'red-tape'.  Citizens are also questioning the
resourcefulness of vampires, as Knight apparently had a supply of
human blood despite the IVEA's careful observation and destruction of
such supplies.  The IVEA have stated that Knight might be a
particularly dangerous vampire and that there may be more like him
still passing for human.

"When asked what flagged Knight as a vampire, IVEA agent Marissa Burns
stated it was the identical characteristics of Toronto Detective
Nicholas Knight to a Civil War doctor of the same name discovered
while investigating another vampire.  When asked if they had more
information on Knight, Agent Burns declined to answer, stating that
they have only begun an investigation on Knight's history and that
they know little about him at the moment other than his present name.

"More information will be released as we receive it.  We will now
return to--"

Schanke turned and walked out, hoping to avoid questions from the
other officers.  After all, he had been Nick's partner.  But, for
whatever reason--perhaps because of Natalie's death--no one said
anything to him.  Not to ask if he had known what Nick was, if he
thought Nick did it, or a mention of how horrible Natalie's death had
been.  Nothing.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Myra nonchalantly turned a corner out of the hall and into the living
room, her heart jumping when she came face to face with Nick.  She
stepped back, stopping only when he reached out, a hand taking her
upper arm, the grip very light.  Before she could speak, she watched
Nick double over in pain, and then walk right by her and into the
kitchen.

She followed him, calling his name, but he didn't answer.  Earlier,
her husband had called, mentioning what had happened to Natalie, that
Nick had vanished, and that he had to go back to the precinct.
Remembering his insistence that Nick couldn't have done this, no
matter what he was, Myra felt a little more confident as she
approached Nick.

When he vomited blood into the sink, Myra's attention switched to his
state.  Scanning him, she could see burns on his face, neck and hands,
and also what looked like two bullet wounds, one to the shoulder and
another in his side, both of which looked like they were still
bleeding.

After several minutes passed and Nick seemed to be doing better--at
the very least not vomiting blood anymore, the blood now all rinsed
down the drain--she took a step closer, again calling his name.

Nick didn't turn toward Myra.  The second bullet didn't seem to have
the same effect as the first...which he was now certain had been
drugged somehow.  Between that, the burns, and the wounds, he was
having trouble focusing.  It had taken over an hour to get to
Schanke's to begin with.  And now that he was there and felt
relatively safe, he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on
anything.

"Nick, are you okay?  Schanke called, told me about...."

Nick closed his eyes.  Was it news already?  What were they saying?
He felt another wave of pain, and he no longer cared.  He grabbed for
the counter and pulled out a drawer, only to find it filled with
dishcloths and kitchen towels.  What had he been looking for?

"Is there something I can do?"

Nick slowly turned to face Myra, trying to think.  "I need...."  He
closed his eyes as yet more pain and now a very definitive weakness
washed through him.  "I was shot with...some type of bullet, or....
Something on it or in it...I need something to remove them.  Something
to grip and pull them out...anything that might--"

Myra watched Nick tightly grip the counter and again cough up more
blood.  She hated to leave him like this, but she knew there was a
pair of large tweezers in the bathroom that might help.  She rushed to
retrieve them, freezing for a moment as she heard a strange thud come
from the kitchen.

Hurrying back, Myra again froze when she saw Nick on the ground, a bit
of blood on both the floor and the corner of the drawer Nick had
pulled out.  She knelt down and gently turned his head away from the
linoleum to reveal a deep and jagged gash among the burns.

Vampires were supposed to heal quickly, she thought, but Nick appeared
to be doing nothing of the sort.  Then she remembered the tweezers
still in her hand and that Nick had wanted the bullets out.

For a good minute, Myra didn't move.  She wanted to help, but had
never done anything quite like this.  She took in a deep breath.
Despite some fear at what would happen when Nick woke, as after all if
he were a vampire he would likely want blood, she did what she could
to remove the bullets.

She removed his jacket with difficulty, and then unbuttoned his shirt
to get at the wounds.  She then braced herself and removed the
bullets, neither of which had embedded very deeply.  The one in his
shoulder had come out in a single piece, although barely, a deep
fissure running down one side.  The second came out in one piece,
slightly cracked where the wood met the metal tip, but not nearly in
pieces like the first.  As she sat the bullets on a plate, a clear
liquid slowly oozed out of the first after a couple of minutes.

Her hands had trembled the entire time, with the only thought allowing
her to continue being knowing that she could likely do no harm to him.
And she also wanted to know what had happened and couldn't just stand
by and watch someone suffer.

Now, even as her hands still shook, Myra's fingers itched to call her
husband, but if Nick were the primary suspect in killing Natalie...it
would do nothing to help either Nick, herself, or her husband.  At the
very least, Nick's injuries looked less severe, even if he was still
unconscious.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Schanke sat uncomfortably in the interview room across from an IVEA
agent.

The agent, Mark Evans, exhaled.  "Detective, do you understand what is
happening?  That your partner is a confirmed vampire and--"

"He did not kill Natalie."

"Even knowing that he's not human?  That it is in his nature to kill,
his very instinct?"

"It's not like him.  That scene....  Nick never could have done that."

"And why do you say that?  Perhaps because of irrational personal
reasons...?" Evans suggested.

Schanke fidgeted.  He didn't want to say anything about Nick, but he
didn't like how they were forcing Nick into the mould they had created
for all vampires, a mould that wasn't a catchall.  "I've worked with
Nick plenty long enough to know him.  And I don't care if Nick's a
vampire or not.  I don't see why it should matter.  He's just as human
as I am."

"But that's it--he's not human.  Doesn't the knowledge that he's
probably thought of you as a meal more than once make you doubt your
loyalty to him?"

Schanke set his jaw.  "No."

"What do you know about him, Detective Schanke?" Evans asked.  He
pulled out a file folder and read off, "Nicholas B. Knight, date of
birth January 1, 1957.  And how much of that do you think is true?
Obviously, the birth year is false.  But how far off is it?  You don't
know, do you?"  Agent Evans carefully studied the Detective's
reaction, quickly realising that the other clearly had no idea.  Evans
smirked.  "You don't know anything more about him than is on the news,
do you?  He hasn't been very trusting with you.  And I thought he was
your friend?"

Feeling nervous, Schanke shifted in his chair, inwardly wincing,
knowing the agent would read into his action.

"We've placed him as a Doctor during the American Civil War.  It might
sound like a respectable, caring occupation, but did you know that war
attracts vampires?  It's all the bloodshed, the easy prey, the
death....  To them, what does it matter if the dying pass from life a
little quicker?"

Schanke swallowed at the inference, not sure what to think.

"Did you know your partner's description also comes up in an unsolved
1974 Los Angeles murder investigation?"  Agent Evans took out a file
folder and tossed it in front of Schanke.  "Take a look."

Gingerly, Schanke opened the file.  The sketch of the suspect looked
exactly like Nick.  Worse, all three murders had female victims with
punctures to the throat.  Autopsy revealed that the victims had all
died of blood loss despite very little blood found near or on the
victims.  A vampire had killed the women.  Nick was a vampire.  And
Nick had been linked to all three victims.  Hiding his shock and fear
as well as he could, Schanke closed the file and pushed it across the
table toward Evans.  He had seen enough.

"A rather interesting read, wasn't it?"

Schanke didn't answer.  And then, between the comments, the unsolved
nature of the case, and that it seemed that these agents had missed
what Nick was the first time around, Schanke thought aloud, "He's
gone, isn't he?"

Now it was Evans' turn to remain silent, but observing.

"You thought you could kill him, but instead you lost him."

Ignoring the change in subject to the present situation, Evans stated,
"You're in denial."

"Nick couldn't have done that," Schanke nearly yelled, giving a curt
nod to the file.

"Really?  Then you would describe him as a model detective?"  Evans
pulled out another file, opened it, and smiled as he glanced at
Knight's file.  "Let's see...he's described as a hotshot by other
officers, does not work well with others, disregard for rules, etc,
etc.  It's amazing he hasn't been suspended for some of this...."

"And maybe you should look at more his file."

"What, his so-called commendations for bravery?  As a vampire, he
wasn't risking anything.  He likely used what he was to get those."

Schanke stiffened.  He hated that Evans was just twisting everything
against Nick.  "What does any of this have to do with now?"

"You tell me.  How close would you say Knight and Dr. Lambert were?"

"They were good friends."

"Do you think she knew what he was?"

Schanke nearly said no, but realised the question was trying to set
him up to get information.  "If anyone knew, it would have been
Natalie.  If she actually knew or not, I don't know."

"Take a look at those 1974 victims, Detective.  Look carefully at the
autopsy results."

Schanke cautiously opened the folder again, scanning the autopsy
results more thoroughly.  He froze.  All three victims had been fed
off of, repeatedly.  They had all been bitten a total of either four
or five times.  He knew Nick had been feeding from Natalie....

"You might find it interesting to know Dr. Lambert has over half a
dozen bite marks.  He'd been feeding from her, weakening her, possibly
planning to kill her."

"Nick had no reason to kill her."

"Perhaps she found something out about him that was unacceptable?
Perhaps she was going to turn him in?  He couldn't allow that, could
he?"

Schanke stood up.  He had had enough of this so-called 'interview'.
As far as he was concerned, this agent was merely trying to get his
opinion of Nick to change.  "Can I leave, or are you going to actually
start asking useful questions, like who had access to Nick's home or
maybe when I last saw either of them?"

Evans leaned back, closing Knight's file.  "You're free to go."

Schanke left before the agent changed his mind, bumping into another
agent, that redheaded Marissa Burns, as he left the room.

Marissa entered and asked her partner, "Anything useful?"

"He's still in shock.  I don't think he had any idea what Knight was
before tonight.  He's in denial, can't believe his partner's a
vampire.  I gave him a few things to think about, though."

"Are we going to try again?"

"No.  No, I don't think he'll help us--no matter what we throw at him.
Besides, Knight's probably long gone or will be by sunset.  He won't
stay here long.  We'll have to catch up to him another way."


Downward Spiral - (06/27)

Nick woke pain free, the linoleum behind his bare lower back sending
an odd chill through him.  He slowly sat up and then stood, buttoning
his shirt after noticing the bullets he'd been shot with had been
removed.  He was still nauseous, and his hunger and light-headedness
vied for attention.

Myra came around the corner, startled slightly upon finding Nick
standing.  Only a faint pinkish tinge of his skin remained of his
burns, his other injuries appearing completely gone.  "I was starting
to worry; you've been out for hours.  Do you, ah, feel any better?"

Nick simply nodded.  While he did feel better than he did, he felt
nowhere near well.  Hearing a snippet of the morning news, Nick slowly
walked around Myra and toward the television.  He stopped in front of
it.

Not only were his and Natalie's names and faces flashing on screen
from time to time, but there was also yet another list of vampires
found and killed.  He watched the faces and names flash by in the
bottom right corner of the screen.  A couple of the faces almost
seemed familiar, or was it simply the haunted, frightened expression
most held?  Only his picture seemed lacking of the fearful hints.  But
even his photo--which was his badge photo--held an odd haunted tinge
to it.  Did mortals see it?  Or was he just seeing things?

Nick jumped as Myra touched his arm.  He immediately closed his eyes,
feeling his hunger jump, remaining even as the hand retreated.

"I can turn it off, if you'd like?"

"No," Nick immediately answered.  "No, it's fine.  I'd like to know
what's happening."

"It's a mess.  Or, it was.  You're...at the top of their list.  Well,
actually you're the only one officially wanted...."

Nick sat down on the couch, closing his eyes as he leaned back.  But
he reopened his eyes, feeling himself begin to nod off with just
listening to the news.

"They don't know much about you."  Myra paused, and then asked, "Did
Natalie know?"

Nick stiffened at the question, but answered, "Yes, she knew what I
was."

"And my husband?  Did you tell him?" Myra asked, her nervousness
showing in her voice.

Nick turned to her, meeting her gaze.  She didn't hold any mallace
toward him, just curiosity and fear.  He would have suspected she
would have noticed the wounds on Schanke's arm, that Schanke might
have even told her, but she either hadn't or wasn't making the
connection.  Looking away, he stated, "I didn't deny what I was when
he asked; he's known since just after the existence of my kind were
made public."

When Myra seemed to accept his answer, Nick turned his attention back
to the news.  Focusing on what was being said about him, Nick noticed
a change had been made.  The bios for the vampires killed still had
the deep blue background they had always had.  His, however, was
maroon.  Whether or not the IVEA wanted it, they would have to reveal
the identities of more suspected vampires soon.  The public would
latch on to it and demand it, considering the number of those killed. 
His eyes darted along his mini-file the next time it popped up.
Current name, and age of 175+ was all that was listed.  Despite his
tiredness, Nick smiled.

"What?" Myra asked, noticing an oddly pleased expression on Nick's
face considering a good friend of his had just died and he was the
suspect in her murder.

"I don't fit their mould.  They'll be hesitant to reveal anything
about me, especially my age."  In explanation, he added, "I'm older
than any of those they have so far...revealed."

After a few minutes, a bit nervous, Myra said, "I...haven't told
anyone you're here."

"And I'm grateful of that."

Myra slowly nodded.  And then, not quite meeting Nick's eyes, she
asked, "I don't want to insult you by asking you this, but did you
kill Natalie?"

"No."  Nick looked down, shutting his eyes tight against his anger.

"I knew you were good friends."  Myra approached, sitting next to
Nick.  "Don called a few minutes before you woke.  He said he'd be
home soon."

Nick slowly nodded.  Schanke was whom he wanted to talk to, wanted to
see.  He felt like he needed a few days to recover.  He was so very
tired....  But he would only stay with permission.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Leaving the precinct after calling Myra, Schanke headed home only to
turn around less than a minute from home. He started drumming his
fingers on the steering wheel.  He was tired, but his mind wouldn't
let him rest.  

Could Agent Evans have a point?  How much information on Nick did they
have?  The information on the Los Angeles cases seemed credible, but
Nick just...couldn't.  He had said that vampires didn't often feed
from mortals.  No, Nick had said they didn't often kill for blood,
that it wasn't typical in this time.  Nick hadn't said anything about
himself on that if he, personally, killed for blood from time to time.

And 1974?  That was a mere twenty-one years ago.  And Natalie....
He'd think for someone to survive being fed from that many times the
vampire would have to have some experience keeping the human alive.
And that meant that Nick had to have done this before.

It was hard knowing that much of what Evans said could very well be
right.  He had seen Nick's hunger before he had taken his blood.  And,
as Evans had pointed out, Nick really didn't have a problem bending
the rules when he felt like it.

But Nick actually killing someone?  Sure, Nick had the ability to
kill.  But didn't everyone have that?  And as a cop, you had to think
that way.  You had to think about what the suspect might do next,
sometimes even did have to kill or risk killing someone to stop them. 
But Nick wasn't trigger-happy.  He'd seen cops like that.  Nick used
his weapon less than he did, less than most cops.

But then, did Nick even need his gun?  Vampires didn't need weapons to
kill.  He'd felt the strength Nick had, expecting he could break bones
with little more than a quick and simple movement.  Nick held great
control over what he was; he had to, to be a cop.

Schanke swallowed, realising he'd been overlooking something.  Nick
did have great control.  How much of the real Nick had he seen?  How
much had Nick allowed him to see?

Truthfully, he didn't know Nick.  He had possibly learned more about
Nick's past from Agent Evans than he had from the source.  And
Natalie....  Had Natalie possibly paid for trusting Nick too easily?
Or was he just thinking too much?

Stifling a yawn, Schanke directed his car back toward home.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

A instant after her husband arrived home, Myra saw him stop cold upon
seeing Nick on the couch, asleep.

"Myra, what--"

"He got here this morning, an hour or two after dawn."

"Has he done anything to you?" Schanke asked, his thoughts from
earlier inciting his worry.

"No."  Figuring her husband would want to know how Nick was, she
explained, "He was burned when he arrived.  He was weak, and he'd been
shot."

The last statement pushed Schanke's concern more on Nick.  "Shot?"

"Twice.  And he was drugged, I think.  He needs to rest.  Let him
sleep while I pick Jenny up from school?"

Schanke tensed.  Jenny.  He had spent so much time at the precinct,
and then delayed coming home.  And Nick was here, and....  Schanke
shook his head and walked over to where Nick slept, even as Myra
tugged on his arm, trying to keep him away.  But he had to know, from
Nick, what was true and what wasn't.  Nick would tell him, give him an
answer, or he would tell Nick to get out right then and there.

Stopping next to Nick, Schanke reached down to his partner, taking his
arm, and then went to pull Nick up into a sitting position.

Nick instinctively pulled away as he woke from the touch.  He slipped
out of the grip with difficulty, landing on the floor, which jarred
him the rest of the way awake.  "Schanke?"

Myra stepped closer, at which Schanke said, "Go pick up Jenny.  I want
to talk to Nick alone."

From where Myra stood Nick was the one at a disadvantage, and she
turned her focus on him.  When Nick gave her a nod and turned back to
her husband, Myra asked, "What should I tell her?"

"Nothing for the moment.  Just...I'll think of something, okay?  Nick
can help."  Schanke then shot a glare at Nick, waiting for Myra to
leave.

Once Myra had left and they were alone, Nick stated, "I didn't kill
her, Schanke."

"I want to know a couple things, Nick.  Where were you in 1974?"

Nick tensed.  If Schanke was asking, he either knew something or had
been told something.  "Los Angeles.  Why?"

Schanke felt sick.  "I want the truth on this, Nick.  Did you kill
anyone while there?"

"No," Nick whispered.

"No one?"

"No one, Schanke."

"But you were in Los Angeles?"

"Yes."

Schanke paused.  Either Nick was lying or the Agents were messing with
him.  "Have you ever fed from someone like you have from Natalie?"

Nick involuntarily shrunk back.  "Not...recently, and not to such a
degree, but yes."

"What about in 1974?"

"Schanke, I...."

"Come on, Nick.  Give me something about you and about this that I
don't know."

Nick closed his eyes.  He hadn't planned on telling Schanke more about
him, hadn't wanted to get Schanke even this involved.  He had planned
on leaving, merely mentioning to Schanke that he would be gone.  "In
the last hundred years, I've rarely killed.  I haven't even drunk
human blood regularly in that time.  Taking Natalie's blood--it was
very hard for me to do that to her.  I never even let myself take
enough, especially the last couple of weeks."

"The stuff in those cookies...that's why it affected you so much, why
you were so hungry, why...."

"Schanke?  Would you give me a hand up?"

Schanke stood in place, frozen for several seconds, just staring.
Nick needed help up?  Was Nick really that weak, or did he just want
to conserve energy?  Or perhaps simply want to show a little trust?
Whatever the case, Schanke reached a hand out to Nick, whose cold grip
seemed icier than usual, and he pulled Nick to his feet.  He then
watched Nick sit back down on the couch, his unsteadiness apparent for
the few seconds he had been standing.  "What happened this morning?  I
mean, you had to know.  You were there.  Your fingerprints...."

Nick nodded, and then explained what had happened from when he had
entered and smelt Natalie's blood, to realising another was there and
being shot at, and then him fleeing and the time spent since.

Schanke's doubt quickly vanished, with Nick showing him the removed
bullets the clincher.  As it was only fair, he told Nick about his
interview with the IVEA agent.  Finishing, Schanke stated, "They made
that up about you.  They were trying to get me to give you away, to
turn on you and see if I knew anything that would help them."

"Thank you for not doing so, Schank."

"I couldn't tell them anything, though.  I don't know enough about you
to--"

"You know more than enough.  There's Janette, the Raven, and--" Nick
cut off, but too late.

"Janette.  So, she is a vampire, yes?"

Nick squirmed, uncomfortably.  He didn't answer.

"And--"

"Schanke....  Let's just say you know plenty enough about me to give
them a good lead.  Little inconsequential bits of information...gold
mines to them."

"Do you, ah, think they'll find you?"

Nick looked away.  "After I leave here?  I don't know.  Probably.  But
how or when that will play out, I don't know."

Schanke watched Nick's attention abruptly turn toward the door and
asked, "What is it?"

"Myra and Jenny."

Schanke looked to the door just as a somewhat nervous Myra opened the
door, Jenny following, and an involuntary shiver ran through him at
the ease at which Nick knew someone was approaching.

Jenny stepped inside, her eyes going wide upon seeing Nick there.  She
already knew what had happened--she had seen it on the news just
before she left for school.  Locking her eyes on Nick, she bluntly
asked, "So, did you do it?"

"Jenny!" Myra exclaimed at the abruptness.  And then she answered,
"And no, he didn't kill her."

"But you are a vampire, aren't you?" Jenny prodded, slowly stepping
closer, cautious but curious.

"Yes," Nick answered, doing his best to make his expression pleasant
despite his weariness.

"Is what's been said on TV about vampires true?"

"About our abilities and disabilities, yes.  Much of the rest is
biased or untrue."

"So, you don't want to kill me, or drink my blood?"

"No," Nick said.  And although it was true that he had no desire to
harm her, he still tensed.  Between the events of the morning and
being weakened so much, he genuinely had no real want for blood, not
even a little.

"Can I--" Jenny cut off as her mother put a hand on her shoulder.

"Room and homework."

"But--"

"Perhaps later, if Nick feels up to it, he'll let you ask some
questions?" Myra said, turning her attention to Nick.

When Nick nodded after a moment, Jenny brightened and hurried off to
her room.

"Will you?" Schanke asked.

"Maybe, if I'm awake."

"If you're...."  Schanke then asked in a whisper, "How are you doing,
really?"

Nick's eyes darted away from both Schanke and Myra.  He could feel
their concern for him.

"You leaving tonight?"

"No," Nick answered.  "Not tonight.  If I can stay here, that is?"

Schanke automatically nodded.  How could he refuse?  Then, slowly, he
went still, realising Nick likely had few reasons to remain.
"Wait...you're going to try and stay for Natalie's funeral, aren't
you?"  Schanke watched his partner stiffen, but not answer.  "You
know, I should throw you out for your own good."

Nick looked down once again, but shook his head.  However much he
wanted to stay, he knew he couldn't.  "No, I should be gone before
then."  Meeting his partner's eyes, he evenly stated, "And yes, it
would probably be best, for both of us.  I don't think it would be
wise--for you or your family--if I stay more than a couple of nights,
if that."

No one immediately said anything.  After conversation became awkward,
Myra fidgeted slightly and then headed toward the hall, saying, "Well,
you're here at least until tonight.  I'm going to straighten the spare
room up a bit for you and find some clothes that are better than those
destroyed ones you have on."

Nick then slowly leaned back into the couch, relaxing once again.  He
tried to focus on anything, something...but everything was either
blank or a muddled mess.

"Where are you going to head to?"

At that, Nick's eyes shot toward Schanke.

"Well, I guess it's probably best if you don't say...but so you have
somewhere in mind?"

Nick looked away, absently looking about the room.  Truthfully, he
didn't know where he would go.  He hadn't been able to sense even a
hint of Janette or LaCroix for a couple of weeks--not even enough to
know what direction to head in.  And he had tried.  Perhaps they had
fled too far?  "No," he finally answered.  "No, I don't know where
I'll go."

A few minutes later, Myra returned, mentioning where he could sleep
and that she had set out some clothes and a towel for him, if he
wished to take a shower.

Nick simply nodded.  He didn't want to move.  Then, when Myra became a
little nervous, her eyes darting at the increasing sunlight streaming
into the room, he told her, "I'll be fine out here for a while."

"I'll make sure Jenny knows not to disturb you," Myra said.

Before Nick could protest, Myra had vanished down the hall.  It was
probably best, anyway.  For now, he just wanted to sit and not think
of anything....


Downward Spiral - (07/27)

Suddenly, Nick woke from sensing someone hovering over him only to
have it confirmed by a rapid--and rather nervous--heartbeat.  In the
dark room, he instantly reached out and grabbed the mortal by the
arms.  When the small form went to flee, he turned and pulled her
back, instinctively preventing a scream by covering her mouth.

It was Jenny.  Nick closed his eyes, holding her in place for several
seconds before slowly releasing her.

Jenny turned around and took several steps away from the bed.  "I
didn't mean to--"

"What time is it?" Nick asked, his eyes darting to the dark and silent
hall behind Jenny.

"Ah, it's 5:19 AM.  Or it was...."

After five...the sun would once again be up soon.  He had slept far
longer than he had intended.  Nick fell back onto the bed.  He was
still tired.  He closed his eyes, but opened them a minute later when
the heartbeat approached and Jenny sat on the bottom corner of the
bed.

"You know, you don't look like a vampire."  Jenny folded her legs,
sitting cross-legged, and then mentioned, "But then I don't think the
others do, either...the ones they've shown pictures of."

Nick closed his eyes again.  He had spent hours and hours staring at
the news, and the pictures flashed in his mind involuntarily.

"I don't think it's right.  You don't seem...evil, like they say you
are."  When Nick didn't speak, she slowly continued, "The
pictures...it's lonely being a vampire, isn't it?"

Lonely....  Nick thought about that, the images flitting slower and
slower until they stopped.  Yes, being a vampire was lonely.  And he
slipped back to sleep.

"All the pictures look so sad and tired."  Jenny inched closer to Nick
until she sat next to him.  "Nick?"  She prodded his arm, but he
stayed still.

Carefully, Jenny backed up and off the bed, not wanting to disturb him
again.  Reaching the door, she pulled it back with her, nearly
shutting it as she felt the air move behind her, a woman's hand
pressing against the door.  Jenny looked to the side and could just
make out the stark contrasted outline of a pale complexioned, dark-
haired woman.

"I will not harm you," Janette whispered.  Then, with a nod toward the
room the girl had come from, she asked, "Is Nicolas...?"

"He's, ah...." Jenny started, barely in a whisper, but ended up merely
nodding.

Pushing the door open, Janette walked past the girl and into the room.
She sat on the bed's edge, setting a fabric tote on the floor next to
the bed, which clanked against the dresser.  Janette gently touched
Nick's face.  He remained asleep.

Janette's gaze shifted to the door as the girl vanished from sight,
likely off to wake her parents.  Her primary focus returned to Nick,
whose skin felt unusually cold.

Schanke recognised Janette the instant Myra flipped on the light.  But
here, now?  "Janette, what--"

Janette turned, her eyes locking onto Myra.  "I think it would be best
if you and your daughter left."

Nervously, having neither seen nor heard anything about this woman
before, Myra asked, "Are you, ah, a friend of Nick's?"

After a short moment of hesitation, Janette told her, almost smiling,
"Yes, we're...rather old friends."

When Myra didn't back out of the room, Schanke turned and guided both
Myra and Jenny out into the hall.

"Detective."

Schanke turned, surprised at the single soft word.

"You may remain, if you wish."

Schanke looked back and over at Nick.  His partner still slept,
despite the sure disruption of the past minutes.  When Myra pulled
away, taking Jenny with her, Schanke nodded to Janette.  He would
stay.

Once satisfied that the other two had left, Janette told him, "Bring
me a glass."

The order made Schanke tense.  "Why?"

Janette reached into the bag she set on the floor and pulled out a
half-filled wine bottle.  She held it, fingering the unlabelled glass.

"Oh," Schanke said as his breath abruptly left him.  "Yeah, yeah,
I'll...ah, I'll be right back..." he said, stepping away from the
doorway.  He walked halfway back to his bedroom before realising the
kitchen was the other way and turned around.

Janette gently smiled at the mortal's nervous manner.  Then, she
slowly walked around to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge
next to Nick.  Leaning down, she kissed him on the lips, at which Nick
slowly woke.  And when he did, he kissed her back, a hand holding her
loosely in place.

Sensing the mortal's return, Janette gradually pulled back and sat up,
her fingers resting against Nick's lips as he closed his eyes.

Nick lay there, still, listening to his partner's nearby heartbeat.
Opening his eyes, he reached a hand up and pulled Janette's fingers
away.  "Janette, you shouldn't have--"

Janette replaced her fingers on his lips, stopping him.  "You would
rather I had not come?"  A hint of anger touched her features at his
worry over her safety.  "We've been worried about you, Nicolas, and
with reason.  You were staying so very long...."  Janette ran her
fingers along Nick's bottom lip.  "We haven't sensed you for weeks.
Nothing.  LaCroix, he--"  Janette cut off, the mortal's stiffening at
the name telling her she had said something that was new to him.  She
turned to Schanke, and not bothering to ask Nick if he minded, she
explained, "LaCroix is the one who brought Nicolas over."

"LaCroix?" Schanke asked, a bit puzzled.  Somehow he felt that Janette
thought he should know who this LaCroix was...and the name did sound
familiar.

Nick's eyes slipped shut once again and he turned his head away from
Schanke.

"Nicolas hasn't told you?"  Janette turned her focus fully on Nick,
and it was clear he had said nothing to Schanke of LaCroix.  She
pursed her lips, and then asked, "Has he said anything about me?"

"Nope.  Nada.  Wouldn't even confirm if you were like him or not.
Granted, he didn't deny it, either, but...nope, nothing."

"Hmm....  Not even a hint of...blame?"

"Janette...."

"Tell him, then."  When Janette saw that Nick was going to resist, she
half-snapped, "You trust him enough to come here, Nicolas.  And what
has he asked for in return?"

Schanke, between seeing how uncomfortable Nick was becoming and
feeling that discomfort himself as he listened in, interjected, "You
don't have to say anything, Nick."

Nick shook his head, "No, I should say something.  At least about
LaCroix.  You've...met him, in a way."  He smiled half-heartedly and
asked Schanke, "That 'creep' I used to listen to?"

"That NightCrawler guy?"

Nick nodded.  Then, after a few seconds, he stated, "LaCroix."

Schanke uncomfortably fingered the glass he had retrieved from the
kitchen.  So, that was why Nick listened.

Janette's eyes caught on the bloodstained bullet hole in Nick's shirt,
and her worry skyrocketed.  "What happened yesterday morning?  By the
news, I thought--"

"I'm fine now, Janette."  And then, Nick explained the short
confrontation he had when finding Natalie.

Janette closed her eyes for several seconds, and then put the bottle
of blood on the dresser.  She pulled Nick up, trying to get him to sit
up...but he wasn't helping her.  Between his explanation and how Nick
had been slowly starving himself, she didn't bother asking or
commenting.  Instead, she moved behind him, helping him sit up by
leaning against her.  She nodded toward the mortal, her eyes gesturing
to the glass in his hands.

Schanke moved slowly forward, and he handed the glass to Janette, who
had already pulled the cork out of the bottle.

"Janette, I don't want--"

"I know you don't, but you must.  Just a few sips, and then you can
sleep some more?"

Nick nearly protested, but he could handle a little.  He didn't feel
like arguing right now.  He let Janette pour him a few ounces of
blood, and then he slowly drank it.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Several hours later, long past dawn, Schanke poked his head into the
spare room, surprised when he found Janette awake, lying on the other
side of Nick.

Janette looked up and over toward the door, sensing the mortal
watching her.  "Yes, Detective?"

"What's wrong with him?" Schanke asked, nodding to Nick, who had slept
most of the morning since Janette had arrived.

"He has had far too little blood recently.  It is what happens to us
when we are on the brink of starvation."  When the mortal shifted
nervously, she told him, "Do not worry; Nicolas will be fine."

Schanke nearly asked another question, when the doorbell rang.  He
heard Myra go to the door, and then he heard Cohen's voice.  Schanke's
eyes widened, and after giving Nick a glance, he quickly and quietly
backed up, pulling the door shut once he was in the hall.

Schanke then headed toward the front door, slowing as Captain Cohen
came into sight.  As Myra left, he asked, "Captain?"

"I'm sorry to come here like this, but I looked over the IVEA's
interview of you and I was not impressed."

"Not much of an interview, huh?"

"I wouldn't know on that, Detective."  Cohen paused, explaining, "Much
of the transcript was blacked out."

"So you're here to question me?"

"Unofficially, yes."

"Unofficially?"

"The case is closed, Detective, and I have no more say in this matter
than you do.  The IVEA has made up their mind."

"They had that made up before they even talked to me, Captain."

Cohen nodded, dropping some of her professional manner.  "Shall I
interview you here, in the entryway, or--"

"Yeah, yeah, you should come in," Schanke said, somewhat preoccupied. 
Between knowing this conversation would bring back seeing Natalie,
dead, and would surely focus on Nick, who was hiding in his house....

"We can do this some other time?"

"No.  No, now is as good as any."  Schanke led Cohen into the living
room, letting her decide where to sit first.  Once Cohen sat on the
couch, Schanke chose to sit in a recliner, nearly opposite of her on
the same side of the room.  "I take it you being here means you don't
think Nick did it?"

"I think there's reasonable doubt."

"But you're not certain?"

"No.  But I take it you are?"

"Nick didn't kill her."

"And the rest?  I might not have access to her autopsy, but I do know
that what has been mentioned on the news is true.  She had been bitten
a number of times by a vampire.  Fed from, repeatedly."

Schanke froze.  Maybe he would rather this waited a couple of days?
He almost preferred the questioning he had received the previous
morning over having to deceive Cohen, whether that be through out-
right lying about not seeing Nick or merely giving his views on the
matter--opinions based on information than he had no plans on sharing.

Cohen was about to elaborate when Nick slowly approached seemingly out
of nowhere, stopping any comment.  He looked exhausted and unwell, and
she recognised his clothes as those he had worn the last time she had
seen him at work, although they were now rumpled and she spotted a
couple of tears and blood stains on his jacket.

Schanke noticed Cohen was distracted and turned.  He instantly stood
upon finding Nick there.  "Uh, Captain, I--"

"I was feeding from her," Nick stated, his voice soft and his eyes not
quite meeting Cohen's.

Janette stepped up to Nick from behind and tried to pull him back,
tried to get him to change his mind on this.  She stopped when it only
made Nick stumble as he forced himself out of her touch.

Cohen eyed the vaguely familiar woman.  About the only thing she was
sure of was that she was clearly a friend of Nick's and likely another
vampire.  Returning her focus to Nick, she asked, "With or without her
permission?"

"With."  Nick glanced away before telling Cohen, "Natalie knew what I
was.  It was her insistence that I take her blood.  I wanted to
refuse, but I couldn't.  I either had to take her blood or I had to
leave, possibly drawing attention to myself...and in turn her."

Janette stepped forward, walking around Nick, all the while keeping
her attention on the woman.  "Nicolas did not kill Natalie.  I have
known him for a very long time, and he would not."

Taking a step forward, Nick took Janette by the shoulders, pulling her
back.  "Janette--"

"Nicolas should rest," she said, her eyes focused solidly on Cohen.

Nick pulled Janette back even further, and leaning forward toward her
ear, said in a soft and almost harsh whisper, "Go, Janette.  I'll be
fine."

"But--"

"This is my choice, Janette!  I wish to explain what happened, what I
saw."

Janette closed her eyes and looked to the side.  She said nothing.
After a few seconds, she moved aside and walked toward the bedroom,
casting a glance back at Nick just before vanishing down the hall.

"What happened...Nick?" Cohen asked, hesitating before saying Nick's
first name.  "I suppose Knight isn't your real name?"

"No.  No, it isn't."  Nick paused, and then he explained everything
from when he had arrived home the previous morning to when he had fled
after being shot at.  He even mentioned having tasted Natalie's blood,
why he had done so, and what he had learned from it.  And, briefly,
that he suspected the IVEA was behind what happened.  He mentioned
very little of his time spent at Schanke's, other than to give a short
detail of his reaction to what he was shot with.

Cohen's eyes again flickered over Nick's clothes.  She was still
examining the bullet holes when he stood and, from his jacket,
procured his gun and badge and sat them on the coffee table separating
them.

"I won't be needing these."

"I can't take them, Detective.  And I'm sure you are fully aware of
that.  Questions will be asked if I--or anyone else--ends up with
possession of either item."  She expected him to pick his badge and
gun back up and, when he turned toward the hall and started off
without so much as a word, her focus again returned to his tired
manner.  However much she wanted to speak with him about any number of
things, Cohen knew him well enough to know he wouldn't answer her.
Hearing a door shut down the hall, she turned to Schanke and flatly
asked, "How is he?"

"I honestly don't know."  Then, after an awkward moment of quiet,
Schanke asked, "Are you going to tell anyone about Nick being here?"

Cohen tensed, but shook her head.  "No, this visit was purely for my
own interest.  Just be careful."

Schanke nodded and, as Cohen stood and started for the door, silently
showed her out.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Janette entered the bedroom that evening, shortly before sunset,
watching Nick take a sip of a glass of blood she had poured for him
earlier.  Although she had been gone for several minutes, the glass
was nearly as full as it was when she left.  In fact, his nervousness
and tenseness as he sat in the chair in the room's corner told her
that he had only taken that one sip.

"Is it done?" Nick asked, not turning to look at Janette.

"Yes.  She'll remember nothing of your...visit.  She is sleeping."

Nick closed his eyes, looking down.  He hadn't wanted to take Jenny's
memories away, but he knew it had to be done, for safety.  It was bad
enough that both Myra and Schanke would remember....  Janette had
brought the topic up earlier after Cohen had left and after mentioning
that they should to leave that night.  And he had agreed it had to be
done, but had been reluctant to do so.  Janette had suggested she
should do it, that he had had enough stress over the past two days,
not to mention the past several weeks.  And then that had been the end
of that conversation.

"Nicolas?"  Janette slowly approached Nick, watching as he stared at
the blood, slowly swirling the glass, completely lost in thought.
"Have you told your partner?"

Nick stopped all movement.  Still not turning to Janette, he told her,
"No."

"Nicolas....  We must leave as soon as the sun sets.  You know that." 
She stepped up to him and brushed his hair back from one side of his
face.  "And you've barely touched your glass."

"I'm not--"

Janette tilted his gaze up to look at her.  "I know, but it will take
most of the night to reach where LaCroix and I are currently staying. 
You must drink as much as you can."

Nick pulled his head back and away from Janette's touch, returning his
attention fully to the glass of blood.  He upended it, forcing himself
to drink the whole glass at once.  It was the only way he would manage
more than a couple sips, even if he risked both feeling and becoming
sick again.  Nick then abruptly stood up, the action forcing Janette
back.

Janette followed Nick out of the room, picking up the bag that she had
put the bottle back into.

Nick hesitated as he went to the living room, only to find that his
badge and gun weren't there.

"I have them, Nicolas," Janette said, patting the bag slung over her
shoulder.

Nick slowly nodded, and then he froze as Schanke walked in from the
kitchen.

Schanke, seeing Nick resembling a deer caught in someone's headlights
and Janette looking like she was ready to leave, didn't have to ask
what it meant.  "You're leaving and you won't be back, will you?"

Nick averted his eyes.  "Yes, and no, I probably won't."

"I'll tell Jenny--"  Schanke cut off when Nick stiffened.

"Jenny has no memory of Nick or I having been here the last couple of
days.  Say nothing to her."  Janette started for the back door.  Just
before she left, she urged, "Come, Nicolas, the sun has set."  She
then left, walking outside to wait for Nick.

Nick gave one last glance to Schanke, giving him a nod as he, too,
parted.

Schanke called after Nick, wishing him luck, aware the chances of
seeing his partner again were likely very slim.  If at all.


Downward Spiral - (08/27)

Janette followed Nick down to the ground for the forth time that
night.  The first time, it was because he had gotten sick, apparently
from the blood he had drank.  The second time, he had needed to rest. 
The third time, he again needed to rest, during which she managed to
persuade him to drink the remainder of the blood.  And now?

She spotted him, sliding down to the ground against a large tree as
she landed.  Janette hurried over to him.  "Nicolas?" she prodded as
she knelt on the packed dirt at the base of the tree, taking his face
in her hands.  His skin was so very cold, and he looked exhausted.
She reached for his hands, taking them in her own, and then tried to
urge him to his feet.  "Come, Nicolas, it is not much further."

Nick just shook his head, neither bothering to get to his feet nor
pull out of Janette's grasp.  He closed his eyes, muttering, "I'm
tired, Janette."

Janette rubbed the back of Nick's hands with her thumbs.  She again
attempted to urge him to get up, but she only felt him slip even
further away from her as he lay down, eyes still closed.  "Nicolas?"

"I'm fine," he whispered.  "Just need to rest a few...."

"No, we must--"  She stopped when his muscles gradually relaxed.  He
had fallen into a deep sleep.  Janette closed her own eyes, but only
for a few short seconds as she felt her own tiredness creeping in,
trying to convince her that a quick nap would be good.  But she didn't
dare do so, not at early-morning while out in the open spare a few
trees.  They had been so very close to arriving....

Janette sat down next to Nick, her right hand occasionally caressing
his cheek or neck, trying to wake him up.  And, after nearly an hour,
she managed it, his eyes slowly opening, unfocused.  "Nicolas?"

Nick slowly sat up, feeling his body ache as it sluggishly responded. 
"How long?"

"Not quite an hour."

Nick closed his eyes, taking in several deep breaths.

Reaching her hands back up to Nick's face, holding each side, she told
him, "I know you're not doing well, but we must continue."  She felt
his head nod ever so slightly.  "The blood from earlier, how--"

"I'm fine, Janette.  I'll be fine."  Nick forced himself away from
Janette and to his feet.

Slowly getting to her feet, Janette pursed her lips, watching Nick
stand before her somewhat unsteadily.  But he was standing, and they
had less than an hour more to fly.  She turned away and took off.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

LaCroix sensed Janette's arrival mere seconds before she pushed the
door open, walking into the room tiredly.  However, his concern
immediately went to his son, who paused and leaned heavily against the
doorframe, gripping it with one hand for even more support.  Even as
close as they were--a mere dozen feet and shrinking as he approached
the younger man--he could not sense his son in any manner.

He pushed by Janette to get to Nick quicker, and he quickly raised his
hand and pressed it against his son's cheek without a reaction from
the other.  His skin was so very cold....  "Nicholas?"  Again, he
didn't get a response.

Nick was so exhausted he couldn't speak, couldn't even take another
step.  He was starting to feel sick again, but he was too tired for
that as well.  His vision abruptly blurred, and he could feel the wood
of the doorframe sliding against his hand and shoulder.

LaCroix noticed the change just in time to slow Nick's fall, lowering
him slowly to the ground.

After closing the door to the sparse apartment, Janette stated, "He is
very weak, LaCroix."  She paused, hesitating before telling him, "When
he found Natalie, they went for him.  They disable us before killing
us, LaCroix.  And he just managed to get away."

"Tell me what happened, exactly."

Janette did so, explaining what little Nick had told her.  Finally,
she told LaCroix, "He is having trouble keeping any blood down.  And
perhaps worse, he has no desire for it.  It is like what you
experienced with the poisoned blood."  Janette hesitated, wondering
what more she should say, and then told him, "And please, take care
what you say about Natalie...I don't know how he is taking what
happened."

"What do you mean?" LaCroix asked, his attention shifting fully away
from Nick.

"He hasn't talked much about her.  He has slept most of the last two
days and spoken very little."  Janette stepped closer as LaCroix knelt
down next to Nick.  "You can help him, can't you?"

"Nicholas will recover only if it is not too late."

"If it's...but--"

"I cannot sense him, Janette.  Nothing!  Not now, and not when you
arrived."

Janette swallowed.  She had noticed Nick appearing to get worse, but
she hadn't expected Nick's condition was that serious.  Would Nick
want to keep living?  It was one thing to be a vampire as vampires
were being exposed to the world, and another to be accused of killing
a good friend, shoved out of one's life, and having one's name posted
on every channel.  And with how he physically felt....  She had to
admit that he seemed like he was giving up, but she had assumed it was
the poison.    Could this be too much for him?  She could see LaCroix'
intense worry as he tended to Nick, hoping Nick's possible disinterest
was temporary.

LaCroix went as far as slicing both their palms and placing the wounds
together in a hope to help, but even he was unsure whether this would
be much aid to his son.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

The following night, hearing a light knock at the door Janette
cautiously opened it to find Aristotle.

"I must speak to LaCroix."

"This is not a good time.  Nicolas--"

"Yes, yes, LaCroix mentioned you were retrieving him.  How is he?"

"Unwell."

Aristotle stepped inside, Janette backing out of his way.  He gave the
room a glance and then quickly headed toward what he knew was LaCroix'
bedroom.

Janette followed, watching LaCroix turn toward Aristotle as he
approached.  Nick, who was entwined with LaCroix, shifted slightly at
the other's movement.

"Nicholas is--" Aristotle halted his response as Nick stirred further,
waking.

Nick woke, feeling restrained by LaCroix.  However, he didn't attempt
to forcibly break free, and instead leaned back to get a better look
at who had spoken, at which LaCroix released him and let him lie
completely on his back.

Aristotle took in Nick's pale and ragged features, commenting, "You
don't look well, Nicholas."

"I don't feel it, either," Nick forced out in what manifested as a
whisper.

First walking back to the door and then turning toward LaCroix,
Aristotle said, "LaCroix, I need a word with you."

LaCroix got out of the bed and stood, but hesitated following
Aristotle out of the room.  He could see how weak his son was, despite
that he was currently awake.

"I'll be fine," Nick said, his voice stronger, but far from sounding
strong or certain.

Without another word, LaCroix turned his attention to Janette, giving
her a firm glance before leaving, the action silently telling Janette
that he wanted her to remain with Nick.

Once in the main room of the apartment with Aristotle, LaCroix
questioned, "What is it?"

"First, I would like to know about Nicholas' condition.  There's his
hunger, but there's more, isn't there?"

"He was somehow shot with the mortals' drug."  Then, firmly, he
stated, "Nicholas will recover."

"How can you be certain?  The tainted blood was enough to kill some of
us.  You, yourself, were sick for several days.  If he was shot,
Nicholas has likely received a much higher and purer dose of this
drug, and while he is not young he is still younger than some of those
killed by the tainted blood."

"Why are you here?" LaCroix demanded.

"The information you wanted."  Aristotle pulled out a computer disk
and held it out to LaCroix.  "It's the list I've compiled on those
that are either confirmed dead or believed to be dead.  I assume you
should be able to find what you're looking for in there."  Aristotle
hesitated before heading toward the door, considering asking LaCroix
to tell Nick something for him, but changed his mind.  LaCroix would
likely say nothing.

"LaCroix?" came Janette's voice, causing the other two vampires to
turn toward her.  She said nothing more, not wanting to worry
Aristotle.

Seeing Aristotle prepared to offer whatever help he thought he could
provide, LaCroix abruptly told him, "We will talk later."

Aristotle nodded, and then went to the door and left the apartment.

LaCroix then wordlessly headed back to his son, only to find the
bedroom empty.  His eyes darted to the bathroom, where he could just
see a hint of the younger vampire.  He approached, but stopped short
of touching Nick, who was leaning against the counter, faintly
shaking.  "Nicholas?"

Janette pulled LaCroix back by the shoulder, merely managing to budge
him a few inches.  Then she whispered, "I believe his hunger has
returned."

LaCroix pulled out of Janette's grasp, looking at her for a moment
until she turned and left.  Returning his focus back on Nick and
taking a step nearer, he asked, "Is what Janette said true?"

"I'm not sure.  I want....  But...."  Nick turned, his eyes a deep and
burning gold.  "I am so very hungry...."  Then, closing his eyes,
after several seconds Nick finally answered, "And yet, even just the
thought of having any blood makes me feel ill."

LaCroix turned, planning on going to the kitchen and getting Nick a
glass of blood, only for a hand to stop him.  He again faced his son
and could see the hunger had only amplified.  LaCroix looked down when
his hand was taken, pulled upward and bitten into.  He said nothing at
the action, merely closing his eyes, allowing his son to take whatever
he wished.

Within moments, LaCroix found his wrist released.  Despite that he had
instantly opened his eyes, Nick had already managed to slide past him.
LaCroix stiffened.  He disliked being unaware of the younger man's
mood.  Silently, LaCroix left the room, but didn't follow after his
son.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Janette's eyes snapped open, thinking Nick had perhaps entered the
room--but he hadn't.  After Aristotle had left the previous night,
Nick had remained in LaCroix' room, only venturing out close to dawn. 
And when dawn had arrived and she and LaCroix headed to sleep, Nick
had adamantly stayed awake, not even returning to one of their rooms.

She had even gone to LaCroix' room to sleep, leaving her room empty in
case Nick wanted to be alone, but she never heard Nick head down the
hall to her room.  Nor had LaCroix, who could now sense Nick, which
was something she had not yet been able to do.

Carefully, as it was near sunset, Janette got out of the bed and
walked slowly across the room to the door and left.  She headed to the
living room, where the glow of a computer screen put Nick's very awake
features under a harsh light, making them weary.  When Nick didn't
comment, she approached and sat next to him.  And then, seeing that
the computer was LaCroix' and that he was looking at the file
Aristotle had brought over, she asked somewhat curtly, "What are you
doing?"

Nick snapped his attention to Janette.  "Haven't you wondered?"

"Wondered what?"

"Why they aren't taking credit for all they have done, all they have
killed?"

"Well, they couldn't until the announcement was made, could they?"

"But they could have gotten started on catching up, yes?"

"Nicolas...."

"Look."  Nick turned the computer slightly, so that it was facing more
toward Janette.  He then opened another window, containing a table
with two lists.  He went to the bottom of the lists--one of which
ended far sooner than the other.  "There are 314 names in the first
list and 447 in the second."

"Yes, yes and they have officially killed 314 of us.  So what?  I
heard LaCroix mention--"

"Janette, 447 is how many vampires they've killed since the
announcement."

Janette's lips parted.  This was new to her as LaCroix had said little
on actual deaths because even he didn't know.  That was partly why he
had been goading Aristotle, wasn't it?

"They want to kill all of us, Janette.  That is their goal.  Their
only goal.  They don't care how they kill us or what else they have to
destroy to get to us."

Janette nodded slightly and whispered, "Like Natalie."

"Like Natalie," Nick repeated.  Then, he softly added, "I thought she
would be safe.  I had planned on leaving, and I thought she would
finally be safe."

"Mortals are never safe."

"And apparently neither are we."

"No.  No, we're not."  Janette turned her attention back to the
screen, and then to Nick's hand as he picked up a glass of blood.  A
near-empty bottle sat close by.  As she and LaCroix had finished off a
bottle earlier that day, she knew Nick had drunk most of that bottle. 
It meant their small supply had just gone down a full bottle, but it
also meant, hopefully, that Nick was improving.  Cautiously, she
asked, "You are feeling better?"

"Somewhat.  It's fading quicker than the first time."

"First time?"

Nick nodded, and then explained the incident involving the drugged
cookies and, that while he had not felt as overall sick as he did now
that he had felt at least somewhat ill for over a week after that.

They then sat silently in the room, Nick slowly scrolling though one
of the files.

Both started when LaCroix flicked the light on a few minutes later,
sunset having now arrived.  Approaching, LaCroix eyed his son sitting
nervously at his computer.  He also saw the glass and bottle, neither
containing much blood.  And although he sensed his son was stronger
and although no permission had been asked before using his computer,
he tried to remain calm, simply asking, "What are you doing?"

Nick didn't answer, his eyes darting back to the screen.

"Nicolas has been...ah..." Janette started, but trailed off.  She
wasn't sure exactly what Nick had been doing.  After a second, she
told him, "I believe he is using the information from Aristotle's
disk."

"Nicholas?"

This time, at the almost curt prodding, Nick answered, "Janette's
right.  I'm using information from the disk and from what has been
publicly released."

"For what?"

When Nick merely smiled, his expression oddly satisfied, Janette
nervously told LaCroix, "Comparing the numbers of those that have died
and the deaths that have been revealed since our existence
was...announced to the mortals."

"And more," Nick added, his eyes sticking on the computer screen.
"They have no intention of revealing how many of us exist, how many of
us they have killed."

LaCroix stiffened ever so slightly at the hint of anger in his son's
voice.  Slowly, he approached, watching as Nick quickly saved and
closed out all the files he had opened.  "Aristotle will want to know
what you've been up to.  He is visiting tonight, for the return of the
disk."

Nick switched the computer off.  "And?" he curtly asked, glancing
solidly up at LaCroix as he put the screen down, including a burst of
unneeded force.  "I don't think he would care what I've been doing."
Standing, Nick heading quickly for his room.

Roughly taking his son's arm as the younger tried to flee, LaCroix
fought back his anger.  Despite seeing and feeling Nick relax; he also
saw that Nick kept his adamant expression.  Nothing he said or did to
the younger would provide any effect, he suspected.  And so,
reluctantly, he released Nick and watched his son retreat into the
hall.


Downward Spiral - (09/27)

Arriving at LaCroix', Aristotle again quickly found himself told that
Nick was resting and should not be disturbed.  He wished to see the
other's condition for himself, but he was also aware that when LaCroix
was set in something, he would not be easily persuaded otherwise.  And
then, when he had asked LaCroix if he had found what he was looking
for in the information, he caught a glance pass from Janette toward
LaCroix and an ever so slight glance toward the hall.

When LaCroix didn't offer up an answer, Aristotle asked, his
frustration surfacing, "What does this have to do with Nicholas?"  The
other merely stiffened, which was plenty enough of an answer for him. 
"He saw what was on the disk?"

LaCroix kept silent, at which Janette answered, "Yes.  He--"

"It is nothing of concern to you," LaCroix harshly stated, glaring at
Aristotle.

"I am concerned for Nicholas.  The information contained various
vampires' information, all on those who have been killed, and I
suspect he knew a few of them.  If it upset him--"

"He was comparing information, seeing how much the mortals were
hiding," Janette stated, wondering why LaCroix was now hesitant to
tell Aristotle when mere hours ago he had practically insisted that
they do just that.  "He was focused on it, intently."

"Interested?" Aristotle asked, his voice slightly animated.

"Yes, he seemed interested," Janette told him.  LaCroix sent a glare
at her, which she returned without hesitation.  LaCroix was being
overly stubborn and protective of Nick.

"Out!" LaCroix hissed, stepping toward Aristotle.  When the slightly
younger vampire didn't budge, LaCroix pressed his demand harder, "Out,
now!  Leave us."

Aristotle stayed in place, stating with a hint of anger, "For not
wanting to disturb Nicholas you are making quite a racket, Lucius!"

LaCroix simmered at the words, but was stopped from forcibly removing
Aristotle by a hand on his arm--his son's hand.  His anger slid
slightly away upon feeling the weakness in the younger man's grip and
seeing the weariness in his expression.

Releasing LaCroix' arm, Nick stood on his own but slightly unsteady.
His face remained expressionless, but he focused solely on Aristotle,
even as all eyes were directed at him.

"How are you, Nicholas?" Aristotle asked as he took a step forward.

"Fine."

Pleased that the other's voice sounded stronger than he had expected
via LaCroix, Aristotle said, "Janette mentioned you were interested in
the disk I loaned LaCroix."

"It was something to do," Nick immediately answered.  "And yes, it was
interesting and...shocking.  I wasn't aware that many of us had died
and that the mortals were keeping silent on more than half of the
killings."

"They seem to be releasing a smaller percentage of deaths as they go."

"And they've killed a number of older vampires, far more than I
expected."

"Yes," Aristotle answered, nodding.  "They seem to only announce a
death when they have information on that individual.  Your escaping
put them in a panic.  They don't yet know as much about you as they'd
like, and with you alive....  Dead, they could have claimed you were
too dangerous and probably release specifics of why later, after they
had done more research.  But alive?  You have incited the general
population's curiosity, which does not look good for them.  They've
been frantically trying to find info on you before others do."

"Have they?" Nick asked, his voice somewhat harsh.

"They're finding something.  Felix contacted me about someone trying
to access records on that foundation of yours."

LaCroix scoffed, interrupting the conversation, causing Aristotle to
glare his way, clearly angry.

"It's not Nicholas' fault--don't go blaming him.  If these mortals
keep up, we'll all either be exposed or killed, including you."  Then,
hesitantly, Aristotle turned back to Nick, "They don't even mind
killing their own kind, even those that knew nothing of vampires.
Complete innocents."

Nick nodded, not answering aloud, the mention sobering to his already
slipping mood.

"You've been tracking them.  These mortals," LaCroix stated, walking
slowly toward Aristotle.

"Someone should.  The Enforcers don't seem to be doing it, not that I
blame them.  After all, they've lost a much greater percentage to the
mortals than we have, overall."

"Have they discovered either myself or Janette?"

"I don't know, LaCroix, have they?"  Aristotle shook his head.
"Unless they decide to make an announcement prior to trying to kill
you, I'd suspect you'd be the first to know about that."

"Answer the question.  Have they linked us to Nicholas?"

"As of this moment?  Not that I am aware.  Will they?  Yes, of course
they will.  You've followed Nicholas his entire life, LaCroix.  And
they'll probably link Janette in once they get you.  And, as I doubt
you looked at that information closely, I'll tell you right now that
they don't have a two thousand year-old dead vampire on their list
yet.  You'll be a good four hundred years older than any of the others
they've killed, and quite a prize."

"They would think you quite a prize, too.  Between your age and all
that information you have...."

"They haven't found me yet.  I've taken great care of that.  And they
won't find me anytime soon."

"If and when they--" LaCroix cut off as Nick steadied himself by
gripping his arm.  Glancing to the younger, LaCroix caught a hint of
hatred before Nick turned and walked back toward the hall.  He turned
to Janette, who shot a glare at him before starting after her brother.
LaCroix flew into her path, stopping her.

"I'll check on him, LaCroix," Aristotle stated.  He made it as far as
the hallway entrance before LaCroix shoved him to the side, the action
intending to slam him into the wall.  Aristotle yanked out of the
other's grip with difficulty, managing to duck out of the other's
immediate reach.

"Out!"

"I'm going to talk to him, LaCroix.  Alone."

LaCroix went for Aristotle again, planning to remove the other vampire
from his home.  Yet, this time Aristotle was ready and just managed to
escape him.  His anger intensified, but he knew it would do no good.
He was weak from helping his son, and it was showing.

"You controlling him is not what he needs right now.  He has had more
than enough of the last several months controlled by the mortals
hunting us.  Let him do what he wants for a change.  Give him the
option to do as he wants before he withdraws.  You may or may not have
directly hurt him with your words, but I seriously doubt you have yet
said anything to comfort him."

At that, LaCroix simmered.  However, he said nothing.

"I'll talk to him eventually; it might as well be now."

Conflicted, LaCroix weighed the other's words.  Janette had so far had
little luck talking to Nick, likely too afraid to push him away with
what she did say, her manner too gentle to get any response.  And he,
himself?  He had said little to his son for the same, overall reason;
although he would likely go too far given their viewpoints differed.
Sneering, LaCroix closed his eyes and turned away from Aristotle.

As Aristotle passed LaCroix and left the room, Janette cautiously
approached LaCroix.  She gently touched his arm, at which he looked to
her, eyes golden.  Letting her lips turn up into a gentle, reassuring
smile, Janette took her hand and rested the back of it against
LaCroix' cheek.  "Aristotle always got along well with Nicolas."  She
paused a moment, then slowly, with more emphasis, she told him, "Nick
will be fine."

LaCroix pulled away, going to the kitchen to distance himself from the
others and get a hopefully calming glass of blood.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"Nicholas?" Aristotle called, slowly approaching where Nick lay on the
bed, turned away from him.  When the other didn't respond, Aristotle
asked, "I'll leave, if you want me to."

Nick rolled backward, onto his back.  "It's fine.  It was just...."

"LaCroix."

Nick slowly nodded and then turned away, returning to lying on his
side.

"You're torn between wanting to kill every mortal that had even a
remote involvement in Natalie's death...and trying to pretend that
nothing has happened."  Aristotle took several steps closer, but Nick
didn't comment.  "The latter, you cannot and should not do for your
own sake.  The first is tempting, but introduces a new conflict...and
would just prove to the mortals that they were justified in going
after you."

Nick again remained silent.

"This is not your fault, Nicholas.  None of it is.  She knew the risks
of befriending you."

"She didn't know she was directly in danger."

"I suspect that she did.  From what I've gleaned from LaCroix, she was
a very intelligent mortal and I'm sure she knew they might target her
as well."

Nick sharply turned back to Aristotle.  "LaCroix--"

"He has kept far more of an eye on her than you know.  And although I
doubt he'll ever admit it, I believe he thought highly of her.  After
all, it's not often that he leaves your mortal friends alone, is it?"

Nick returned his gaze to the wall.  "I still should have left sooner.
It might have kept her alive."

"Perhaps.  But think how many mortals they have killed.  Dozens.
They'll kill anyone that knows too much and is in their way.  Do you
really think they would have left her alone after you left?  If they
knew you were a vampire, they could have still set you up for her
death, Nick.  They could have killed her, explained your departure and
absence as a way to divert suspicion in her death, then fabricated
evidence to blame you."  Aristotle sat on the edge of the bed.  "You
could not have changed this and shouldn't dwell on the possibility.
But neither should you forget, no matter what anyone tells you."

"It is time for you to leave, Aristotle," LaCroix spoke, the words
stern and controlled.  "Now."

At first, both Aristotle and Nick stiffened.  Then, Aristotle stood
and faced LaCroix, his eyes locked with the other vampire's for only a
few seconds before he left the room.

LaCroix remained in place until he heard Aristotle leave the
apartment, Janette no doubt closing the door as it shut silently.
Next, he nearly approached his son, but the other's tenseness told him
whatever he said would be useless.  And between Aristotle's last
comment and the weakness he still felt in his son, now was certainly
not the time to try to disperse the younger vampire's mood.


Downward Spiral - (10/27)

Cohen placed her hand on Schanke's shoulder and whispered, "I want to
talk to you in my office, now."

"But Captain, I'm--"

"Now, Detective," she emphasised, then headed to her office.

Schanke hesitated, not liking her tone.  But he knew she'd be giving
him a talk before too long; might as well be now.  Schanke put down
the file he was looking at, stowing it away in a drawer, and went to
Cohen's office.

Seeing Schanke in the doorway, she told him, "Close the door and sit
down."

Doing so, Schanke quietly commented, "You're going to suspend me,
aren't you?"

"I should."

"Even though Nick didn't kill Natalie and it's clear he didn't?"

"Unfortunately, whether I agree with you or not, this is not my case. 
Nor is it yours."  Cohen nearly smiled sympathetically, but the
seriousness of their conversation won out.  "You're in here because
Agent Burns has complained to her superiors about one of my detectives
harassing her."

"I have not been--"

"You have been interfering in their investigation.  You have stolen
autopsy records and shown them to a third party for interpretation."

"Yeah, and--"

"Let me finish, Detective."  Cohen paused several seconds before
continuing, "You have goaded Agent Burns, attempting to get her to
release information regarding their cases and the situation in
general.  You have been continually uncooperative with the IVEA's
agents in every way and have been far too vocal in your opinion of
them.  They want me to put you on leave.  Unpaid leave.  And that
isn't their first choice."

"What?  Captain, you can't."

"I didn't say that I would, only that that is the second best
recommendation on their list and not what they would prefer."

"And their first is?" Schanke prodded, although his thoughts were
already headed toward it.

"Permanent unpaid leave."

Schanke shifted.  They had wanted to fire him.  "So, you think I'm
right?  I mean, if you're not going to put me on forced leave
or...whatever."

"I think that if you want to discredit the IVEA or otherwise prove
they are being untruthful that you do it on your own time and not this
department's, and that you do so quietly."

"Captain, they killed Natalie, on purpose, so that they could blame
Nick.  Her autopsy and an unidentified set of footprints at Knight's
place proves it.  A vampire didn't kill her, Captain.  I'm not just
going to stand back and silently watch this."

"Then be aware that you will be put on leave if this continues.  I
won't give you another warning, and I don't want to hear about this
again."

Schanke stood.

"I know I've already mentioned this, but I really would like you to
take a few weeks off."

"And I'd much rather keep working.  I'm not taking any time off unless
I have to."

Cohen nodded, not having expected a different answer.  "I am going to
have to assign you a new partner, you know that."

He had dreaded this, hoping it would take time to shift someone in
place to work with him.  With a sigh, he asked, "When?"

"Next week."

Schanke's eyes started to glaze over.  "That's quick.  Who is it?"

"I don't know yet."  Seeing Schanke ready to protest, Cohen explained,
"The Commissioner is behind this one.  My hands are tied regarding any
choices.  I just found out about this an hour ago."  Watching Schanke
start to fidget, she told him, "You're dismissed."  Just as Schanke
reached the door, she added, "I would prefer if you didn't make too
much trouble, if only while the IVEA Agents are here, and if only for
your safety.  If it helps, know that they are almost done scrutinising
files and should be gone within the week."

Schanke nodded and left the office, pulling the door shut behind him
and letting out a long breath of relief.  That went far better than he
had expected.

"Still a Detective?"

Schanke jumped at the voice, turning to face one of the other
Detectives.  "Yeah, yeah, I'm still here."

"Good."

Schanke started off, but he heard his name called and turned back.

Softly, the other detective prodded, "Rumour has it you knew what Nick
was before...well, before this latest mess.  And that Natalie had
known for some time."

Schanke didn't answer.

"Anyway, mainly wanted to see if you escaped Cohen's wrath.  And
return my notes on what you wrote out for Natalie's funeral."

Schanke's face contorted slightly at the last.  He hadn't given
anyone....  But a folded piece of paper was stuffed into his hand and
the detective walked away before he could comment.  He opened the
piece of paper, to reveal a few short words written in an unfamiliar
hand:

     "We think Dr. Lambert was dropping this off for Nick."

Another folded piece of paper rested inside, Nick's name on the
outside in Natalie's handwriting.  Carefully, he opened the paper up
and read:

     "Someone's tailing us both.  Leave as soon as you read this."

Schanke stiffened at the warning Nick never received and immediately
wondered who the 'we' was...not to mention how they got the note in
the first place.  He recognised the Detective that had given him the
note, but knew little about him.  Was this a test to see what he would
do?

He refolded the two pieces of paper and put them in his pocket.  Then,
reluctantly, he returned to his desk and tried to work, but two things
weighed his thoughts down: The note, and Natalie's funeral later that
day.

And he could do nothing.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"I was not expecting your visit," LaCroix stated when he opened the
door to find that it was Aristotle who had interrupted the night's
quiet.  In fact, almost the entire previous week--specifically since
Aristotle's last visit--had been pleasantly undisturbed until now.

"Really?" Aristotle asked as he entered the apartment, mockingly
surprised.

LaCroix ignored the other's tone, asking, "And you are here
because...?"

"Nick has expressed an interest in helping us, and--"

"He will do no such thing," LaCroix spoke, cutting the other off.

"I have already accepted his offer, LaCroix."  Watching LaCroix'
emotions silently fume, Aristotle sombrely asked, "Nicholas didn't
tell you, did he?"

LaCroix turned away for a second.  Nothing had been mentioned to him,
and his connection with his son was weak enough that he had had no
indication of this.  "He will not be aiding you."

"He's plenty old enough to decide what he will or will not do!  You
told me he stayed in Toronto despite your, Janette, and even his
mortal friends' urging that it would be safer for him to leave.
You've mentioned that he has pushed what we are to the limit, and the
fact that he's still alive should tell you he has no intention of
throwing his life away.  Neither do I, and neither do any among the
handful of vampires poking into the IVEA.  Frankly, we could use his
help.  The others aiding me are too young to focus, their fear
overcoming them more often than not."

LaCroix nearly answered, but sensed both his children enter the room. 
He turned, his gaze settling on Nick until he noticed a hint of fear
on Janette's features.  Taking a step toward her, LaCroix hissed, "You
knew about this."

"Yes," Janette answered, her words as stinging as LaCroix' accusal.

"Aristotle is leaving the city tonight," Nick said, turning LaCroix'
attention back on him.  He paused several seconds before adding, "I'm
going with him."

"It's probably safer for both you and Janette if Nick travels
separately, anyway," Aristotle mentioned, expecting to silence LaCroix
long enough for himself and Nick to leave.

And at first, LaCroix didn't comment.  Just as Nick reached the door,
LaCroix asked Aristotle, "And you think he's safer with you?"

"Yes and no."  Seeing LaCroix' anger, he elaborated, "None of us are
safe.  But is he any safer here, hunting the mortals for blood, than
he is with me, hunting for information on those targeting us?  I think
not."  Aristotle opened the door, Nick walked through, and then he too
left, pulling the door shut.

LaCroix stepped toward the door but Janette stopped him, flying up to
him and taking his arm.  He jerked out of her grip only for her to
take his arm again.  Now he was overflowing with anger.  First his son
leaves, and now this from Janette?

"Let him go.  It will give him something to occupy his time with.  You
know how bored he would get staying here...."  She moved closer, then
whispered into LaCroix' ear, "He won't stay away long; you know that."

LaCroix closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to follow his son.
Janette did have a point...but it had barely been a week since Nick
had returned to them.  They hadn't even spoken other than, he would
admit, forced niceties.  Perhaps it would be for the best?  For now,
anyway.  Wanting to be alone, he gave Janette a sharp glance so that
she knew not to disturb him, turned, and then silently headed to his
bedroom.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Waking later that night, LaCroix immediately felt that something was
wrong.  Realising it was merely the absence of Janette, he relaxed.
Perhaps she had gone hunting?  They were, after all, nearly out of
bottled blood.

Going to the kitchen, he found the one partial bottle that had still
been in the refrigerator empty on the counter, a folded note stuck
under it.

He flew over to it, pulling it out from under the bottle with such a
quick action that the bottle never budged.  He opened the note, his
hatred overwhelming him at the words:

"I have left, LaCroix.  We are probably safer on our own, especially
since the mortals have linked us to Nicolas.  Oui, LaCroix, they have
linked us to him.  Just our faces and our present names, but they will
link more.  Be careful around the mortals."
      
By the end of the note, LaCroix' hatred had dimmed slightly, but
plenty enough remained for him to hurl the empty bottle across the
room before his emotions settled.  No matter what the mortals knew,
they were indeed a little safer travelling separately than if they
were together.  And then his anger subsided further, his thoughts
focusing on the last--that the mortals knew that both himself and
Janette were vampires.

Walking to the main living area he strode to the television and,
seeing that the remote had been moved, picked it up and flipped the
device on.  After hitting the channel up button several times, he
found a news station.

Immediately, it was clear that the announcement was very new.  Mere
hours, if that.

"After more than a week of the public demanding why no known and
living vampires have been revealed to the public, the IVEA has
released the identity of two vampires they say are linked to Knight."

LaCroix stiffened as the news flashed up photographs of both himself
and Janette, their current names below the images.

"Despite the revelation of two more vampires, the IVEA have been
flooded with requests for more information on both them and Knight, as
well as the release of yet more identities.  Regarding Knight, the
IVEA has promised to release his age and mortal name.  When asked
about Lucien LaCroix and Janette DuCharme, IVEA agents merely said
that they believe both are older than Knight, but revealed nothing
more."

"Of note, the IVEA has not released information on more vampire
deaths.  And of great controversy is a growing number of protesters
demanding laws for the protection of vampire rights."

At that, LaCroix chuckled and shut the television off.  "Mortals," he
muttered, shaking his head slightly.  So contradictory.

After about a minute, however, LaCroix' amusement faded.  However much
he disliked the mortals, having them campaigning for vampire
rights...absurd, yes, but he knew his son would not be the only one to
think that might be useful.  Even he didn't have to think much to
realise the value of such an organisation if the mortals continued to
push this.

He smiled for a moment, the mortals' mixed news almost making up for
the sudden departures of both of his children.  Almost.


Downward Spiral - (11/27)

Aristotle took Nick to the new location he had set up a mere three
days earlier--a large house in a mid-sized city about 150 miles from
their previous location.

As it was close to dawn, Aristotle quickly showed Nick the layout of
the house and then took him to an empty bedroom.  "I'll introduce you
to the others in the morning," Aristotle said as he watched Nick enter
and glance about the room.  Fully aware the other's strength was below
par, he started, "If you're hungry, I can--"

"No, I'll be fine."

"Nicholas, Janette tells me you have not been--"

"Are any of us feeding like we should?" Nick asked, his tone faintly
terse.

"Hmm, yes, you do have a point on that."  Then, without further
conversation, Aristotle left the room, pulling the door shut.  He
turned and headed down the hall to his own room, only for one of the
young ones to poke their head out into the hall.

The young-looking man--appearing in his early twenties--had roughly
the same build as Nick, but his short, spiky purple-pink hair couldn't
be a further contrast.  "Is--"

"Yes, Nicholas is here.  And dawn has arrived and we should all sleep.
Do not pester him.  We'll make introductions later."  Aristotle
glanced to the side, where the other two, both women, also came into
the hall, curious.  "That goes for all of you."

As Aristotle headed past them and into his room, one of the women--a
blonde with shoulder length hair--smiled somewhat deviously.

"I wouldn't test Aristotle's patience right now," the man said.  "Nor
Knight's."

"Why not?" she asked.

The other woman, looking to be in her late twenties, petite with
longer, near-black hair hissed at the other woman, "You know what
Knight has had to deal with the last couple of weeks.  I would not
bother him with any of your games."  She went back into her room.

The man shrugged his shoulders and also left the hall.  Finally,
disappointed, the younger woman retreated into her room as well.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Even as night fell that night, Nick stayed in his room.  He had heard
the others in the hall after his arrival, and wasn't sure what to
think of these younger vampires.  Two seemed to have good sense, but
the third?  She didn't seem to care much about any of this.

Aristotle had warned him about her, but he still wasn't looking
forward to meeting her--or the others.  In a way, he wondered if he
should have just left to be on his own.  However, if he had, he
suspected that LaCroix would have never let him do so.

Reluctantly, Nick left the room and headed to the kitchen, which was
thankfully empty save for a glass of blood on the counter.

"That's yours, Nicholas.  It's not human, unfortunately," Aristotle
said as he reached the doorway.  "They've been waiting.  Curious to
meet you."

"Curiosity can be dangerous."

Aristotle narrowed his eyes.  The comment didn't feel right,
especially not given Nick was talking to another vampire.  "That
sounds like something LaCroix might say."

Nick didn't reply, instead going to the glass of blood and, picking it
up, took a drink from it without turning around.  He winces slightly,
the unpleasant taste of the cow's blood hard to tolerate after
becoming accustomed to human blood.  As he still felt a hint of nausea
accompany the blood, he downed the rest of the glass quickly.

"They can wait longer, if you'd rather do this later in the night."

"No.  Now is fine."  Nick turned around.  "Although first I would like
to know what they know about me."

"As much as anyone else does.  I didn't tell them much about you,
specifically.  They are aware of your fondness for the mortals.  And
they also know that you are a child of LaCroix'.  Both of those facts
create various assumptions.  Some true, some not, some...mixed.  All
too strong to ignore."  Seeing Nick tense, Aristotle elaborated, "Even
with your morals...Nick, your age and your relation to LaCroix more
than makes up for your weakness in their eyes.  You've probably spent
more time with him than any other vampire has.  And you must admit
that LaCroix is ruthless--even for a vampire--and certainly not
someone to cross.  The sheer fact that LaCroix hasn't killed you adds
assumptions and curiosities."

Nick tried not to think of what theories the others might have come up
with about him.  Just as Aristotle took a step back, he stated, "And
then there is what's been on the news."

"Yes.  And the mortals haven't been very kind in that regard."

Nick nodded, more to himself than Aristotle.  When the other headed
out of the room, Nick followed.  He paused upon seeing the three
vampires sitting, fidgeting as they waited.

Pleased at the good behaviour of the three, Aristotle started, "As you
are all aware, Nick is going to be working with us.  I don't need to
say much to introduce him, do I?"

The three silently shook their heads, and Nick had the impression they
had been given a talk earlier that night, and he was glad.

"Good," Aristotle said as he gestured toward an empty chair for Nick
to sit in, while he sat in another.

Nick slowly sat down, letting himself sink down into the cushions,
relaxing much like LaCroix would, hoping it would keep the three at a
distance, if only for now.

Aristotle noticed Nick's purposeful action, but outwardly ignored it. 
He then nodded toward the young man, saying, "That is Nathaniel--"

"Nate," the young man corrected.

"Yes.  Nathaniel, or preferably 'Nate' is the resident...hacker, I
suppose you would call him, and his disregard for rules has come in
rather useful.  He is fifty-three years old, brought over at twenty-
six."  Aristotle then turned toward the older of the two women.
"Emily does much of the research; was working as a night curator at a
museum in New York until a few months ago.  She's ninety, brought over
at twenty-nine."

The third vampire--the young looking blonde woman--shifted
uncomfortably.

"And finally there is Holly, a mere nineteen and brought over a few
months ago.  Nate ran into her a few weeks ago.  She's rather valuable
in that all her information is still valid--no missing information in
her records for the mortals to latch on to--and she's the closest of
us to the modern mortal world."

"In other words, I don't draw too much attention...amazingly."  Holly
smiled coyly, clearly showing how conspicuous she could be.

Aristotle ignored the elaboration, remaining serious.  "The IVEA has
quite a challenge, and they seem to be treading very carefully."

"They failed to kill Nicholas, resulting in a live vampire known to
the world," Emily voiced.

"Exactly.  And now the public's curiosity is demanding answers.
They're questioning what is right."

"Favourable for us," Nick quietly said.

"To do what?  Advertise?" Holly hissed.

"To let the mortals realise they're wrong," Nate answered.  "They'll
get on the right road."

Emily shook her head at that.  "Yes, but how long will that take?  We
could give the mortals our side, but--"

"How?  Can't just walk up to them," Nate stated.

Angry at being cut off, Emily focused on Nate.  "No, we can't just
walk up to them.  Like I was saying, even if we can get out our side,
it likely won't do any good with the IVEA twisting everything."

Aristotle sighed, turning toward Nick.  "As you can see, there are
quite a few options, none of which we can seem to agree on.  We've
been stuck, arguing like this.  If we show ourselves, we risk both the
IVEA coming after us more intently, and a more precise opinion of the
mortals...which could easily lean either for or against us."

"But we can't just wait, either," Emily said.

"No, no we can't just wait.  But that's what we will have to do for
now."

Lost in thought, Nick knew that they were both right.  They couldn't
just wait, but they did have to take care how they reacted and how the
mortals could react.  They could do it, if they planned it well.

Aristotle stood, his attention landing on Nick.  "Come, Nicholas,
we'll show you what we're currently working on."

"Which is?" Nick asked, standing.

"Currently, we've been tracking a few of the IVEA's communications and
are sending out warnings."  Aristotle's expression became a bit
mischievous.  "Basically thwarting their attempts to kill us."  Then,
more seriously, he added, "Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be
slowing down the rate that they are killing us.  Luckily, they haven't
seemed to notice what we're doing, even though a few of them have
died.  I'm actually surprised that hasn't made it to the news.  Their
agents turning up dead, killed by vampires...you'd think they'd take
advantage of it."

"You've killed some of them?" Nick asked, a bit surprised, as
Aristotle hadn't mentioned anything remotely close.

"Not us, but with warning others, it's inevitable.  Seven of their
agents have been killed in the last two weeks that we are aware of.
Some of those that we have warned have taken the opportunity as a
chance to kill their would-be killers.  Some have succeeded, others
have escaped, just barely, and others have died trying.  However, most
flee at the warning, not wanting to take their chances.  And, as I
said, this is just the most current, active project at the moment.
We're doing other things, too."  Aristotle left, ushering the three
younger vampires out of the room first.

Nick cautiously followed.  In some ways, he would rather rest; but he
also looked forward to having something to keep busy with.  It's why
he had asked Aristotle if he could help.  Sitting around doing nothing
but waiting was not what he wanted to spend the next several weeks,
months, or longer doing.  Again, however, he wondered if, perhaps, he
shouldn't have come.

Once Nick reached him, Aristotle whispered, "As a note, the mortals
have released quite a report on you during the day, as well as
information on both LaCroix and Janette.  Including that LaCroix is
believed to be the one that brought both you and Janette across.  They
have Janette's age, but not LaCroix'...but they do have him listed as
being at least seventeen hundred years old, so they're getting close. 
They're not portraying any of you in a good light at all."  Then,
gesturing ahead of them, he added, "They haven't seen the new news
yet.  In addition, they've released more deaths, mostly those that had
been three to five hundred years old.  And again, they're not
portraying them well.  It seems the older the vampire, the worse they
twist things."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"Now maybe you'll second guess your 'partner', Knight or Brabant...or
any of the other names he's gone by the last several hundred years,"
Marissa Burns said, slapping a large file down in front of Schanke.

"What?" Schanke said, his brain not processing why this was now
important.

"You did see that we released more information on him, yes?"

"Yeah," he quickly answered, lying.  He hadn't seen or heard anything
for days...but he also hadn't checked the news since the previous
morning.  What had they announced?  Other than, apparently, Nick's
name and age.  He focused on the agent, keeping his expression solid. 
"And?"

"I suggest you take a good look at that file, Detective.  It's yours
to keep.  And it just might enlighten you."  Marissa left.

Schanke purposely put the file away, locking it in his top centre
drawer, not looking at it.  For one, now wasn't the time for it.  For
another, he'd much prefer glancing at the contents without others
watching him.  Home.  He would have to wait until he went home.

And for the next six hours, that's all that occupied the thoughts of
Detective Schanke.  Even with it being his last night sans a partner
and both Burns and her partner packing up their things, his mind
remained on the file.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"You should sleep."

Schanke didn't glance up from the pages of info despite his wife's
worried tone.  His forehead scrunched in confusion, he muttered,
"Later."

"You've been looking at that file since you came home.  You haven't
even eaten."

Closing his eyes, Schanke nodded.  He was hungry....  But the file
Marissa Burns gave him, what it said about Nick....  "I won't look at
it anymore today, okay?"  He managed a partial smile as he neatened
the stack of papers and put them back in the file folder.  He
hesitated a second before closing the folder, but really, it didn't
matter.  Much of the information still floated in his head.

"Sleep?"

"Soon, I promise," he said, meeting Myra's eyes more fully.

"Hmm."  When her husband didn't say anything more, Myra reached out
for the file, but it was moved away.  "I was just going to put it
somewhere Jenny wouldn't find it."

Realising what he did, Schanke apologised and handed the folder out.
Once Myra had taken the file and left the room, he again closed his
eyes.

What was he supposed to believe?  The file was a patchy history of
Nick's life, but given the history spanned nearly eight hundred years
'patchy' was actually rather complete.  Not every event of Nick's life
was detailed, but far too many years were.

And he hated to admit it, but the bad outweighed the good.  Worse, he
suspected much of this couldn't be contrived.  There were wanted
posters with Nick's name on it, even sketches of him.  And he could
easily count the clearly good actions Nick had done on one hand:
Doctor during the American Civil War, cop in 1950s Chicago, medic
during Vietnam, and his most recent stint as a detective.

And only Nick's latest profession seemed relatively unmarred.  Nick's
wartime experiences were dotted with documented curiosities and
concerns, some of which could be explained by the darker nature of
what he was.  And Nick's past history of being a cop?  He wasn't sure
what to think of that.  Offhand, he would say that Nick learned a
lesson at first.  But later, it was clear he wasn't entirely a 'by the
book' cop, something he knew from experience.  And Nick had clearly
used what he was to his advantage, like he probably did on their
cases.

And the rest?  The rest focused on the deaths that seemed to occur
wherever Nick popped up.  Was it real?  He had no idea.

But truthful or not, he saw one very clear pattern: As time got closer
to the present, Nick seemed to warrant less and less concern.  And
that wasn't something he could ignore.  Was it simply because Nick had
changed?  Or were the IVEA tainting Nick's history or simply not
bothering to look hard enough to find any good things?

It amplified his curiosity to the point he couldn't ignore the file.
If they thought this would shock him into dropping support for Nick,
however, they were wrong.

Suddenly, he yawned, his stomach rumbling in protest.  When he looked
at the clock, his eyes widened.  He knew he had been looking at the
file for some time, but didn't realise that many hours had passed by. 
First, he needed food and sleep.  Yeah, that's what was needed....

And Schanke stood and headed toward the kitchen.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Ambling a bit groggily into the precinct the next night, Schanke
froze, stiffening upon seeing Cohen waiting at his desk, his sense of
dread rising quickly.  "Captain?"

"My office."

Schanke followed her, knowing this was undoubtedly to introduce his
new partner.  Who would it be?  A detective from another precinct?
Perhaps someone transferred in?  A local cop just making detective?
He hoped not on the last as he slowed, approaching the office door.
Inside, he saw a thin man's back, and on first impression he was
reminded slightly of Nick by the man's light hair and dark jacket.

Cohen quickly introduced, "Schanke, this is Eric Nilson."

Nilson shifted, first turning toward Schanke and then standing,
holding out his hand, "Nice to meet you.  Cohen has told me much about
you."

Schanke shook the other man's hand, but lacked enthusiasm.  "Don
Schanke," he said, looking the other over.  Nilson was a stock
stereotypical Scandinavian, and with the tie and striped dress shirt
under his jacket he looked nothing like Nick...especially with the
deep tan and baritone voice.  "You know, Toronto isn't the best place
to move if you want to keep a tan."

"Probably not."

An officer appeared at the door.  "Captain?  Agent Burns is here.  She
wonders if she could have a word with you?"

Cohen openly sighed and nodded.  "Have her meet me in the conference
room."  Turning to Schanke and Nilson, she told them, "I'll be back.
Meanwhile, perhaps introduce yourselves a bit more fully?  You will be
spending much of your time together."

Schanke's gaze locked with Nilson's as Cohen left, closing the door.

"I don't blame you for being hesitant," Nilson said.

"What do you know about it?" Schanke asked, his tone coming out far
harsher than intended.

"Just what I've heard.  But I've also seen Knight's record--Cohen
showed it to me, before you got here."

"And?"

"And he sounds like he was a good partner."

Schanke relaxed a bit.  "Yeah, Nick was a good partner."

"He didn't kill her, did he?"

"No, he didn't."  Before the other could ask another question, Schanke
turned and left the office, heading toward his desk.  Problem was
that, of course, it meant Nilson followed.  He watched Nilson hesitate
before sitting, and Schanke reluctantly nodded.  It wasn't Nick's desk
anymore.  The IVEA had wasted no time before cleaning that out.

"What cases do you have open?" Nilson then prodded.

"Just the one active one."  Schanke grabbed a file folder and passed
it across to Nilson.  "That's the autopsy report."  Not feeling like
explaining anything right that moment, Schanke stood, telling his new
partner, "I'll be right back."  He nearly turned, but asked, "Coffee?"

"Sure.  Decaf."

Schanke headed off to the coffee machine, taking his time getting a
cup for each of them.  It was distracting getting two cups, and he
forgot the decaf for Nilson as he examined the other out of the corner
of his eye.  At least Nilson seemed like a worker and seemed to think
things through.  He couldn't be that bad, could he?  He certainly
wasn't Nick, but at least it seemed better than he had imagined.

Schanke headed back to his desk, three cups off coffee in hand,
walking right past LaCroix, his back to the vampire as he shuffled by.

Despite his image being plastered across the news, no one seemed to
notice him standing along the edges, watching.  No one even glanced
his way.  But then, this was the last place they would look for him.

LaCroix carefully avoided the paths of the mortals as he watched
Detective Schanke.  But the other seemed hesitant to move on, seemed
to be keeping his distance from his new partner.  He stiffened when
the mortal's eyes met his.  It was a quick glance, but the mortal had
clearly seen him and had clearly recognised him.  And the mortal
didn't react in the slightest...other than glance again, a faint smile
gracing the man's eyes.

Tensing further, LaCroix remained only a moment before leaving the
precinct, the danger apparent.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

As Schanke headed toward his car after work, now almost a week since
Nilson had been assigned as his partner, he jumped as he sat down, his
key missing the ignition.  A man was sitting next to him, in the
passenger seat, apparently waiting for him.  "Who--"

"Take care what you say to your new partner, Detective."  LaCroix then
opened the car door, preparing to leave, his warning given.

"Why are you telling me this?" Schanke quickly asked as he recognised
the man's voice.

"Nicholas would want me to."

"And where is he?"

LaCroix paused, looking out through the front window as he suppressed
the emotions that rose at the question.  "I do not know," he
eventually answered, then left.

Schanke glanced around for LaCroix once the passenger door shut, but
the vampire was nowhere to be seen.  Why tell him anything?

The information the IVEA had released on LaCroix was enough to send a
shiver through him.  LaCroix was, apparently, the one that had brought
both Janette and Nick across.  And he had heard enough of LaCroix'
radio broadcasts to believe he was just as ruthless as they were
portraying him.

Then, his thoughts turned to what LaCroix had told him.  Was Nilson
not what he seemed?  They did seem to get along well...almost too
well.  Not perfect and not difficult, just right in the middle.
Unconcerning.  Nilson was just there, doing his share of the work, not
overly confrontational.

Schanke tensed, realising for the first time how wrong the last week
felt.  He would have almost preferred to go through becoming Nick's
partner again.  That had started badly; neither one of them had wanted
to be the other's partner.  But it was better than the complacent
hints he was getting with Nilson, wasn't it?

But could he trust LaCroix?  None of this seemed right.  None of it.


Downward Spiral - (12/27)

[Mid-June, 1995]

"Aristotle, we have to get out of here now!" Nate hissed, gathering up
his computer and various other items.

Aristotle's expression turned toward a frown.  "Why?  You weren't
hacking into--"

"Of course I was.  And I'm nearly positive they got a trace on me.
Not before I managed to download quite a few of their files, but I'm
sure we're compromised."

Nodding absently, it took Aristotle a moment before he reacted.  "Help
Holly and Emily.  I'll tell Nicholas."

"Tell me what?" Nick asked, entering the room.

"Nathaniel here just tipped off our location, that's what," Emily
explained as she entered the room behind Nick.

"Yeah, well, be glad I did.  It's better if we're out of here now than
when they get here."

Aristotle froze.  "What?"

"They found Emily.  They traced her here, to this house, through the
rental papers."

"Yeah, and now what?" Emily started, entering the room.  "They've
probably decided I'm some computer hacker thanks to the pink-haired
git that can't stay out of trouble."

"It's not pink.  And like I said, they were already on their way!
Their coming had nothing to do with anything I did!" Nate said with a
near snarl.

"That's enough out of both of you!" Aristotle yelled.  "Now, I suggest
we get what we can together and leave.  We can discuss this later."
After Nate and Emily shuffled off down the hall to tell Holly,
Aristotle softly muttered, "Children."  Then, he turned to Nick, who
seemed lost in thought.  "I'm surprised you haven't said anything."

Nick shifted his focus to Aristotle, but didn't speak.

"You don't seem at all surprised this happened," Aristotle noted.
"Granted, with those three I'm not, either, but to be targeted
ourselves?"

"Being found is a risk, though, isn't it?  It was bound to happen
eventually."

"Hmm, yes.  And Nathaniel has hacked into their records more than
often enough to spark their interest into wondering who is doing it." 
Aristotle watched Nick leave, heading down the hall to his room.

Then, Aristotle worked on gathering various items throughout the
house, making sure nothing important was left behind.  When Nick was
the last to be ready to leave, he was surprised.  Other than the
clothes he had on when Nick came to them, he had no belongings.  Nick
had been sharing Nathaniel's clothes, but with reluctance.

The act of vacating the house took place silently, and mere minutes
before dawn the five arrived in the shaded interior of a random
mortal's unused barn.  It was too close to dawn to completely leave
the area.  And besides, it was likely what was hoped for--so they
could be traced.

As they settled in, taking care to ensure they would be out of any
mortal's way, Aristotle asked, "What information did you get?"

"They have LaCroix' history.  And they are and will continue to use it
to emphasise Nick's history...and in turn make us all look bad.  I
mean, if Nick is an example of a 'good' vampire, in that he can trick
a cop into siding with him...."

"Kill them all," Holly voiced with a tinge of amusement.

Aristotle ignored Holly, asking, "What else?"

"They're slowing down revealing those they kill.  They're trying to
pass laws that would expand their influence.  So far, that's not
working.  But they are also trying to develop a better method for
killing us.  Specifically something that would kill us in an
instant...and leave mortals unharmed."

"They've already done that," Nick stated.

"They have tested versions of their drug, yes.  But they are getting
closer.  They've already managed to kill two younger vampires with a
current version."

At that, Holly shrunk back, going silent.  After all, younger vampires
meant those like her.

"But?"

"It has to be ingested, with blood.  Otherwise, it merely weakens and
sickens."

"How young?" Nick asked.

"One had been a vampire for ten years, the other for seventy.  They
haven't had a chance to try it on an older vampire yet, I don't think.
That's all I know without looking at what I saved.  I don't know what
else I got.  I'll have to look through it."  Nate pulled out his
computer and powered it up, hoping the battery had charged enough
earlier that morning.  "And I found a news article earlier."  Pulling
up the saved article, he turned the laptop around to face Nick and
Aristotle.

"'IVEA Debunks Reasoning of Vampire Rights Campaigners'," Aristotle
said, reading the title.

A few moments later, Nick sat back, his eyes straying from the screen.

Aloud, Aristotle read, "'What do we do with animals that kill or
attack us?  What rights do we dare give to creatures that want to kill
us, treat us as a food source?  Give them limited killing rights?
Give them rights to stalk us, hunt us?  Let each vampire kill a
certain number of us per year?  I think not.  Vampire rights are a
moot point.  They are parasites without redeeming value, and that
won't change.  And what do we do with such parasites?  Cut them out.'"

"We have to say something.  Do something," Emily said.  "Anything."

"How?" Nate asked.  "If we come forward, they'll go for us.  They'll
take us down and either kill us or hold us captive.  We'd be targets."

"If we go to them on their terms," Nick commented with a whisper.
"Which means we have to make our own terms."

Aristotle slowly nodded.  "Yes.  But first we have to make home in
another city.  Then we'll work on seeing how much of the information
Nathaniel got is new.  And I hate to say it, but this next move is
going to need to be in a more populated area.  We're falling into a
pattern, and we'll be safer surrounded by mortals."  Nodding to Nate,
he instructed, "Take a look at what you got.  The rest of us should
try to get some sleep, but sleep lightly.  We are not safe here and
have no idea if we've been followed or not."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nearly three weeks later, LaCroix had finally tracked his son down.
It was difficult standing along the busy mid-morning street.  The
mortals ignored him, likely due to the sun being relatively high in
the sky.  He had barely fed, and the last two weeks trying to find
Nick had taxed what little energy he had left.

He wanted to pluck one of the busy mortals from their rushed and
mundane lives.  Truly, he needed to, his body demanding to feed,
demanding the blood they carried as they walked so close to him.  But
it would be foolish to take one here, with his son and other vampires
so close.

LaCroix turned his attention to the building across the street, an
apartment building he could faintly feel Nick's presence radiating
from within.  The younger vampire was still very weak, but the sheer
fact that he could sense Nick had urged him to find him.

And now here he was, his son so close....

Closing his eyes, LaCroix walked back into the shadows, making his way
across the street, enduring several seconds of direct sunlight.  No
one gave him a second glance as he entered the building.

Once inside, he paused, feeling even worse than he had minutes before.
The few seconds of sunlight had been a few too many.  It took merely
moments before he had found and entered the correct apartment,
surprised that the door was unlocked.  It let him go unnoticed, as all
the occupants were either asleep or closed off in their rooms.

Following his son's presence, he found Nick just leaving the bathroom
after taking a shower, a towel wrapped around his waist.

Nick froze, his focus immediately locking onto the minor burns along
one side of LaCroix' face and the other's blatant paleness.
"LaCroix?"

Walking slowly forward, LaCroix could no longer hide his hunger.  He
reached forward, tilting Nick's head back the instant the other was
within reach.  He paused for a split-second, and then struck and took
the blood he so wanted and needed.

At the action, Nick struggled, unprepared, but only for a moment as he
felt LaCroix' urgent need.

LaCroix nearly stopped when he felt Nick's muscles relax, but he
continued to drain the other until Nick went wholly limp in his grip. 
Only then did he remember how weak the younger vampire's presence had
seemed.  His own need for blood had been too much.

Although still weak and hungry, LaCroix took Nick across the room to
the bed, half dragging and half carrying the younger vampire's limp
form.

"LaCroix?"

Turning toward the voice, LaCroix saw Aristotle in the doorway.  He
didn't answer immediately, first positioning Nick on the bed more
fully.

"Why did you do that?"  Aristotle stepped closer, approaching.  When
the other didn't restraighten or look at him, his concern heightened. 
"LaCroix?"  As hungry golden eyes slowly met his, Aristotle inwardly
stiffened, quickly suggesting, "Perhaps let Nicholas rest while we
talk in the kitchen?  I'm sure you're curious as to what we've been up
to."

Not answering, LaCroix looked away and left the room.

Aristotle cautiously followed LaCroix to the kitchen, watching the
other calmly pour a glass of blood.  "Just a quick warning, but it's
cow's blood."  Aristotle expected a disapproving comment, and was
quite surprised when LaCroix remained silent, as if he didn't care.
"You haven't been taking care of yourself, LaCroix."

"My...health is of no concern to you."

"No, but Nicholas' is, yes?" Aristotle asked, just as LaCroix was
about to take a sip of the glass, immediately halting the other's
action.

"What about Nicholas?" LaCroix demanded, his anger rising.

"That's why you came, isn't it?" Aristotle half-taunted.  "Nick's just
fine, if you must know.  He has recently become a bit, well, absorbed,
but he is otherwise quite well, especially considering how many times
we have relocated over the past couple of months."

"But?"

"Well, I'm sure you can imagine.  Nicholas and I get along well, but
the others?  Between Nick's current mood and their fear it's more
forced than would be ideal."

"Nicholas--"

"He is probably doing better than either of us at the moment!  I hate
to admit it, but I'm ready to pack up and find some underground bunker
in Siberia and live there for the next decade or two.  Many of us have
already done similar."  Pausing, Aristotle calmed slightly, then
continued, "Nicholas has a plan, but it is dangerous.  I have some
others working on some research, to see if we can find a good target,
but right now it's just a thought."

LaCroix set his as yet untouched glass of blood on the counter behind
him and walked toward the kitchen's exit.

"Don't, LaCroix," Aristotle said, blocking the doorway with his arm.
"It's dangerous, but it might work.  And Nick seems invested in his
project.  Don't discount it just yet.  Especially given that we don't
have many options left."

"And just what kind of 'project' is this?"

"Doing something I don't think the IVEA is expecting.  And it will
hurt them greatly if it works."

"That is not an answer."

"No, it's not.  I think Nicholas would rather tell you himself."

"Then let me by."

"Not until you promise you'll listen to him.  Your disapproval will
only strengthen his determination.  What he could use most is support;
something he won't accept from me, nor the young ones, but he just
might take it from you."

LaCroix roughly reached for Aristotle's arm, but the other was too
quick and took his wrist, inciting his anger further.  Easily pulling
out of the other's grip, LaCroix glared at Aristotle, who still
blocked his way.

"Please, LaCroix.  Wait and listen to him carefully before you decide
a course of action.  And don't push him; don't force him."  Aristotle
heard movement in the house and quietly added, "And I'd suggest you
avoid draining him like that again.  He may have appeared to have
regained his strength, but he is not as strong as he looks."  Giving a
nod to the glass on the counter, he told him, "You'll have to share a
room with Nicholas.  And I would suggest drinking at least that glass,
if not more, before retiring."

LaCroix shut his eyes as Aristotle quickly vanished from the room.
Although he hated feeling like he was being ordered around, he picked
up the glass he had poured and drank it.  He had waited far too long
before feeding this time.  Even the glass didn't help much, and it
wasn't until he had drunk a full bottle of the foul tasting blood that
he finally felt even remotely normal.

By then, the house had gone quiet.  Taking another, unopened, bottle
of blood with him along with a clean glass, he returned to Nick's
room.  His son lay calmly on the bed, his eyes opening slightly as he
approached.

LaCroix sat the bottle and glass on the near-empty nightstand,
watching as Nick turned away, rolling onto his back so that his eyes
were focused solely on the ceiling.

"Please, LaCroix, I'm tired."

Smirking, just slightly, LaCroix replied, "Do not worry; I have no
intention of keeping you awake.  Nor myself," and then sat on the edge
of the bed, slipped his shoes off, and lay down.  He closed his eyes,
quickly feeling Nick shift, likely to face completely away from him.
But no matter.  Now was time to rest.


Downward Spiral - (13/27)

LaCroix abruptly woke, sitting up.  Nick was nowhere to be seen and,
according to the clock, it was nearly midnight.

Standing, LaCroix' eyes lingered on the empty bottle and untouched
glass.  His son had apparently drunk all of the blood, which pleased
him less than expected.  Then, seeing a flit of movement by the door,
LaCroix turned to find Nick slowly approaching.

"I'm surprised you slept so long."

"And?"

Nick kept silent, not expecting LaCroix to be so quiet, to reply so
simply.  After glancing away for a second, he asked, "Did Aristotle
mention what I was working on?"

"Vaguely.  He referred to it as your 'project' and seemed to think you
would tell me about it."  Waiting, LaCroix took a step forward, and
then another and another until he stopped behind Nick and in front of
the door.  "You will, won't you?"

"You won't like it.  Aristotle didn't at first.  I'm even a bit wary
of the idea."

LaCroix' eyes narrowed.  But then, Aristotle had said it was
dangerous, hadn't he?  But how dangerous?  "And your plan?"

"Give the mortals an interview.  Gather questions from them and answer
them.  On our terms."

Suppressing the urge to declare this idiotic, LaCroix demanded,
"More."

"Unannounced, we enter a news station, perhaps just one of us.  We
give the mortals inside a set amount time for them to write up
questions, and then we leave.  One of us will then be recorded
answering as many of the questions as are appropriate.  We then
deliver the finished tape to several news stations, again unannounced,
for the mortals to broadcast."

LaCroix' lips parted as if to speak, but he didn't have anything to
say.  He didn't like the plan.  It was, as Aristotle had told him,
quite dangerous.  But it was a good idea, nonetheless.  But something
was missing....

"It's all planned out, but so far we haven't been able to get any
volunteers, and I doubt that will change."

"So you're going to do this?" LaCroix asked, his tone neutral.  "Risk-
-"

"I don't want to, LaCroix!  Right now the last thing I want to do is
gather up a dozen frightened mortals into a room and calmly demand
questions from them."  Nick turned to face LaCroix.  "But unless for
some insane reason you decide to volunteer, that's what I'll have to
do.  I have been revealed.  I am the logical choice, but I'm not sure
I could do it.  But if I don't, the mortals are likely to destroy us
before anyone else volunteers!"

Stunned, particularly by his son's darker tone and faintly golden
eyes, LaCroix nearly took a step back...but Nick turned away, first.
"You hate them," he commented, and before Nick could look back,
LaCroix took the younger man by the shoulders.  "Hate is a dangerous
emotion, particularly now.  To loathe the mortals is one thing, but do
not let it control you."

Nick shrugged out of the light grip.  "So you don't approve, then."

Stiffening at the assumption, LaCroix hissed, "I neither approve nor
disapprove!"

Nick spun, saying, "Nor do you like it."

"What I don't 'like' about it is how dangerous it could prove."

Relaxing, Nick became unsure of the other's thoughts.  "But?" he
quietly asked.

"If you're going to do this, I suggest you think up whatever 'insane
reason' is going to get me to help you."

Nick's jaw dropped open as LaCroix turned and left the room, not
giving him the opportunity to reply.  He then followed LaCroix out to
the main room, where Aristotle, Nathaniel, Holly and Emily were
gathered, their attention quickly turning from their conversation to
LaCroix.

"Good to see you up, Lucius," Aristotle greeted.  Not expecting a
response, he quickly introduced Nathaniel, Holly, and Emily, seeing
LaCroix' disapproval at Nathaniel's choice of fashion and Holly's
clear fright.  When LaCroix' eyes fell back on his own, Aristotle
asked, "You didn't say how long you would be staying?"

"Not...long."  Seeing Nick approach and stop just behind him and to
the side, he smirked faintly and replied, "As long as Nicholas stays,
perhaps?"  Then, he turned and gave a smile to Nick and headed to the
kitchen.

Nick followed without a hint of hesitation, wondering what LaCroix was
implying.

Holly stood up to follow, but Nathaniel pulled her back down onto the
couch.  Emily also stood, not immediately following the other two out
as Aristotle raised his hand in a silent command for her to remain,
but her obedience lasted only seconds before she, too, left.

In the kitchen, Nick walked up to LaCroix as he poured a glass of
blood at the counter.  Leaning over the other's shoulder, he
whispered, "Am I correct that you're volunteering to help me if I do
this?"

"Perhaps," LaCroix said in a faint whisper.  He again smiled,
answering, "If you do this, I'll assist with the first task."

Nick gripped LaCroix' shoulder, leaning over even further, his lips
almost touching LaCroix' ear.  "Seriously?"

LaCroix turned, his eyes flitting to Emily peering at them across the
room.  After corking the bottle he had opened, he raised the glass to
his lips, and took a sip.  Giving a nod of affirmation to Nick, he
passed the glass to him.

The blood just under his nose, Nick was too tempted to refuse, and he
took a long drink from the glass.

LaCroix then shifted his attention to Emily.  "Yes?"

"I, ah...."

His smirk back, LaCroix headed back to the other room, his gaze
lingering on the speechless vampiress, rendering her even more
anxious.

Emily's attention shifted to Nick as he drank the remainder of the
glass and, once empty, placed it in the sink.  Still somewhat stunned
by LaCroix' departure, she barely noticed as Nick left.

Once LaCroix and Nick had returned to the other room, this time
sitting, Aristotle asked, "Nicholas did tell you of his idea, yes?"

LaCroix slowly nodded, his expression becoming completely serious,
only a faint sparkle in his eyes remaining from earlier.

"And?" Aristotle prodded.  His focus shifted momentarily toward Emily
as she re-entered, but quickly returned to LaCroix.

Keeping silent, a bit of LaCroix' smirk reappeared.

At the lack of answer, Holly crossed her arms, pushed back into the
corner of the couch, and said, "Well, I think it's stupid."

Emily stepped closer, stopping only once she was well within LaCroix'
sight.  Facing him, she asked, "You like the idea, don't you?"

LaCroix gave only a cursory glance to Emily before his gaze returned
to Aristotle.

"It is not ideal.  But, given the situation, what would be?" Aristotle
asked, then did his best to read the other's expression, continuing,
"You do like the idea, perhaps not fully, but enough to think it might
work?"

"Yes."

Aristotle leaned back, both relieved and bothered by LaCroix' opinion.
"Finding a volunteer has been difficult, as you can imagine.  Who
wants to reveal themselves?  Unfortunately, most of those with
revealed identities are dead.  And Nicholas has still yet to offer to
volunteer...."  He paused, glancing to Nick.  "Not that I blame you.
I, too, would be hesitant if I were in your position."

"But there's no choice, is there?  The only living vampires known to
the vast majority of mortals are myself, LaCroix, and Janette."
Nick's attention wandered, "And of the three of us...."

Aristotle nodded.  "You're the most 'normal' in the mortal's eyes due
to your various careers and closeness to them."  Turning his attention
to LaCroix, Aristotle said, "And no offence, LaCroix, but I think most
mortals...well, I don't think you would be an ideal ambassador given
what little has been revealed about you.  Same with Janette.  Nick's
history is at least mixed."

"When would you suggest acting on this?  When is it planned for?"
LaCroix asked.

"A planned time?"  Aristotle nearly laughed.  "There is no set time.
The IVEA has been rather silent lately and, combined with the general
curiosity and demand for answers from the public, now is the time.  A
week ago would have been even better."

"Then Nicholas will do this."

"Well, that's--"  Aristotle cut off, realising he was about to speak
theoretically but that LaCroix was speaking literally.  "Did he say
that?"  He turned to Nick, slightly surprised.  He knew Nick had
wanted to take no part in this plan if at all possible.

"I'll do it.  I don't have much choice, anyway, do I?"

Aristotle stood, eager to put things in motion but also worried that
Nick didn't actually want to do this, despite his words.  "Well, if
you're going to volunteer," he slowly started, then paused, turning
his eyes onto Nate.  After a slight pause he continued, "Then I'm
going to assign Nate to camera duty."

"Me?  I--"

"All you have to do is record Nick answering the questions.  Unless
you'd like to help him with the rest, instead?"

Nate shrunk back with a shake of his head.  He had no wish to be seen
by the mortals.  "No, I'll take the first."

As the room settled into an uneasy silence, Nick glanced toward
LaCroix, only looking back when Emily crossed the room.  "LaCroix?"

Directing his gaze away, LaCroix closed his eyes for a moment.  Then,
attention back on Aristotle, he stated, "I will help Nicholas obtain
the questions."

Aristotle narrowed his eyes.  "Are you sure?  This would certainly
increase Nick's chance of success, but--"

"But what?" LaCroix hissed, his disdain of the other questioning his
decision clear.

Stiffening, Aristotle dropped the thought right there.  If LaCroix
wanted to help, there was nothing he could do to stop that.  "Well
then, I guess we'll work a little more on pinpointing our target."
Then, looking to Nick, he said, "Not you, though.  You and LaCroix
should probably do whatever planning you two want to do ahead of
time."  With that, Aristotle urged Emily, Holly, and Nate out of the
room, starting down the hall toward Nate's room.

Once they were alone, LaCroix stood and started toward the entrance of
the apartment.

"Where are you going?"

"Out for a little night-time air....  You're free to accompany me, of
course."

"No," Nick quickly answered, tensing.  When LaCroix did the same, Nick
relaxed, elaborating, "Perhaps later.  Just...not right now, not
tonight."

LaCroix gave a faint nod, then left.

Now alone, Nick leaned back, wondering just how much work the others
needed to do.  With all the time he had spent on his own, he highly
suspected Aristotle had most of everything planned.  He knew Aristotle
had been waiting for him to give in, and now that that was done, he
just needed to keep calm.  At the moment, however, he still far
preferred LaCroix' company to any of the others.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

The following night, Aristotle again told Nick to either prepare or
rest, that he and the others would be fine without help.  Nick already
knew they had a list before the previous night and that it was mostly
just narrowing it down to the best options.  Given that they had
previously been unaware of when they would act, they were likely
rechecking to make sure their plan or the possible locations didn't
need altered.  And while he didn't have the specifics planned, he had
plenty of ideas for actually carrying it out.

Tonight, however, when LaCroix left the apartment several hours past
midnight, Nick remained only a few minutes before he also left,
discretely following the other for several blocks.

Sensing Nick approach, LaCroix whispered, "I'm surprised you chose my
company over silence, especially as we've barely spoken since before
Janette and I left Toronto."

Nick slowed as LaCroix turned to face him.

Giving his son a partial smile, LaCroix added, "Pleasantly surprised,
of course."

Accepting the added remark, Nick turned his focus back on what was
more immediately relevant.  "What do you really think of this plan,
LaCroix?  Really, truly?"

"Well, it is better than sitting and waiting."

"LaCroix--"

"Things must change, Nicholas.  Something must be done.  And the
longer we wait, the more time the mortals have to believe what they've
been told."

Narrowing his eyes, Nick pointedly asked, "Why do you care?  They're
not even that far off on your description."

LaCroix looked to the side--his gaze shifting just enough that his
eyes didn't quite meet the other's.

"You know something, don't you?"

"The mortals have spies.  I'm sure you know that."

"And?  What of it?"

This time, LaCroix turned completely away.

"LaCroix, please."

"Your partner.  Your detective friend--"

"Schanke was no spy."

"No.  No, he is no spy."  LaCroix then turned back, continuing in a
whisper, "But the Detective he is now paired with is.  I am certain of
it."

"Then he's in danger."

"He has been warned.  And I do not believe he is in any danger."

"You warned him?" Nick asked, suspicious.

"Yes.  I thought it wise after the man made eye contact with me,
clearly recognising both who and what I am, and then did nothing.
It's a game to him."

"They know more about us, don't they?  They're close to being able to
track us."

"Likely.  A week ago, I caught a mortal tailing me.  Fortunately, the
mortal's mind was weak.  And unfortunately, yes, I believe they have
been tracking you.  They're slightly behind, but they'll link you and
the others."

"You came to tell Aristotle--"

"I came to retrieve you," LaCroix corrected.  "And, yes, to suggest to
Aristotle that he and the others split into smaller groups."

Nick averted his eyes.  LaCroix had volunteered purposely, likely for
one reason only--to retrieve him, as he had stated.  Not that it
really mattered.  It just gave more reason to not waste any more time.

Walking over to Nick, LaCroix stopped at his son's side and
delightedly mentioned, "Remember what it was like having mortals
hunting us, only to hunt them in return?"

For a moment, Nick did remember.  But the thoughts quickly halted.
"We can't hunt them, LaCroix.  You know that."

LaCroix laughed.  "Taking the fun away, as usual...."  Then, more
seriously, he nodded and commented, "We can't hunt them, but we'll be
better at avoiding them than they'll expect, won't we, Nicholas?"

Nick turned his head to the side.  "Perhaps."

"Good."  Starting away, LaCroix took several steps and then asked,
"Has Aristotle mentioned how long he needed to finish the initial
plans?"

"No," Nick answered, not turning back to look at LaCroix.  "But...I
did hear them talking.  I think they're picking between a few
different locations."

"And?" LaCroix prodded, his voice tainted with anger.  "Is that all
they're deciding?"

"I could be wrong.  Yet any specific plans I think are our
responsibility.  Other than picking a location, I don't know what more
they would need to...."  Seeing LaCroix move away out of the corner of
his eye, Nick called after him to wait, but LaCroix was already
heading back to the apartment.

Nick followed LaCroix, catching up to the other just at the apartment
door.  "LaCroix--"

"Wouldn't you prefer to get this started?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"I am merely going to ask how much longer we must wait."

Nick remained at the door as LaCroix entered.  For just a moment, he
had the impression that LaCroix didn't feel safe here.  Could the
mortals be that close to tracking one of them?  Is that why LaCroix
wanted them away from here so quickly?  Were they closer than LaCroix
implied?

Nick slowly entered and waited for LaCroix to return.  But it was
Aristotle that left first.

"We'll have a target picked by tonight, LaCroix.  It's not as simple
as picking at random.  We need a building that will be easy for you
and Nick to round up all of the mortals...yet easy for you two to get
out of.  And it's not just a matter of location, but time.  You don't
want to go in there when there's too many mortals, nor too few."

"Just don't wait until it's too late."

"Too late?" Aristotle asked, curious as to what this was from.

When Aristotle looked toward him, Nick explained, "LaCroix thinks the
mortals are close to finding us."

"Really?"  Looking from Nick to LaCroix, and eventually settling on
LaCroix, Aristotle demanded, "Are you serious, LaCroix?"

"Aren't I always?"

"Well, I suppose it's best to err on the side of caution, hmm?"
Despite LaCroix' almost jesting tone, Aristotle was visibly losing his
calm.  Then, more seriously, Aristotle stated, "You're planning to
leave as soon as possible."

"Yes."

"With Nick?"

"Of course."

Aristotle glanced at Nick, who seemed completely unfazed.  Preparing
to return back down the hall, Aristotle looked back to LaCroix for
just a moment, telling him, "It'll still be tonight, LaCroix.  And by
tonight, I mean sunset."

Once they were alone in the room, LaCroix joked, "You don't seem too
enthusiastic, Nicholas."

"Why should I be?  This might not even work.  And even it if does, it
could backfire and not do any good."  Nick closed his eyes, pausing.
Then, he told LaCroix, "If we're leaving tomorrow night, I'm going to
bed," and left.


Downward Spiral - (14/27)

Two nights later, in a random hotel along a minor highway, LaCroix
woke suddenly at the sound of a piece of paper being flipped over.  He
sat up and turned to find Nick looking through the file Aristotle had
given them the previous evening.  Closing his eyes for a moment,
LaCroix asked, "Picked a location yet, Nicholas?"

Nick snapped his attention toward LaCroix, startled that the other was
awake.  Without speaking, he took the page he was looking at and
handed it toward the other.

Taking the sheet of paper, LaCroix immediately focused on the location
listed above a rough schematic of a building: Detroit.  "And the other
options?"

"Vancouver and Portland."

"Portland...?"

"Oregon."

"And Detroit because?"

"The building has more exits than the others and less security."

LaCroix' eyes narrowed, aware there had to be more.  "Both Portland
and Vancouver are on the West Coast, mere hours from here.  Detroit is
more than a day's travel.  It's because it's closer to Toronto.  You
cannot return there, Nicholas.  You know that."

"I can return to Toronto whenever I wish, LaCroix.  But I've already
stated my reasons for choosing Detroit.  It's a better target.  And,
yes, it's closer to Toronto and as such, possibly, we will be less
suspected."  Nick took the pages on the other two stations and shoved
them toward LaCroix.  "Here.  Compare them and tell me which target
you would prefer."

LaCroix was somewhat surprised at the abruptness, but took the sheets.
Glancing through each page, including the one the other had already
given him, he carefully compared the three.  Vancouver, British
Columbia, was a close second, hindered by the poor layout of the
building and the note of 'increased probability of interruptions'.
Portland, Oregon, was in fact neither Portland nor Oregon, but instead
Vancouver, Washington.  And while otherwise optimal, the increased
security in the building, specifically an on-site security guard
watching the cameras, made the station the least appealing.  The small
station in Detroit had both lax security and a good layout--and a note
about being predictable.

"And?"

LaCroix sat the pages on the bed next to him, nodding slightly.
"Detroit would be the simplest."

Nick pulled another page out of the folder and passed it to LaCroix.

Seeing that the sheet detailed the number of people in the building at
various times throughout the night, LaCroix once again narrowed his
eyes.

"Aristotle had the stations watched for several weeks."

About to ask how Nick knew that, LaCroix' gaze caught on an asterisk
by 12:45 a.m. and then spotted the other asterisk a bit above the
bottom of the page and read the note to himself:

"Best time, usually between eight and twelve mortals in the building. 
Least possibility of an interruption.  Tuesday nights are the most
predictable."

LaCroix turned back to his son.  "You've already made plans, haven't
you?"

Nick stiffened.  "Yes."

"And you plan for us to go to Toronto after we leave Detroit."

"Yes," Nick whispered, quickly averting his gaze.

Separating the pages and handing the non-relevant pages back, LaCroix
simply said, "Burn them, and then we will leave."

Still tense, Nick watched as LaCroix calmly stood and crossed the
room, pulled on his jacket and straightened his clothes.  He stood up,
nearly taking a step forward but stopping.  "You...have no
objections?"

"Toronto is no worse a choice than any other city.  If you wish to
risk--"

"Schanke will be in no danger unless we draw attention to our presence
there!"

"I said nothing about endangering your partner!  But we will not be
able to stay long, if at all.  It is dangerous for us."

"We won't be expected to go to Toronto.  And it will only be until we
need to leave to meet Nathaniel."

LaCroix took the pages he didn't give Nick, neatly folded them, and
put them in his inside jacket pocket.  "Destroy the rest of the
papers, Nicholas.  If we are to be in Detroit by midnight Tuesday, we
should leave now."

After a few seconds, Nick nodded.  LaCroix was right in that they
needed to leave now.  It was Sunday night and they had a little less
than 48 hours to reach their destination.  Doable, but it would be
tiring.

Walking to the hotel room's door, LaCroix turned back and told Nick,
"I will ensure that our presence here has gone unnoticed, and then I
will wait for you.  Do not linger long."

As soon as LaCroix left, Nick turned his gaze to the sheets of paper
in his hand.  LaCroix had practically accepted his decision with
barely a hint of argument.  But then, what other choice did LaCroix
have?

Nick stiffened and closed his eyes, focusing on the calm and
controlled energy that faded as LaCroix' presence moved further away. 
His eyes snapped open, realising the other's thoughts mirrored his
own; they both felt helpless to this.  LaCroix wanted this done with. 
And so did he.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

As a woman finished cleaning up her work area at a lightboard, Nick
and LaCroix slid into a shadow a short distance away.  They had
already found the briefing room and prepared it, leaving a stack of
paper and a box of pens--both fresh out of the station's front desk--
in the centre of the table.  All that was needed was a messenger.

Looking to LaCroix, Nick received a nod.  As soon as the woman had
finished and headed for the hall, Nick grabbed her from behind,
covering her mouth to prevent her from screaming.

LaCroix then stepped out into the open, at which the woman struggled
harder.  Lips twisting into a smile, LaCroix locked his gaze with the
mortal's.  "Know that you will not be harmed."  Stepping closer, his
voice softened as he intoned, "*There is nothing to be frightened of. 
You will relax.  Nothing to be afraid of....*"

Feeling the woman relax, Nick slowly released his grip.  When the
mortal stood still, dazed by LaCroix' words, Nick saw LaCroix' mood
brighten ever so slightly.

"*Now, you will listen very carefully to my voice....  Listen and
commit to memory.  The producer called the station.  He is on his way
over for a short meeting.  You are to tell your co-workers to meet in
the briefing room at ten till one.*"

The woman's lips moved faintly, but she didn't speak.

"*What are you to do?*"

"The producer called a meeting...."

"*Yes.  You just spoke to him.  Gather the others.*"  LaCroix turned
the woman around by the shoulders and whispered into her ear, "*You
didn't see anyone in the building.  All that's on your mind is the
call you just received and the meeting you'll be going to.  Nothing
more.  Now go.*"  LaCroix gave her a light push on the back, and he
and Nick headed in the other direction, to the briefing room.

They both entered the dark room, quickly finding cover behind a
partition.

"We can still leave, Nicholas."

Nick closed his eyes and shook his head.  "No.  No, we're here.  It'll
take a whole fifteen minutes.  Let's just get it over with."  Nick
looked down at his watch, and he could just make out the time: 12:40. 
They still had ten minutes.  He leaned back against the wall only to
stiffen a few seconds later as the door opened and the room's lights
snapped on.

Over the next ten minutes seven more mortals entered the room, each
sitting at the table, talking quietly among themselves.  Eventually,
the conversation turned to what the meeting was going to be about.

Two minutes past their set time, Nick met LaCroix' gaze for a second,
then headed out into the open.

Conversation stopped immediately.  Everyone sitting at the table
reacted in some way, fear the dominating emotion.  One man stood and
two others made to do the same, but stopped at scooting their chairs
back.  The other five sat in various states of fright.

Nick slowly walked toward the table.  "You all know who and what I am,
yes?" he asked, his voice controlled and even, almost harsh.

The man that had stood up immediately asked, "What are you going to do
with us?"

"First, sit down," Nick said, the instruction directed solely at the
one who questioned him.

The man shook his head.  "I know what you are, what you have done."

"You know nothing about me," Nick responded, his anger rising and
making itself present in his tone as he nearly hissed the words at the
mortal.

"I would do as Nicholas has asked," LaCroix spoke, stepping up behind
Nick, his gaze locked on the mortal who had spoken.  When the man sat
down, LaCroix continued, adding, "We are not here to be accused."

"You called this meeting," said the woman that LaCroix had earlier
influenced.

"Yes," Nick answered.  He nodded to the centre of the table, where the
pens and paper sat.  "You have until one o'clock to write down any
questions you have about my kind."

At that, several hands reached toward the items in the centre.

"Anything about vampires?" another woman asked as the others started
writing.

"Yes.  Anything about what we are and what is happening.  I'll tell
you now that not everything the news has reported is accurate or, in
some cases, even correct."

For a moment, the only noise was the scratching of pen on paper.
Then, the same woman that had asked the last question cautiously
asked, "Is there anything we can't ask?"

Nick didn't immediately answer, closing his eyes for a second.  As he
heard others stop writing as well, apparently curious of the answer,
Nick told them, "Personal questions will more than likely go
unanswered."

"You have three minutes," LaCroix said, turning the mortal's attention
back to the pieces of paper in front of them.

At one o'clock, LaCroix walked up to the closest mortal, hand
outstretched to take the piece of paper sitting before them.  After a
second, it was handed to him, at which he went on, silently, to the
next mortal.

As LaCroix continued counter-clockwise around the table, Nick told
them, "Ask what questions you want now.  I'm sure you're curious why
we're doing this."

"What do you want the questions for?"

"To answer, of course," LaCroix responded.

Shooting a glance at LaCroix' for the reply, Nick explained, "We will
try to answer at least three questions from each of you."

"Now?"

"No.  It is too dangerous for us to linger, even here.  The answers
will be recorded on a video tape and distributed."

"When, how?"

"I can't say.  But it will most likely be within the next few weeks."

"Will we receive one of the copies?"

Nick paused.  He couldn't answer this question, one way or the other,
and so he simply replied, "Perhaps, and perhaps not."

The information seemed to satisfy those present, and as LaCroix
collected the last sheet, the two headed toward the room's exit.

"What about questions of curiosity?"

Before either Nick or LaCroix had a chance to answer, another half-
blurted, "Did you kill her?" at which all movement at the table
stopped.

Nick froze solid, his gaze quickly shifting to the mortal that had
asked the last question.  He relaxed slightly when he saw that the
man's face held far more interest and far less malice than he had
expected.  Even so, Nick barely kept his eyes from turning, the topic
not something he wished to talk about to these strangers.  Flatly, he
told the mortal, "No, I did not."  Then, after a few silent seconds,
Nick left with LaCroix following closely behind him, no further
questions being asked as they departed.  Nor did any of the mortals
attempt to follow them.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

As the sun rose, Nick and LaCroix just barely arrived in Toronto and
made it to the Schanke residence.  Going to the back door, the rising
sun cast their shadows against the house and burnt their exposed skin.
Nick paused only a few short moments before he forcibly twisted the
knob, breaking the lock, and he and LaCroix cautiously entered.

The house seemed silent, but Nick slowed as he smelt coffee brewing in
the kitchen.  Turning to LaCroix, he whispered, "Let me talk to Myra
first."  He waited only a few seconds before heading toward the
heartbeat heading toward them.

Nick caught Myra just as she left the main hall, grabbing her from
behind much like he did the woman at the station earlier that night.
"Don't be frightened," he said, and then released her.

"Nick?" Myra asked as she turned around, watching him turn away.
"How...I mean, the sun came up a few minutes--"  She cut off as Nick
looked right at her and she saw small burns on the right side of his
face.

"We need a place to stay, at least for the day.  Come nightfall you
can kick us out if you don't want us here."

"Are you in danger?  Is someone--"

"We need a place to rest, that is all," LaCroix said.

Myra spun at the icy voice, her eyes widening upon seeing the other
man, the other vampire.  She noticed similar burns on his face as
well.

"You'll know plenty when the morning news comes on," LaCroix told her,
managing a slight smirk.

Nick stepped up behind Myra, sensing her fear through her quickening
heartbeat.  "We came here because we can't risk being found."
Unintentionally, Nick moved closer, closing his eyes.  A wave of
weakness travelled through him and he took a step away, his eyes
snapping open.  As his hand touched the wall, Nick felt calm from the
cool and solid surface, at which he leaned against it.  "Please, Myra,
we need to rest."

Turning back to face Nick, Myra's pulse shot up further upon seeing
his golden eyes.  She nearly spoke, but instead gasped feeling hands
on her shoulders.

"We may stay, yes?" LaCroix demanded, whispering into the mortal's
ear.

"Y-yes, of course," Myra told him, turning to find another pair of
golden eyes.  "Is there anything I can do to help--"

"We will be fine," LaCroix softly stated as he walked by Myra.  Taking
Nick by the arm, he turned the younger toward the hall and quietly
asked, "Where?"

Nick didn't answer, he merely headed down the hall to the spare
bedroom he had stayed in before.

Myra followed, but stopped after they entered the room and shut the
door, making it clear she wasn't to follow.


Downward Spiral - (15/27)

As soon as Schanke arrived home, he flipped the television on.  He had
heard, vaguely, that Nick had done something in Detroit...but hadn't
yet figured out what, exactly.  The radio on the way home hadn't been
too helpful, other than to tell him information on what happened was
slowly filtering down and that Nick--and LaCroix--had popped up at a
Detroit news station.

As local news wasn't on, Schanke flipped to a cable news channel and
stared blankly at the unflattering photos displayed of Nick and
LaCroix up one side of the screen as the reporter spoke:

"-Brabant and Lucien LaCroix showed themselves at KLEW, a local
station in Detroit, Michigan.  Earlier this morning Lisa May was on
site with Martin Ledbetter, one of the station employees in the
building at the time."

Schanke watched the screen switch to a woman and a man, sitting in
what looked like a large briefing room.

"You said this was completely unsuspected?"

"Well, it was odd to have a meeting at almost one in the morning, but
not unheard of.  We had no idea anything was wrong until one of them
stepped out into the open."

"What happened, exactly?"

"Well, we came here, for a meeting, expecting the producer's arrival. 
Just after we were supposed to be there, Knight...  Brabant...he comes
out into the open.  And then the other followed a moment later.
Brabant told us to write down what questions we had about vampires.
After a few minutes they took the sheets.  They said they'd be making
a tape with answers.  They were here ten, maybe fifteen minutes."

"And their demeanour?"

"Well, they were a bit...distant and almost harsh.  They looked weary,
and paler than any of the photos I've seen of them.  Reminded me how I
get after I've pulled several long shifts; drained of energy and a bit
easy to irritate."

"Are you saying they seemed dangerous?"

"Ah, well...no," the man said, shaking his head somewhat slowly.  I
mean, yeah, maybe they were on-edge, but, no, I wouldn't actually say
they were dangerous."

Schanke's eyes had by now widened slightly.  Dangerous?  Was that what
they were trying to call Nick?  The screen flipped back to the other
reporter, who continued:

"The employees all have similar relations of events, all conveying a
sense of tenseness and distrust in the two vampires.  The IVEA is
looking for both Brabant and LaCroix for--"

Schanke switched off the television.  He knew what they wanted to find
Nick and LaCroix for--to kill them before they could follow through
with this.

"Don?"

Schanke turned to his wife, for a second, then wasting no time before
venting about the news he told her, "Why can't they just wait and see
what's going to happen?  And why does everyone seem to try and put a
negative spin on Nick and them?  Maybe once they get their side out
things will start going better."  He stared at the blank television
screen for several seconds, then mused aloud, "I hope Nick's thought
this through; hope he's okay."

"I'm not sure he is."

"What?" Schanke asked, turning sharply back toward Myra as she
approached.  Then, he raised the hand he held the remote in, asking,
"What else did they say?"

"No, it's nothing that's been on the news.  Nick, he's here," Myra
said, taking the remote.  "He and the other man, LaCroix, got here
just after dawn.  They're in the spare bedroom."

Schanke didn't move for nearly a minute, his mind trying to wrap
itself around what Myra had just told him.  Nick, who he honestly
never expected to see again, was back, here, in his home?  Then,
Schanke started for the hall, but only took a step when he felt Myra's
hand on his arm.

"Take care.  Perhaps let them sleep?"

"Why?  What--"

"Don't worry, nothing happened.  But, like I said, I'm not sure Nick's
really okay.  And they both looked unwell.  They are quite pale
and...." Myra paused a few seconds, then finished, "And they both had
slight burns.  They said they needed rest, and they haven't had much
time to--" Myra halted mid-sentence when her husband broke away and
headed for the hall anyway, fully aware that if he wanted to check on
Nick she couldn't stop him.

Schanke reached the door to the spare room in seconds, but paused
outside the door.  Would he wake Nick?  Or just check, to see that he
was really there?  And LaCroix...he didn't particularly like the idea
of having LaCroix in his home for some reason.  Seeing Myra approach,
he turned toward her.

"Jenny, she left for a friend's just a few minutes ago.  I...told her
she could stay out until dinner.  She doesn't know they're here yet."

Nodding absently, Schanke reached out for the doorknob and, quietly,
entered the room.  He pushed the door closed but for a small crack and
paused as his eyes adjusted to the dark room.

On the bed were Nick and LaCroix.  The latter seemed calm; lying on
his back, sound asleep.  Nick looked less comfortable as he lay mostly
on his stomach, his body seeming tense.

Schanke nearly turned and left, but seeing Nick shift slightly he
decided to approach.  After all, if Nick was already nearly awake....

Reaching out to gently wake Nick, Schanke snatched his hand back when
Nick opened his eyes.  A few seconds passed where neither of them made
any movement.  "Nick?" Schanke whispered.  "You awake?"

Nick closed his eyes at the question.  He hadn't slept at all since he
and LaCroix had arrived at Schanke's.  He thought he would fall right
to sleep, but he had already been waiting to do just that for more
than two hours.

"Nick?" Schanke again prodded, moving a little closer.

"I'm awake," Nick replied, shifting onto his side and then slowly
sitting up.

Schanke's attention darted past Nick upon seeing the other vampire
move, likely woken by Nick's movement.  Quickly, he focused back on
Nick and quickly realised Nick looked exhausted.  "You...look like you
haven't slept."

"I don't think I have."

"I can, ah, go if you'd prefer to get some sleep?"

"No, I'm up."  Nick went to stand, but halted his attempt and closed
his eyes almost immediately.  He sat for a little longer, glad Schanke
hadn't yet said anything more.  And then he tried again, this time
standing, albeit a bit unsteadily at first.  Nick gave a quick glance
to Schanke before heading out of the room.  He paused upon seeing
Myra, instinctively looking away as their eyes met.

Concerned when Nick stopped, Schanke asked, "Is something wrong?"

"No."  Glancing back at Schanke, Nick repeated, "No, nothing's wrong,"
and then continued into the main living area.  Silently, he went to
the windows and pulled the drapes shut, darkening the room
significantly.

Schanke slowly followed Nick.  Despite the other's answer, he knew
something was up.  Nick seemed different.  It was more than just the
outward hint of tiredness; Nick's whole movement was off.  And then it
hit him.  Nick was acting more like when they first became partners.
He was wary and guarded.  Granted, Nick had never lost those
qualities, but his manner seemed almost unfriendly, cold, and that was
something he hadn't seen in a while.

"We can leave as soon as the sun sets."

"Nick--"

"I heard the news earlier, before you got back.  They're looking for
us."

"But they couldn't have traced you here, right?" Schanke asked,
knowing it was unlikely.  "You and LaCroix came straight here, yes?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then they have no reason to think you are here.  But if you leave,
there's a greater chance of them finding you, right?  I'd think that
right now you wouldn't want to be found.  And they're going to look
hard, especially if they can stop your plan."

"Being here endangers your family, Schanke.  Your wish for us to stay
isn't enough."

"What about mine?" Myra asked, approaching Nick from the side.  "I
agree with Don.  If you haven't been traced here, we're in no more
danger than if you weren't here.  Less, perhaps, given what you are."

Nick spun toward the voice, but didn't have an immediate response.

"You came here because you thought it was the best option, right?"
Myra continued, stepping closer.  "If you want to stay, Nick, please
do.  Don't feel that you have to leave."

Closing his eyes, Nick looked away.  Although deep down he wanted to
turn down the offer, he also knew here was the safest place to be
right now.  Seeing Myra moving closer, Nick sidestepped as she reached
out a hand toward him.

"I'm sorry, I just--" Myra stiffened when Nick turned toward her, his
icy gaze making her take a step back.  "I should leave you two to
talk."  Myra moved away, her gaze alternating between them.  "I'll be
in the kitchen."

"Myra, could you maybe bring me a cup of coffee?"

Myra nodded and then, just as she turned to leave, she saw Nick shift
and look like he wanted to say something.

Schanke also noticed Nick wavering between keeping silent and not.
"Nick?"

"I could maybe use something to drink?" he asked, uncertainly.

"How about some water?" Myra asked.  "I'd bring you some coffee, but
I'm guessing water would be better?"

"Water would be fine."

Forcing a smile, Myra turned and headed to the kitchen.

Schanke held back, watching Nick's attention stray.  When Nick slowly
took a few steps forward, toward the couch, and then sat down, Schanke
finally asked, "You haven't, ah, fed recently, have you?  Is that even
the right term?  I've, well, never even seen you drink water before or
ask for it.  You dehydrated or, well, hungry enough that you can drink
water?"

Nick ignored most of Schanke's rambling.  In truth, he had no
particular want for the water, but it might preoccupy his hunger for a
little.  "Something like that."

"Come on, Nick, you can at least tell me how you are, right?"

Meeting Schanke's gaze fully, Nick told the other, "Blood isn't
exactly easy to come by, Schanke.  And, frankly, I haven't been
feeling very hungry."

"So you're not getting enough blood."

"That, and travelling is...taxing.  I mean, we can't exactly travel by
normal means.  We'd be spotted.  Flying takes energy."  Eyes drifting
to the floor, Nick added, "And sometimes sleep doesn't come easy."

Schanke absently nodded his head.  "It adds up."

Nick silently echoed Schanke's nod.  When Myra approached from the
kitchen a couple of minutes later, Nick stiffened but managed to
mutter, "Thanks," as she sat a glass of cold water down on the table
along with a mug of coffee.

Schanke cautiously approached Nick and sat on the couch.  He was about
to ask Nick a question, but stopped when Nick picked up the remote for
the TV and switched it on.

The news came up, the newscaster reporting:

"The IVEA has traced two unnamed vampires from the Los Angeles area to
Colorado.  It is believed that they, along with Brabant, LaCroix, and
at least two others, were behind the plans for the disruption last
night in Detroit."

Nick immediately turned his gaze down as he quickly hit the mute
button.  He kept his eyes away from the screen for several seconds, at
which he reached for the glass of water and drank a large gulp of the
clear liquid with a cringe.  His eyes glancing back up to the news,
Nick turned the volume back on as a dark image flashed on the screen
with two familiar figures--Holly and Aristotle--the latter's face
clearly visible.

"Information on this man is being sought.  Both he and the young woman
seen with him are suspected vampires and should not be approached.
They were last seen two nights ago in New Mexico and are believed to
be heading east.  They are suspected to be the other two vampires
aiding Brabant and are believed to be planning to meet up with--"

Nick, who had tensed considerably, shut the television off and took
another large drink from his water.  He didn't need to hear the rest.

Ignoring his coffee, Schanke watched Nick drink the rest of the water
in a single gulp with astonishment.  Schanke couldn't ignore the ashen
tone Nick now had to his skin, but wasn't sure if it was the water,
the news, or both that caused it.  With care, Schanke quietly asked,
"You recognised them, didn't you?  They, the IVEA that is, they're on
to something."  Watching Nick tense, Schanke abruptly and nervously
added, "You don't have to answer.  It's just--"

"It's fine," Nick half-hissed, then relaxed, turning to Schanke
apologetically.  "I...should probably tell you, actually."  Nick
turned away, whispering, "With Aristotle being discovered, this
becomes more dangerous."

"Aristotle?"

"The man in the picture they showed.  Aristotle knows I was hoping to
come here, to you.  I don't know if he'll try contacting me or not.
If so, it will most likely be through you."

"He was working with you, wasn't he?  Like they suspect."

"I've been travelling with him and three others the last couple of
months."

"So, him, the woman, LaCroix and Janette?"

"No.  No, I left them to go with Aristotle.  Until a few days ago, I
hadn't seen LaCroix.  And Janette?  I have no idea where Janette is.
Aristotle...he was working with three younger vampires I didn't know."

"He's not, well, you know...."

"What?"

"Well, Aristotle.  You know, the real one--not to say your friend
isn't real--but he's not that Aristotle, right?"

"No, he's not," Nick answered, almost managing a smile.  "Actually, he
usually keeps a low-profile.  He's good at it.  It was, and still is,
his, ah, expertise."

Schanke tensed, seeing Nick's carefully hidden concern.  "If he's been
found--"

"If he's been found--or worse, if any of his records have been found--
my kind are very much in trouble."

"Records?  What kind of records?  So, what, he's some kind of vampire
record keeper?" Schanke half-joked, but kept his tone calm and
curious.

"Yes."

"Yes?"  Schanke's eyes went a bit wide.  "Records....  Wait a second,
you said he's good at keeping a low-profile...so he helps to keep your
kind off the radar?"

"Something like that."

Schanke paused, letting his thoughts multiply at Nick's answer.
Clearly, Nick didn't want to talk about it.  "So, ah, well, are you
meeting with him like they think?"

Nick shook his head.  "No."

"You're meeting the other two."

Nick sharply turned to face Schanke, initially a bit surprised by the
guess.  "Yes.  However; this has become significantly more dangerous."
Nick stood up, starting to pace almost immediately.

Watching Nick's slow but increasingly anxious steps, Schanke prodded,
"Is this going to change what you're doing?"

Mid-step, Nick stopped.  Turning to Schanke, he whispered, "I don't
know.  I'll have to talk to LaCroix tonight."

"You going to try and get some sleep?"

Nick stopped just shy of leaving the room and looked back.  Not
answering Schanke's question, Nick told him, "You'll have to tell
Jenny we're here before tonight and make sure she says nothing."

"She still remembers you being here, Nick.  Whatever Janette did, it
didn't work.  Jenny told us a couple of weeks after you left."

Nick stiffened.  If Jenny was a resistor, then he and LaCroix would
have to watch what they said around her.  "Then make sure she knows of
LaCroix' lack of patience."  Not giving Schanke the opportunity to
respond, Nick returned back to the bedroom.

Schanke sat, his eyes falling on his now cold cup of coffee.  Nick was
in more trouble than he had planned.  Seeing a shadow approaching on
the floor, he looked up to find Myra bringing him another cup of
coffee and slowly shook his head.  "I shouldn't.  I should probably
get to bed in case Nick--"

"Trust me, you'll want it."

"Why?" he asked, taking the mug from her.

"Well, the lock for the back door is broken, so...."

"Broken?  It was fine last night.  How did--"  And then it hit him:
Nick.  "Oh.  Never mind.  Yeah, more coffee would be good."


Downward Spiral - (16/27)

Nick followed LaCroix out of the Toronto Metro area until lights were
fewer and further in-between.  They eventually headed to the ground,
at which LaCroix then started quickly toward a dark house on foot.

Nick closed his eyes, but reopened them after instinctively stepping
closer from hunger.  His attention immediately locked onto the handful
of heartbeats coming from inside--two dogs and a mortal.  In seconds,
he had passed LaCroix.  In a few more seconds, both he and LaCroix
were inside the house.

LaCroix flinched at the state of the home's interior.  The mortal who
lived here either didn't care what others thought of the house or
lived alone and had no reason to care.  LaCroix headed straight to the
mortal, expecting Nick to be right behind him.  He heard the dogs for
mere seconds--first alert and alarmed, then a whimper, more barking,
another whimper, and then nothing.  By then, the mortal was awake and
approaching to investigate.

When a middle-aged woman stepped into the hall, LaCroix snatched her
before she even saw him, biting her on the neck in an instant.  Next
thing he knew, however, he was being pushed back and Nick brutally
started draining the woman.  "Nicholas!" he hissed, but it did nothing
to stop the other.  He hadn't even taken enough blood to kill the
woman, and he was so stunned that Nick had pushed him away that he
barely noticed her heartbeat fade.

LaCroix had stepped back despite his want for blood being more enticed
than satiated.  He let Nick drain her completely, fully aware that his
son needed the blood far more than he.

When Nick dropped the woman, LaCroix slowly shifted to the other side
of the body, his eyes not leaving Nick.  "Nicholas--"

"Don't say a word, LaCroix!" Nick hissed, barring his fangs at the
other and heading out of the house.

LaCroix stiffened, but otherwise didn't react.  Alone in the house, he
did what he could to cover the bite marks, slashing the wounds with a
knife in the woman's kitchen.  Going to the other room, he found the
two dogs, both drained.  He knelt and did the same to their bite
wounds, stabbing the knife into one of the animals.  He paused for a
moment, still somewhat surprised by his son's actions.  He wiped the
handle free of his fingerprints as a precaution, although he suspected
it didn't matter.  She would certainly be found, and a trained eye
would undoubtedly be able to tell it was a vampire...but likely not
bother to find the specific vampire.

Going outside to where his son stood waiting, LaCroix' eyes shifted to
the torn fabric of Nick's jacket arm.  When the other didn't
acknowledge his presence, he teasingly told Nick, "I see you'll need
some new clothes before we head back."

Nick calmed and glanced to his torn sleeve, twisting his arm a bit.
The fabric of both his jacket and shirt were slightly stained with his
blood where the second dog had bit him and hung on.

"Come, Nicholas.  At this rate the night will be half-over before we
return to your mortal friend's home."  LaCroix left, heading toward
the city.

Nick stayed firmly on the ground, not even reacting to the other's
departure.  Despite what he had done, he felt oddly calm.  He knew it
was mainly from having truly fed, for the first time in weeks.  But
would he feel the same when Schanke asked what they had done that
night?  And if Schanke noticed he was stronger, what reason would he
give?  He couldn't say anything.  It was better for Schanke to suspect
whatever he wanted than be told what he and LaCroix actually did.

But first thing was first--he did need new clothes.  And not just
because of the dogs.  He needed new, clean clothes for taping the
questions and answers.  Instinctively stiffening, Nick headed to catch
up with LaCroix.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Sitting at the Schankes' dining table well past midnight, the rest of
the house silent, Nick flipped through the pages of questions without
really looking at them.  He couldn't focus when he knew LaCroix would
be arriving any moment.  And they hadn't yet discussed which questions
they would choose, not even a way to narrow them down.  Right now,
everything was just blurring together, the word 'vampire' the only
thing that seemed to stick in his thoughts.

"Nicholas?"

Nick snapped his attention up to LaCroix, but then slowly started to
relax.  "You took your time," Nick mentioned, looking back down at the
sheets of paper, shuffling them slightly.

"I had to ensure little attention would be drawn."  Watching the other
stiffen, LaCroix continued, "It took time to find a target.  Stray
dogs are not to my taste, but it'll make up for your...enthusiasm
earlier."

Nick didn't look up, merely staring more intently at the pieces of
paper.

"You seem preoccupied."

Leaning back, Nick let out a breath.  "Remember when you woke and I
told you we might have a problem?"  Only pausing until he saw a faint
nod from LaCroix, Nick said, "The news yesterday morning had a photo
of Aristotle and Holly.  No names, just the photo and where they were
seen.  And they knew we were in Los Angeles working with others.
Contacting Aristotle isn't an option.  And Nate and Emily--"

"If Aristotle is being traced, then they are either already discovered
or will be."

"Exactly.  Which means we can't meet with Nate as planned.  We could
end up walking into a trap."  Pushing the rough pile across the table
toward LaCroix, Nick told him, "I guess first we should narrow this
down."

LaCroix nodded.  "An alternate plan can wait until morning, after the
news."  Sitting at the table, LaCroix pulled the top-most paper
closer.  "I see you've already started."

"I...crossed a few of the questions out."

Scanning the pages, LaCroix read off a few of the scribbled out
questions, "'Did you kill Dr. Lambert?  When was the last time you
killed?  Are vampires real?'  Hmm.  Yes, I see they didn't quite
listen, did they?"  LaCroix put the sheets down, muttering, "Are
vampires real?"  He lightly laughed.  "Really...."

Nick pulled several of the pages back, and he and LaCroix worked on
narrowing down the number of questions.  Given that over half of the
pages had more than a dozen curiosities--most of which hadn't yet been
crossed out--they had more than enough to choose from.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Come morning, Nick and LaCroix had done little more than scribble in
the margins short opinions--either 'yes', 'no', 'maybe', or a close
variation.  Few questions had been given an instant 'yes'.

Eventually, Nick dropped his pen on the table, pushed his chair back,
and stood up.  "This isn't working, LaCroix.  Too many are hitting in
the middle."

"Several are repeated...."

"Yes, but we've already added most of those in.  And while we're close
to three from each, if we leave it at three we'll be seen as having a
bias."

"Isn't that the point?" LaCroix snapped, his waning patience showing.

"Yes, it's the point.  But we need to be as unbiased as possible.  We
need to contrast with what's been said about us without lying or
watering it down.  We need to come across as sincerely attempting to
answer, and not avoiding any topics."

"We're not avoid-"

"Yes we are.  Look at the sheets.  Look at the lower ranked questions.
Namely anything that hasn't been starred for inclusion."

Not seeing the point, LaCroix merely glanced at the sheets, absently
noting, "Most of the questions one of us has marked off as being
unsuitable."

"Look at them, LaCroix.  You're knocking off any questions that
elaborate any kind of weakness and I'm avoiding questions that I don't
want to answer.  We are being unintentionally biased.  While it
doesn't seem biased to us, it will to the mortals."  Nick leaned
forward, gathering up the papers and putting them in a neat stack in
the centre of the table.  "I'm going to ask Schanke if he'd mind
helping a bit."

"Unbiased indeed...."

"He's mortal.  He probably has a better gauge of what questions are
best to answer; which ones need to be answered regardless of our
preference."  Nick turned and headed out of the dining area.

"You plan to ask him about facilitating the rest of this."

Nick stopped.  Glancing back, just for a second, he replied,
"Perhaps," and then walked out of sight.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"I've never much liked Enforcers," Aristotle began, making a beeline
for a younger-looking vampire a good head taller than he.  Two others
glared at him, but stayed out of his way when the other motioned for
them not to interfere.  "And while you seem to be overall incompetent
when it comes to the present situation, you have--"

"You will reveal our location by coming here!"

"The mortals have not followed me!  I have taken great care in that
regard."

"You and Nicholas have done more than enough damage."

"Damage?  It's the mortals that are doing the damage.  And you're just
letting them."  Aristotle circled the other, watching his nervousness
just barely surface.  "LaCroix was right.  Your numbers are dwindling
as the mortals hunt you."

"How did you find us?"

"By tailing the Enforcer you had following us!  I wouldn't be
surprised if they were the one that tipped us off to the mortals.  He
apparently lost track of me after this morning's incident and decided
to return here."  Aristotle glanced at one of the others--specifically
the man he had followed--but only for a moment.

"Fine," hissed the vampire Aristotle had initially addressed.  "What
do you want from us?"

"I want to know where Nicholas and LaCroix are.  Did they make it
safely to Toronto?  Do you have someone following them as well?"

The Enforcer broke Aristotle's gaze, turning to one of the others.
"Tell him what he wants to know."  Then, once again meeting
Aristotle's eyes with a golden glare, he added, "And then you will
leave."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Arriving home, Schanke glanced at Nick, who was sitting on the couch
with his head leaned back.  The television was on, although he could
barely hear what was being said.  Seeing Myra across the room,
motioning silently to the kitchen, he gave another look to Nick and
then followed.

Once in the kitchen, Schanke asked, "What's with Nick?  And where's
LaCroix?"

"Well, I think part of it is the news."

"News?  What happened?"

"You know how yesterday they announced they were looking for those
two?"

"Yeah, they wanted to find them.  And those that helped Nick with
this."

"They followed the two to Florida.  They found the girl alone, and
they killed her.  And now they're looking for the man and two others."

Schanke's eyes widened.  The two others, he knew, would be the two who
Nick was going to meet with.

"LaCroix mentioned the 'situation worsening.'  I...overheard them
arguing earlier.  Their voices were hushed, but it was clear they
didn't agree on something."

"Their plan has been completely shot down," Schanke answered in a
whisper.  "I'll go talk to Nick, see what's up," he told Myra, turning
around only to turn back when Myra touched his arm.

"Nick and LaCroix had gone out not long after you left.  While I have
told Jenny they're here, they haven't run into each other yet."

Schanke nodded and headed back to the other room, slowing as he
approached the couch.  Nick hadn't moved from earlier.  Was he asleep
or was he awake?  "Nick?"

"Myra told you," Nick said, his voice soft.  Sitting up, he stated,
"Holly's been killed and Nate and Emily--the two we were to meet with-
-have been traced to Texas, where we planned to leave for."

"Well, I guess you know it's going to change things now."

"Yeah."  Nick hit the power button on the remote, turning the
television off.  Leaning forward, Nick placed the remote on the table
and picked up the pages of questions.  "I have a favour to ask," Nick
started, and then explained the difficulty with the questions.  When
Schanke didn't answer, Nick held the questions out, telling him, "You
certainly don't have to help.  You can refuse right now, and LaCroix
and I will leave tonight."

"No, no, I don't mind helping.  I'm just a bit surprised."  Schanke
snatched the papers before Nick could pull them back.  Glancing at the
top page, which contained several crossed out questions and short
notes in the margin, Schanke asked, "So, what do I need to do?"
Reading the top question, which had been crossed through more than
once from the look of it, Schanke asked, "Why is 'Are vampires real?'
crossed out?  I mean, what has the IVEA done to show that you guys are
real?  And what about 'Do vampires suffer from mental illnesses, for
example depression, anxiety,' er..." Schanke paused, tilting his head
a little to see the words hiding under the slice of ink now residing
over them, then finished, "'delusions, hallucinations, schizophrenia,
etc.?'  That's a pretty good question, isn't it?"

"I believe LaCroix crossed those out," Nick stated, although
technically they had both disagreed with the firs.  He faintly smiled,
realising this was going to take a while.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Shortly before noon, the Schankes' phone rang.  Myra had left to run
several errands and Jenny answered the phone before Schanke had
managed to stand up.

"Hello?"

"I'd like to speak to a Detective Schanke?"

"Dad.... Phone," Jenny said, setting the receiver down and taking
several steps back, but not leaving the room.

Schanke was already on the way, and picked up the phone.  "Hello?" he
asked, slightly distracted when Nick stood.

"Is this Detective Schanke?"

"Ah, yeah."

"Is Nicholas there?"

Schanke tensed at the question, becoming suspicious.  "Who is this?"

"I don't know what Nick has told you, but just listen.  Nathaniel and
Emily have been killed."

"Er, who are you?"

"My name is Aristotle.  I don't know if Nick would have mentioned me
or not."

Schanke simultaneously stiffened and calmed.  "Ah, do you want to talk
to Nick?  He's--"

"No.  The rest of what I have to say is for you.  If Nicholas has not
yet asked for your help or you are hesitant, I ask you to consider
helping him.  Nicholas and LaCroix have not been traced and your
family will be in no danger.  Two of us are watching your house,
discretely, and another has been watching your partner for the last
several weeks.  I will arrive in Toronto in three days' time."

Schanke was about to reply with a question when the other hung up,
leaving him listening to the dial tone.  He put the phone back down
and turned to Nick, who had gone ashen, his eyes closed.  "Nick?"

Jenny slowly inched closer, wondering what had happened and who had
called.  She jumped upon feeling a hand rest on her shoulder and pull
her back.  When she looked up and saw LaCroix, she gasped, stepping
back, only to find she couldn't as LaCroix still had her firmly by the
shoulder.

After giving the girl a glare and small shake of his head, LaCroix
turned his gaze to Nick.  And then, as he had only heard the very last
part of the conversation, only waking upon feeling strong anger from
his son, LaCroix asked Schanke, "What did Aristotle tell you?"

"Ah, well," Schanke fumbled, his attention drifting between the two
vampires, his daughter's faint trembling, and then what he'd just been
told.  "Jenny, go back to your room."

"But--"

"Why not let her stay?" LaCroix asked.  Then, glancing toward Jenny,
he let his eyes glow faintly golden.  "Given her curiosity, I suspect
she'll listen in on the conversation, whatever the case."

Jenny stiffened, trying to shrink back, which LaCroix let her do.  But
she didn't leave--merely backed away.

Giving a glance to Jenny, Schanke finally answered LaCroix, telling
him, "Nathaniel and Emily were killed."

Ever so slightly, LaCroix tensed.  Now he understood his son's
emotions.  He even agreed with them.  But, for now at least, there was
nothing either of them could do other than to continue their plan.
"It will end, Nicholas.  You know how history goes...."

"This is not the Inquisition!  This time it is not just lucky,
fanatical mortals that happened upon us.  These mortals are hunting us
and they seem to know exactly how."

"They are fanatics all the same."  Turning away from Nick, LaCroix
further asked the mortal, "What else did he say?"

Schanke, a bit taken aback by Nick's short tirade, took several
seconds to answer LaCroix, telling him, "Nothing that was directed at
you or Nick.  Well, other than that he would be here in three days, or
nights...whatever it was."

"The rest was Aristotle appealing to Schanke to help us," Nick stated.
Then, he faced away from the others, walking over to the edge of the
window, carefully looking outside.  "Schanke, only help if you truly
want to.  I do believe Aristotle is correct in that you and your
family are in no danger by aiding us."

"What kind of help do you need?"

Turning back, Nick answered, "We need to stay, at least until
Aristotle arrives.  And we'll have to record the tape here."

"We have a video camera, if you need it?"  Getting a nod, Schanke told
them, "I'll pull it out tonight."  Then, suppressing a yawn, he asked,
"So, now what?  We still have those last few--"

"I'll finish that, Schanke.  It's late and you need sleep for work,
right?"

"Yeah, yeah, I work tonight."

Nick leaned over and picked up the pages, each of which now had even
more short comments and crossed out questions and/or comments than
before.  "Seriously, the biggest thing you can do to help is to let us
stay a few more days."

"Yeah, I get it," Schanke said, nodding.  "And I guess that includes
not changing anything that might alert others to your presence.  Which
means that while showing up to work tired wouldn't be a first, it
wouldn't be useful."

Nick forced a faint smile, then took the papers and headed toward the
spare bedroom.  Passing LaCroix, he gave a glance to the other vampire
and paused until LaCroix turned away from the mortals to follow him.


Downward Spiral - (17/27)

"My mom said you needed some paper," Jenny cautiously said, walking up
to Nick with several sheets of paper in hand.

Nick looked up and, when Jenny held the sheets out to him, he took
them.  "Thanks."

Jenny then watched as Nick copied a line off another sheet.  "So, what
are you doing?" she asked, trying to get a glance of the writing on
the papers, but Nick pulled them closer.

"Right now?  Writing out replies," Nick told her, starting to answer
the first question.

Jenny glanced toward the television, which was on with the volume
muted.  She glanced away after seeing the same faces she had seen
earlier, before her dad left for work.  "How old were they?  The three
on the news?  Nothing's been said about them, other than what
happened."

"Fairly young."

"How young?"

"All less than a hundred."  When it was clear Jenny wanted more, he
thought, recalling what Aristotle had said, and told her, "The older
woman was 90, the man 53, and the girl 19."

Jenny's eyes widened.  "Nineteen?  Is that how long she was a
vampire?"

"No.  That's how old she was.  She hadn't been a vampire long.  Not
even a year."

"Can I ask something?  Maybe it's a stupid question, but...."

Nick put down his pen, completely stopping what he was doing.  He saw
Myra approach, probably wondering why Jenny was still there.

"Did you want this?  I mean, did you know you were going to be a
vampire?  Did you get the choice, knowing exactly--"

"No," Nick quickly answered, then paused before explaining, "No, I
didn't know, not precisely.  I had...suspicions when I met LaCroix,
when I had the choice, but I had little time to realise exactly what
he was or what I would become, or what the consequences would be.  I
didn't know exactly what I was agreeing to."

"Then why?"

"Jenny, I think we should let Nick work," Myra abruptly interrupted,
starting forward.

"No, it's okay.  I don't mind answering."  Nick directed a partial
smile toward Myra, although quickly looked away from them both.
"Temptation.  The promise of immortality."

"Would you have refused, if you knew you'd become a vampire?"

Nick's eyes fell to the table in front of him, thinking.  "No," he
simply answered.

"Glad to hear that, Nicholas," LaCroix voiced, causing Jenny to jump
slightly and Myra to stiffen.

Nick merely looked up and over to LaCroix, not replying.

"Come, Jenny," said Myra, watching as Jenny hesitated a moment before
following her into the kitchen.

Once alone, LaCroix approached the couch, still pleased.  "Curious,
isn't she?"

"I don't mind."

LaCroix scoffed.  "You mind, Nicholas.  I heard it in the hesitation
of your answers."  Sitting next to Nick, he picked up one of the
sheets, noticing many changes had been made from when he and Nicholas
had worked on it the night before.  "I see the questions have been
narrowed down."

"Schanke helped with that."  Nick split the paper Jenny had brought
into two smaller stacks and passed one to LaCroix, next pushing a
sheet of the questions toward him.

"Nicholas, I--"

Nick glared at LaCroix, telling him, "Do you really want to watch me
do this all night?"

LaCroix resisted the urge to tease the other with a 'maybe' and merely
lightly smiled.  "Very well.  Now, let's see...." LaCroix started,
finding the first question on the page that was to be answered.  "'Do
vampires live productive lives?'  Well, I suppose that depends--"
LaCroix began, mockingly, but stopped the instant the paper was
snatched out of his hands.

"You don't have to help."

LaCroix seized the sheet, his eyes ever so faintly glowing.

Nick met the other's gaze for a second, but eventually looked away.
"Fine," Nick snapped, picking up his pen and starting where he left
off earlier.

The hostility made LaCroix pause a moment before he picked up the
spare pen on the table, the blank paper, and a large, hardcover
cookbook that sat under several of the sheets.  Moving to a nearby
recliner, LaCroix leaned back and cast a glance toward Nick, who
seemed oddly uncomfortable, as if nervous.  It was something that he
had noticed in Nick since they arrived there, and it was not passing.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

That morning, as Schanke came home and discovered his home silent, he
wondered for a second if Nick and LaCroix had perhaps left.  And then
he saw all of the pages on the coffee table, this time with answers
neatly written out.

Approaching, he sat on the couch and pulled one of the pages closer,
faintly surprised that the writing wasn't Nick's.  Curious, he started
reading at the top of the page:

"Do vampires live productive lives?
Most of us do, although it varies by the individual and what one
considers 'productive'.  We make use of our time and many of us
contribute to mortal society in the process.  We occupy our lives much
as mortals do with hobbies and interests.  Most of us have jobs or own
property; as such we pay taxes."

Schanke paused a second, before reading the second paragraph:

"Do vampires regularly kill for blood, as has been suggested?
Not regularly, nor do we need to kill for it.  We generally drink
bottled blood, most of which is freely donated."

Schanke would have continued, but he stopped mid-paragraph when he saw
movement across the room.  Looking up, he saw Nick slowly approaching,
dishevelled and half-awake.  "Nick?  You look like you should be
asleep."

"I was."

"But?"

"But now I'm not."  Nick walked up to the table and picked several
sheets up, glancing at each one to put them in order.  "I think we
might as well get this done with."

"So, LaCroix...?"

"Yeah, he's awake."

Schanke watched Nick turn and head back toward the hall.  "What do you
want me to do?"

Pausing and looking back, Nick replied, "Other than to get the video
camera, nothing."

"Nick, I can--"

"I don't want you involved in this any more than you already are."
Nick didn't give the other a chance to respond, continuing on his path
back to the spare room.

Schanke stayed put for over a minute before he finally stood and went
to get the video camera, a new tape, and the extra battery.  He
hesitated a moment before taking them to Nick, pausing once again at
the shut door before knocking.

When he got no response after two attempts at getting Nick's
attention, Schanke turned the knob and pushed the door open.  "Nick?"
he said, cautiously entering.  "I've got--" Schanke started, but he
then tensed as LaCroix practically appeared right in front of him.
Doing what he could to ignore the vampire, Schanke took another step
into the room and spotted Nick sitting on the bed, buttoning up what
looked like a new shirt.  "I have the camera here," he said, just as
LaCroix held out a hand for it.  Nick didn't move, and Schanke felt
like the room just got smaller.  Or maybe LaCroix just got closer?
With a slight delay upon realising Nick didn't want to talk, Schanke
addressed LaCroix, telling him, "And, ah, here's an extra battery and
a new tape.  I think there's another unused tape somewhere.  If you
need it, just ask.  And we have blank VHS tapes, too."

LaCroix waited for the mortal to leave, his patience quickly fading.
"Is there something else?"

"No.  No, I guess not."  Schanke looked to Nick, who quickly turned
his gaze away and to the ground.  Primarily to Nick, Schanke
mentioned, "If you need anything else, just ask."  Then, with a glance
to LaCroix, he left the two vampires to set up however they wanted.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Nick read through a piece of paper--written mere moments before.
About the time they realised a tripod would be useful, he had realised
they also didn't have an introduction.  While LaCroix didn't think it
was needed, Nick knew they should say something.  Writing an
introduction had given LaCroix time to take a shower, and then, since
he still hadn't finished writing, it meant LaCroix was the one that
had to ask if Schanke had a tripod.

Hearing LaCroix enter the room, Nick looked up to find LaCroix
carrying a tripod.  Nearly speaking, he hesitated upon seeing Schanke
following, bringing a chair from the kitchen.

"Where do you want this?" Schanke asked.  Then, seeing that one of the
pictures hanging along one wall had been taken down, leaving a nearly
blank background, he started in that direction and asked, "Over here?"
Looking to Nick and seeing the other nod, he sat the chair down and
then turned back toward Nick and LaCroix.  To the latter, who seemed
ill at ease holding the tripod, Schanke asked, "You want me to set
that thing up?" and immediately started forward.

LaCroix stiffened, but allowed the mortal to take the tripod.  While
he didn't particularly like Schanke's enthusiasm, he was far more
interested in seeing what Nick had written than setting the tripod up.
However, when he tried to see the paper, Nick moved it and the others
out of his reach.  "Nicholas--"

"You didn't want any kind of introduction, and I doubt you'd want to
read it for the recording."  Nick tucked in his shirt and stood,
walking over to the chair.

LaCroix waited as Schanke set the camera up as well, wanting to get
the mortal out of the room as soon as possible.

Turning the camera on, Schanke caught a glare from LaCroix, which made
him take a step back and mutter, "It should be ready."

LaCroix stood still, waiting for the other to leave.  But Schanke made
no move to budge.  "I don't think we'll need any...help."

"I'd like to stay, if that's all right?"  Seeing LaCroix' disapproval,
Schanke turned to Nick only to see the same expression.  "I'll be
completely silent.  Won't say a thing.  Won't interrupt.  No
questions.  You won't know I'm here.  Nada.  Nothing.  I--"

"Schanke...." Nick started, watching the other's motions freeze solid.
"You can stay, but only by the door."

Schanke relaxed, nodding.

"You need to be out of both mine and the camera's sight.  I don't want
this somehow traced back to you."

"So...."

"If you stand just behind the door, I think you'll be okay," Nick told
Schanke, managing a smile.  "But you must be silent."  Once Schanke
nodded and moved out of sight, Nick looked to LaCroix and nodded.

LaCroix fiddled with the camera, turned it to the right, and then
zoomed in on Nick slightly to get the other centred.  When Nick stared
fully into the camera, LaCroix hit record.

"First, you might be wondering why we--vampires--have taken as long as
we have to respond.  We are real; we live and yes, we do die.  Imagine
being hunted for every waking moment with the threat of death looming
over everything you hold dear.  To show ourselves is suicide,
especially as we are being killed simply for what we are."

Nick glanced down, just for a second, and then continued, "The
questions I will answer were gathered from everyday people, from, as
you have by now heard, the employees of a news station in Detroit,
Michigan.  And I'll say right now that the answers you hear will be
truthful."

Pausing, Nick slid the first page away, took a quick look at the first
question and said, "First question: Do you really have glowing eyes
and fangs?"  Leaving a couple of seconds of silence, Nick answered,
"Not usually.  Right now, no."  Nick closed his eyes, his head
slightly bowed, then looked into the camera with golden eyes and said
with a slight hiss, "But we can and do change."  Closing his eyes for
another moment, when Nick again looked at the camera all signs of
being a vampire had faded.  "Unless you threaten us with crosses,
garlic, stakes or otherwise anger us, you have little to fear."

"The next question asks: Are the characteristics that the IVEA have
mentioned accurate?  Is there more?  And the answer is yes; our
abilities and weaknesses have been described well.  And no, there
isn't more.  We can fly and we have the ability to bend the will of
mortals.  Garlic, holy water, and crosses do harm us.  The degree of
the affect varies depending on the situation."

Nick glanced down to the sheet, skipping over a crossed-out portion of
the paper, which only added to his hesitation upon seeing the
question.  He knew there wasn't a good answer for this one.  "And
mirrors?  Vampires cannot be fully defined by science.  I can say that
I have both seen and not seen my reflection.  It might be similar for
others, and it might not."

Switching to another page, one LaCroix had written out answers for,
Nick read, "Do vampires suffer from mental illnesses?"  Then, he
froze.  He knew LaCroix hadn't liked that question before, likely
because many vampires would be considered, in some manner or another,
psychologically unstable.  "Probably," Nick eventually spoke, then his
words stumbled over, "But vampires are different than mortals."  Nick
flat-out stopped, his eyes leaving the camera.  "This isn't an
answer."  Addressing LaCroix, Nick commented, "A mortal psychiatrist
would label us mad, LaCroix."

Almost lazily, LaCroix stopped the recording.  "What was I supposed to
write?  That question--"

"Could have been answered with something better than, 'But vampires
are different than mortals.'  Besides, we're not that different."

Schanke shifted uncomfortably, feeling out of place listening in on an
argument between the two men.  Stepping into the room when the two
stopped talking, he quietly remarked, "I guess I should go."

Nick turned toward Schanke, but didn't respond.

Glancing between Nick and LaCroix, Schanke left the room, pulling the
door shut behind him.

LaCroix watched as Nick pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote on
the paper, seemingly unaffected by Schanke's departure.  In fact, the
other seemed more relaxed.  "Perhaps we should do this later," LaCroix
suggested.

"No.  No, we might as well get this done with."

"Perhaps to leave here sooner?"

Nick looked up, answering, "Yes."

"You genuinely only wanted to come here because it was the safest
place."  LaCroix waited, expecting the other to either refute the
statement or otherwise answer, but Nick stayed silent.  "I'm
surprised."  Again, he received no comment.  "Nicholas--"

"I didn't want to involve Schanke again," Nick hissed.  "Nor did I
truly want to return to Toronto so soon, considering."

"Natalie," LaCroix whispered, watching Nick tense at the name.

"I don't want anyone else harmed because of me, LaCroix.  I want this
tape recorded before Aristotle gets here so we can leave immediately."

"And if he gets here at or after dawn?"

"We leave."  Nick turned away.  "With the others being found, it's too
dangerous to stay here any longer than necessary.  We make the
recording, make copies, and then as soon as Aristotle gets here we
split up."

LaCroix silently nodded and rewound the tape to the beginning, at
which he made eye contact with Nick.

Forcing himself to relax, Nick shifted and focused back on the camera.
"Again, LaCroix."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Late that night after Schanke had gone to work and Jenny to bed, Myra
watched as Nick paced in the living room.  She had already asked
multiple times if either he or LaCroix wanted anything, and every time
the offer had been turned down.  Nick was getting impatient, and she
could see that LaCroix was either becoming agitated by it or he, too,
was also losing patience.

Myra headed into the kitchen and to the refrigerator to get a glass of
milk, only to jump upon hearing a knock against the back door.  She
paused a second, her hand on the refrigerator door, then went to the
back door, but hesitated.

"Open it," Nick said, approaching.  "It's one of us."

Myra tensed slightly knowing that a vampire stood waiting, but she did
open the door.  After all, neither Nick nor LaCroix had done nothing
to harm them and if Nick knew who was there....  She stepped back upon
revealing a middle-aged, balding, glasses-wearing man.  She
immediately recognised him as the other vampire the IVEA were looking
for, but seeing him in person was much different.  To her, he didn't
look at all like a vampire.

Aristotle gave a very slight nod to the mortal woman, then entered,
bypassing her and going to Nick.  "I apologise for being a bit early. 
I hadn't planned on coming until tomorrow night, but--"

"That's fine.  We've had enough time."

Surprised, Aristotle asked, "You have everything done?  Recording
done, copies made?"

"Yes.  And we're ready to leave."

Aristotle opened his mouth to speak, but Nick had already turned and
left, going down the hall.  When LaCroix came into the kitchen a
moment later, he asked, "Is Nicholas all right?  I know he agreed to
do this somewhat reluctantly."

"Nicholas is fine.  He does, however, wish to get the tapes
delivered."

Nodding, Aristotle agreed, "Yes, until the mortals see the tape and
hopefully form a favourable reaction, we are no better off."

Nick returned with his and LaCroix' things and six copies of the tape.
He handed two of the tapes to Aristotle and all but his jacket to
LaCroix.  Glancing to Myra, he pulled on his jacket and pulled out
several large bills, placing it on the kitchen counter.  "It's not all
Canadian, but it should cover the lock and the time we've
inconvenienced you."  Nick then took his things and two of the tapes
from LaCroix, not meeting Myra's gaze.

"Nick--" Myra started, but Nick had already walked to the door and
pulled it open.  He was gone before she could get out another word.

Aristotle gave the mortal another nod and then he, too, left.

LaCroix remained a moment and told Myra, "Nicholas will not accept the
money back.  If you don't wish to accept it for allowing us to stay
here, perhaps take something to Natalie's grave?  I believe he
would...appreciate that."  He turned and walked toward the door.

"Will either of you be back?"

Pausing for a moment, LaCroix answered, "No," and then left.


Downward Spiral - (18/27)

Nearly thirty-six hours after leaving Schanke's, Nick and LaCroix met
in Baltimore, Maryland.  They had each delivered two tapes to
different cities during the night.  Aristotle had, as they departed
from Schanke's, mentioned he planned to keep out of sight until things
had calmed and wouldn't be meeting them.

Nick had arrived at the hotel several hours after LaCroix and entered
the room only to find the other taking a shower.  Slowly, Nick walked
over to where LaCroix had set down the bag containing his extra
clothes, only to spot the television remote upside down on the centre
of the bed.  Clearly, LaCroix had already checked the news.

Hesitating, Nick picked the remote up and hit the power button.
First, it popped up on the generic hotel information screen, but after
nudging the channel up a couple times he came to a news report.  It
was different than previous newscasts in that both a third party
recording was being shown--the one he and LaCroix had made--but that
it was apparently a recording itself, from another news channel.

"--vampires enjoy killing?  In some ways, yes.  Killing, hunting in a
way, was first and foremost a necessity.  It is instinctual, and yes,
can be rather enjoyable.  However, as has been said it is no longer
necessary to kill.  And even when necessary, other emotions generally
accompany any pleasure we might get from the action."

Nick involuntarily cringed back, wondering just how all of this would
be taken, but slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Can't vampires just drink animal blood?  Do some?  It is possible to
survive off of the blood of animals, much as a mortal could probably
live off of canned cat food.  Few vampires will drink animal's blood
unless necessary as it is not pleasant to drink, and it is neither
what we want nor need.  Even those that attempt it often cannot avoid
occasionally drinking human blood, and most don't try again.  There
are some vampires that do live entirely off animal blood with no
desire for human blood, but you are unlikely to ever have a
conversation with them or meet one."

After a short pause, the Nick on the screen smiled somewhat wistfully
as he said, "Can vampires eat or drink anything other than blood?  A
small amount of water or alcohol is usually drinkable, but any other
food or drink is nearly impossible to eat, even if forced.  Water is
unnecessary to us, and is rarely drunk.  Alcohol has a similar
although greatly dimmed effect on vampires as it does on mortals, and
most of us avoid it except on rare occasions, and then it is usually
mixed with blood."

The faint half-smile returning, he continued, "And, finally; have you
ever met anyone famous?  The answer, at least for myself, is yes.  Did
I know they'd become as known as they are now?  No.  Perhaps
recognised uniqueness, but never realised the full implications.  Many
of us have touched history, either people or events; but rarely do we
dare take part."

Another pause, and Nick's gaze became more serious.  "We ask only that
you form your own opinions of us, not from myth or an outside source,
but from who we are.  Don't kill us for what we are."

The interview ended and the news switched back to the anchor, who
spoke, "While the interview was somewhat unexpected, it paints a more
complete, overall view of vampires.  The IVEA has yet to give a
reaction to the taped interview.  The IVEA is also declining questions
from the FBI and other federal agencies; however, less than an hour
ago the FBI and Interpol demanded access to IVEA files and a
suspension has been put in place on all IVEA actions."

"Good, yes?" LaCroix said, entering the room fresh from his shower.

Nick glanced toward LaCroix and then flipped the television off,
saying, "If it lasts."

"Uncertainty, Nicholas?"

Nick shook his head, snapping, "It's been mere hours, LaCroix!  That's
all the time they've had to react.  It's too soon to know what,
exactly, is happening or will happen."

For a moment, LaCroix merely stood in place.  After a few seconds,
however, he nodded, telling the other, "Yes, we will have to wait."
Then, with a slight smirk he added, "But waiting can be fun, yes?"

Nick absently nodded as LaCroix turned and went back into the
bathroom.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"All operations of the IVEA are still suspended.  The FBI and Interpol
are deepening their investigation into IVEA records, and several IVEA
agents are being detained for questioning.  When asked why, the only
response was that the increased involvement was due to receiving more
information from an undisclosed source.  No answer was given when
asked if this source was from within their organisation or an outside
informant, nor was an answer given when asked if they had been somehow
contacted by a vampire, or--"

LaCroix flipped the television off.  Glancing to Nick, who sat at a
table by the room's window, he watched the other turn away.  "You know
something about this.  They did get the information from one of us."
Standing and approaching Nick, LaCroix sensed that he was right.
"What information did they get?"

"Names and locations."

LaCroix' eyes glowed golden.  "Nicholas--"

"Aristotle sent it.  It's not a complete list of those that have died,
but it is far more complete than what any mortals outside the IVEA are
aware of."

"And what difference would that make?"

"It also contains the names of mortals that have died in the process."

"The lists Janette told me about."

"Yes."

"Dangerous in the hands of a mortal."

"How, LaCroix?  Those of us that are still alive are alive because we
haven't been traced.  I'm sure the IVEA is aware of all those that
have died; it won't be new information to them."

LaCroix looked away.  His son was right in that they were in no more
danger now than they were before.  "It is nearly sunset," he quickly
commented.  "We must feed and then leave here."

"I'm fine."

"You are hungry; I can feel it."  LaCroix smirked and then asked,
"Would you rather merely feed from a mortal, or kill them as well?  In
a few days...."

Nick stiffened but nodded, aware that if they waited they would indeed
need to kill.  Nodding, Nick reached across the table to his jacket
and pulled it closer, his badge slipping out of a pocket.

"Nicholas...."

As soon as he had the jacket on, Nick snatched his badge off the table
and put it back.  "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Leave it."

"I've considered it..."  Nick shook his head, finishing, "But no."
Taking a step back, Nick pushed the drapes to the side for the last
bits of daylight to slide by.  "It's fine, and the sun has nearly set.
If you want to leave, I suggest we get ready to do so."  Nick released
the thick fabric, letting it swing back over the window, and then he
walked past LaCroix to gather his other set of clothes.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

[Early September, 1995]

Nearly a month later, LaCroix flew after Nick, who had abruptly
changed directions.  As they landed in an alley, LaCroix hissed,
"Nicholas!"

"Shh, LaCroix," Nick said as he reached toward a door that wasn't
quite closed.

LaCroix reached out and grabbed Nick's arm, pulling the other back
into a shadow as the door opened, letting several mortals out.  Once
they had left, LaCroix whispered, "This is dangerous.  We are not in
the mortals' favour, Nicholas.  The IVEA may have been disbanded, but
we both know that they're still hunting us, perhaps even more so."

"All we need do is stay out of sight," Nick replied and then started
for the door again, only to be held back.  "LaCroix--"

"We cannot risk hunting--"

"This isn't about hunting" Nick hissed.  "I'm just...I'm tired of
hiding; tired of avoiding them.  Even if we're seen, they can do
nothing."

LaCroix closed his eyes, nodding to himself.  "For a few minutes,
Nicholas," he said, releasing the younger.

"You're not coming in?"

"No.  No, you'll be less likely noticed alone."  LaCroix faintly
smiled, then flew straight up to the roof.

Nick remained in place, but darted out of sight as the door opened
again, emitting another mortal.  As it swung closed, Nick quickly
snuck inside, slipping from shadow to shadow until he had a full view
of the room: a dance club and bar, with what looked like an entrance
opposite him.

For nearly a quarter of an hour, he just watched them.  He wished he
could close his eyes, but he didn't dare in case someone spotted him. 
He could only watch.  And while better than the boredom that was
beginning to overcome both himself and LaCroix, Nick missed
interacting with mortals and suspected that on some level LaCroix did
as well.

Suddenly Nick's focus lapsed as a man roughly brushed shoulders with
him, and his eyes immediately locked with the young man's widening
gaze.

"You're--"

"*I'm not who you think I am,*" Nick quickly intoned, keeping his
voice even and friendly.  "*You won't remember this.*"

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, the young man apologised for
bumping into Nick and then left as if nothing had happened.

Nick moved, stepping to the side until he was able to see the bar more
easily.  Almost instantly, his eyes locked on a young redheaded woman
sitting at the bar drinking a martini.  She looked vaguely familiar,
but he couldn't place her.  About to step closer, he instead took a
step back as she looked his way.

Nick watched her gaze pass over where he stood, and it hit him that he
had seen her on the news.  Specifically, in the days after Natalie had
been killed, while he was at the Schankes'.  She had worked for the
IVEA, and her manner told him she was still hunting his kind.

He closed his eyes to hide their golden hue, opening them when he
heard a phone ring to find the woman answering her cell phone.  Nick
backed up, trying to disappear completely into a shadow, and listened.
His anger latched onto only the most relevant information;
specifically that she was, indeed, a hunter and that she was being
called to Denver.

Nick's gaze followed her as she tipped the bartender, stood, and then
headed for the exit.  Taking a couple glances, Nick took in a deep
breath and headed out himself as discreetly as possible.  As soon as
he reached the street Nick started following her as she headed down
the street, walking from shadow to shadow.

Suddenly, Nick felt a hand on his shoulder: LaCroix.

"I thought you said this wasn't about hunting, Nicholas...."

"It wasn't," Nick said, glancing back toward the other for a second.

Seeing Nick's eyes flash a bright gold, LaCroix asked, "But it is now,
yes?"

"Yes."  Nick pulled free from LaCroix' grip, but took only a single
step forward.  "She's a hunter," Nick stated, and then flew up to the
level of the surrounding building's roofs.

LaCroix hesitated a moment before following Nick, and then they flew
ahead of the woman to a small cross street.

As the mortal turned a corner, Nick landed in her path, his eyes still
golden.

"You!" she said, clearly recognising Nick.  "You are a vile and--"

Landing behind the woman, LaCroix covered her mouth and whispered
harshly into her ear, "And you have said enough."  He flew up, taking
the mortal with him.

They left the street empty, and LaCroix flew the woman to a darker
section of the city, landing on the roof of an unoccupied warehouse.

Nick landed behind LaCroix, simply whispering, "Let go of her."

LaCroix did so, taking a step to the side of the woman so that she
could still see him from the side.

"I want to know why," Nick hissed, slowly approaching the mortal.

"Why do you have to ask?  You are what you are.  Cold-blooded killers;
nothing more."

"Why do you hunt us?"

"The IVEA offered me a job and I took it."

"The IVEA has been dismantled."

"Officially."  She smiled, adding, "But we aren't giving up."

"But why?"

"I've stated that; your kind are killers."

Nick turned away, stating, "You blindly believed what they told you."

"Not blindly."

LaCroix breathed out, his patience waning.  "Nicholas, this is
useless."

"No, it's not useless," Nick said, spinning back.  Barring his fangs,
he smiled faintly.  "It means I won't care what happens to her."

"Your kind don't care," the woman half-yelled, only for Nick to reach
out and take her by the neck.  

Seeing the woman reach for her pocket, LaCroix stopped her.  Inside
the mortal's pocket, he found only a cell phone.  While she had
managed to turn it on, she had not made a call.  "Foolish."  Then, he
watched her go for her other pocket.  Before LaCroix reached her, she
had stabbed Nick in the arm with a syringe, but he did manage to
prevent her from injecting the liquid.  "Even more so," he hissed,
pulling the woman back.

Nick removed the syringe, throwing it to the ground in anger.  Again,
Nick's hand snapped out toward her neck, but this time he forced her
to step back as he spoke, "You're the one that doesn't care."
Listening to her heart beat calmly despite her situation, his voice
lowered and he slowly spoke, "You don't even care that you're about to
die."  When the woman merely smirked back at him, Nick roughly turned
her in his grasp and sank his fangs into her neck.

LaCroix watched with fascination and a hint of hunger.  He nearly
pulled the woman free of his son and took what remained of her blood,
but knew his son needed and wanted this.  He instead closed his eyes
and waited, feeling Nick's pleasure at draining this mortal's life
away.  It pleased him greatly, as he felt no guilt from Nick, even as
her heart stopped and his son eventually released her.  LaCroix took a
tentative step forward, knowing that they would now have to leave this
city before sunrise.

Not looking up to LaCroix, Nick said, "Go.  I'll meet you in
Sacramento."  When LaCroix approached him, seemingly concerned, Nick
repeated, "Go, LaCroix.  I'll find you after I take care of this."

Hearing the certain, even tone from the other, LaCroix nodded and
left.

Laying the woman on the roof, Nick reached into his jacket pocket and
pulled out his razor, flipping it open.  He hesitated, almost putting
the blade away as he knew it would do little good.  Leaning over, he
sliced the wounds, obscuring the puncture marks.  Blood clung to the
blade, just enough to make his anger flare a bit more as he licked the
metal clean before putting it back in his pocket.

Still, his primary emotion was hatred, although he now felt a growing
hint of satisfaction.  Nick found the syringe cap in the woman's
jacket and, picking up the syringe recapped it.  Then, putting the
syringe in the pocket that had his razor in it, he picked the woman up
and flew off to get rid of her body.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

"I was beginning to worry," LaCroix said that morning as Nick arrived
at the empty house he had picked out for the day.

"Are you certain this house is uninhabited?"

"You did see the sale sign out front, yes?  And notice the lack of
furniture?"

"And the lack of drapes and blinds?" Nick mentioned, nodding to the
sheer curtains.

"One of the back rooms has adequate window coverings."  Pausing,
LaCroix asked, "You took your time getting here, Nicholas."

"And?" Nick asked, turning back.

LaCroix inwardly flinched, feeling that his son knew exactly why he
was asking.  "You have not been yourself lately."

"You don't know me, LaCroix.  You never have."

"You've killed more in the past few weeks than you have in decades,"
LaCroix hissed.

"You don't care."

At that, LaCroix flew at Nick and shoved him toward the corner only
for Nick to use his own momentum to switch places with him.  Slamming
into the corner, LaCroix snarled out of instinct.  Trying again, this
time LaCroix managed to pin Nick against a wall just long enough to
calmly state, "Apparently I know you better than you know me."

Nick shrugged away from LaCroix just as the other's grip loosened,
purposely averting his gaze.

"Nicholas--"

"I'm not coming back to you, if that's what you think is happening.
Frankly, I'm not sure how I feel about tonight."

"I have yet to feel any...guilt from you," LaCroix carefully prodded. 
"I'm a bit surprised."

"So am I."  Nick started away, but felt LaCroix' hand on his arm.
"LaCroix, I--"

"We should rest."  LaCroix gently pulled Nick toward the hall, but the
other didn't move.

Taking a step back, Nick walked over to the window, looking through
the sheer fabric to the brightening morning sky.  As soon as the sun
rose mere minutes later, Nick first stood out of the way of the near-
direct sunlight, and then turned and headed down the hall to LaCroix,
dreading what the other would say.

Watching Nick glance into one of the other rooms, LaCroix commented,
"The woman is still occupying your thoughts."

"No," Nick quickly stated, stopping as he turned to fully face
LaCroix.

"No?  Surely she is the source of the hatred I feel?"

"I've felt it for a long time, LaCroix."

"Yes, but this hunter's blood has managed to release it.  You feel
better, yes?"

Nick looked away, answering, "Yes."

"Good," LaCroix said as he slowly approached Nick and gently urged the
other forward with a hand on the younger man's back.  "Perhaps we
should hunt more of these hunters?"

Looking to LaCroix, Nick simply answered, "Perhaps," and then allowed
LaCroix to guide him forward.  Nick halted just inside the door,
however, commenting, "I'm tired of running."

"If we hunt them, Nicholas, then--"

"Then we will be running both after them and away from them.  The last
few weeks we've barely stayed anywhere long enough to do anything.
We've slept in run-down hotels, old houses, barns...."

"Hmm, yes.  Perhaps later, then?"  Not getting an answer, LaCroix
suggested, "And perhaps we could--"

"Let's just go to sleep, LaCroix."

LaCroix reached out to Nick as he turned away, resting a hand on the
younger man's shoulder just long enough to give his son a nod of
agreement.


Downward Spiral - (19/27)

A week and a half and four moves later, Nick awoke in the middle of
the day to a piercing feeling in his back.  Instantly, he discovered
that he had little control over his muscles.  Being pulled easily back
and off of the bed, he could see that LaCroix was in the same
situation as he--disoriented and extremely weakened by whatever they
had been given.

LaCroix fought the two mortals that had grabbed him, but could neither
shake them off nor even grasp the sheets on the bed as he was pulled
back and onto the floor.  He tried to fly free, but he could do
nothing but let them pull him back to the wall where they held him in
place.  Unable to stand and feeling himself weaken further, LaCroix
had no choice but unwillingly watch the others take his son.

When Nick attempted to break free of the two men dragging him, he was
forced to his knees and his head pulled back.  When the man behind him
then tried to force his mouth open, Nick tried to bite the man's hand
but only managed a few drops of his blood as his fangs contacted skin.
And then, after the faint distraction of the scent fresh blood, he
felt a cool liquid flow into his mouth--blood.  The blood wasn't
fresh, and while still sweet he tasted a hint of bitterness.  He tried
to ignore the blood but, between instinct and need, he swallowed.

Nick heard a mocking approval from the mortals along with LaCroix'
barely coherent anger.  He tried turning and got a glimpse of LaCroix
as a metal rod stabbed through LaCroix' shoulder and into the wall
behind him before his head was forced back.

Nearly choking on the blood, Nick felt his surroundings dulling.  He
felt sick, a dull ache coming from his stomach.  And then, in a panic,
the mortals left, at which Nick saw flashing lights outside the hotel
room's window.  He fell to his hands and knees, head drooping down,
drops of blood dripping to the carpet.

They had to get out, but he couldn't stand up let alone free LaCroix. 
He couldn't even lick away the blood that clung to his lips or swallow
what remained in his mouth.

"Nicholas?" LaCroix spoke, watching as the other shook slightly.
Before he could say anything more, however, several mortals entered
the room.  Two were uniformed police and the other two had their
badges visible, clipped to their belts.  All had their weapons drawn
and had immediately aimed at them.

One of the men nodded to the two uniformed officers, telling them,
"Go, maybe we'll get lucky."

LaCroix softly laughed as two of the mortals left.  "They left a good
minute before you got here."

"We know; we have other officers in pursuit," the man spoke again,
keeping his gun pointed at LaCroix.  Although the vampire appeared to
have been skewered with three feet of metal, the calmness of the
other's statement kept him back.  "I'm Detective Mark Bryant, Austin
P.D., and this is my partner Sean Metzger."

The second mortal, Metzger, cautiously stepped toward Nick during his
partner's introduction, suspecting something was wrong.

Nick scooted slowly away from the approaching mortal, half-crawling
and half-dragging himself back.  Eventually, he fell to the floor to
lie on his side, his energy depleted.

Seeing Nick's weakness, Metzger lowered his weapon and turned toward
LaCroix.  "What happened in here?  What happened to him?"

"First, free me."

Metzger stiffened, but getting a hesitant nod from his partner,
approached LaCroix.  He gripped the metal rod, pausing several
seconds, even regripping the rod before yanking it out of the wall.
He had expected a scream, but the vampire made no noise.  Metzger
dropped the rod and then reached forward toward LaCroix, but backed
off when LaCroix growled at him.  He returned his attention to Nick,
who was just barely consciousness.

"Now, what happened?" Bryant demanded, keeping his gun aimed on
LaCroix.

Metzger went back to Nick and knelt.  He was surprised when the
vampire simply lay still, eyes open, staring at him.  When Nick's eyes
slid shut, he reached forward and touched him on the arm, but he got
no reaction.  Shaking the other slightly, Metzger watched Nick's head
fall to the side.  "He's completely out."

"What's wrong with him?" Bryant asked LaCroix, nodding toward the
other vampire as his partner stood up.

Between blood loss and the effects of the tranquilliser, LaCroix shook
his head slightly to clear his thoughts.  "Why would you care?" he
hissed as he fell sideways, so that he was now sitting, leaning
against the wall.  In seconds, LaCroix felt consciousness fading, and
he unwillingly closed his eyes.

Bryant kept his gun trained on LaCroix until the vampire had slid
fully to the floor.  "Damn, this is all we need."

The two officers returned to the room, at which Metzger told them,
"Keep any onlookers away.  Don't give even a hint at what's going on."

Putting his gun away, Bryant turned toward his partner.  "I'll call
the Captain, let him know what happened and that we're going to need a
van down here."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

LaCroix woke and quickly sat up, his eyes flashing golden at the
mortal woman that had been leaning over him.

The woman backed up, hand still clutching a stethoscope for a moment,
and then she quickly lowered it, letting it hang around her neck.  "I-
-"

"Back off, Diane," Bryant said, pulling the woman back by the
shoulders.

LaCroix glanced around the room and quickly determined that this was
neither the hotel they had been staying at--nor a hotel at all.  He
shifted, so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed.  "Where am I?"

"It's a safe-house."  Stepping forward, Bryant then asked, "What
happened before we arrived?"

"Where is Nicholas?"

"He's here.  And if you tell Dr. Reed what happened, she can try to
help him."

LaCroix stood, his eyes darting to the door.  Closing his eyes to
focus more easily, he immediately sensed that Nick was still
unconscious.  Other than that, he felt nothing.  Giving a glance to
the woman, he told her, "In addition to the tranquilliser we were
given, Nicholas was force-fed a fair amount of blood."  He looked away
and toward the door.  "It was likely poisoned."

"He didn't keep it down," Diane answered, stepping in front of the
detective.  "The poison--"

"Is likely the culprit."

"You know what he's been given?" Bryant asked.

"No."

"But you've seen its effects," Diane stated.

"And felt."  LaCroix headed toward the door, and when the detective
got in his way, he hissed, "Now, take me to him."

Diane walked around Bryant and to the door, pulling it open.  "He's in
the next room," she said, walking into the hall.

LaCroix glared at the detective as he followed the doctor out of the
room, past a nervous uniformed officer, and to the next room.  He
followed the woman inside, watching the other detective he had seen
before stand in surprise.  But his attention quickly turned to the
bed, where Nick lay motionless and pale.

"I honestly don't know much about your kind to tell how he is doing.
Well, anything, really..." Diane started as she stood off to the side
and watched the vampire pass.  "I mean, I don't know what's normal for
vampires.  He's stable, but...."

Approaching Nick, LaCroix leaned over the younger vampire, touching
the back of his hand to Nick's face.  "He is very weak," LaCroix
whispered.

"What can we--"

"He needs blood," LaCroix interrupted.  He reached into his pockets,
but found they were empty.  The mortals had apparently confiscated
their belongings.  Focusing on the mortal woman, he stated, "Get me a
knife," as he turned back to Nick.

Metzger approached, pulling out a pocketknife and handing it slowly to
LaCroix.

Taking it without a word, LaCroix sliced both Nick's palm and his own,
causing the mortals to stiffen.  Taking Nick's hand, their wounds met
and LaCroix closed his eyes.  Within seconds, however, he released the
younger man's hand, lips parting slightly.  Instead of giving his son
blood, he was taking it.  LaCroix looked at his hand, the wound
visibly bleeding and already healing.  Nick's hand, however, was
neither healing nor was there even a hint of blood.  "I cannot help
him."

"Why?" Diane demanded.  "What's wrong with him?"

LaCroix merely sent a golden glare at the mortal before turning and
walking away, fighting the urge to pace.

From where he stood in the doorway, Bryant quickly started forward and
shoved LaCroix against the wall.  "Answer her!"

Immediately, LaCroix grabbed the mortal by the neck and spun them so
that it was Bryant pinned to the wall.  "I wouldn't do that again,"
LaCroix hissed, holding the other firmly in place, even as the
detective's hands tried prying his hand away from his throat.
Abruptly releasing the mortal, LaCroix turned to find two guns aimed
at him--Metzger's and one of the officer's.

"Tell her!" Bryant forced, stepping toward LaCroix.

Diane darted forward, stepping between Metzger and LaCroix.

LaCroix took advantage of the woman's foolish attempt to help him and,
giving a glance to Nick, he left the room.  There was nothing he could
do for his son without blood.

When Bryant started after LaCroix, she told him, "No, leave him."

"Why, he just about killed me!"

"But he didn't," Diane said, pointedly.  Then she paused, explaining,
"He's likely hungry, tired, and frustrated.  Let me talk to him;
alone, without any weapons pointed at him."  She waited and, upon
receiving a reluctant nod, left the room to find LaCroix.  Glancing
into the other bedroom, she found him standing near the window,
glancing out.

LaCroix turned as he listened to the hushed tones of Detective Bryant
ordering the officer that had followed him into the room to leave.
The detective left soon after, leaving only the mortal woman behind.
He curiously watched as she closed the door, effectively shutting
herself in the room with him.

Holding her position even as LaCroix approached her, she extended her
hand and introduced herself, "I'm Dr. Diane Reed."

"I'm sure you know who I am."

"Lucien LaCroix," she answered.  When the other didn't take her hand,
she retracted it, asking, "Do you prefer to go by Lucien or--"

"LaCroix," he instantly replied.

A bit uncomfortable at the tone, Diane asked, "So then, LaCroix, will
you tell me what's happening to Brabant?"

"Why should I say anything to you?" he asked, continuing forward.

"I'm a doctor.  I can try to help him."

"A doctor.  Does that mean you're another pathologist; or is your
specialty paediatrics?  Or perhaps psychiatry?"  LaCroix sinisterly
laughed as he came to a stop within reach of the woman, stating, "You
have already admitted that you know nothing about vamp--"

"My specialty is cardiac surgery.  Sean is my brother-in-law and I
sometimes do consultations for him and the other detectives.  And
while I am nowhere near an expert on vampires, I do think I can help."

"Unless you have access to several litres of blood...."

"I made a request before you woke up.  As it's a situation that hasn't
happened before, it turns out there's a fair bit of approval and
paperwork involved."

"In other words, no."

Diane set her jaw.  Why couldn't he just cooperate?  Couldn't he tell
that she was trying to help them?  "If I have a reason that indicates
immediate need, I'll get it.  The request I put in was for both of
you, as from what Bryant and Sean told me you two went through quite
an ordeal this morning.  But I can't do anything more until I know
what happened and exactly what needs to be done.  The more you can
tell me the better."

LaCroix turned back toward the window, shutting his eyes.  "The
objective of the poison seems to be to starve us."

"How?"

"Extreme nausea resulting in the inability to ingest blood and lack of
hunger."

"And vomiting."

"Yes."

"And he's still unconscious because...?"

LaCroix turned, his voice becoming terse as he answered, "As I said,
Nicholas is weak--from more than just the poison."

Diane stiffened as she saw flecks of gold dancing in the vampire's
eyes.

Feeling his hunger and weakness rather acutely, LaCroix walked slowly
and purposely toward a chair in the corner of the room and sat down,
once again facing the mortal.

Stepping toward LaCroix, Diane asked, "When was the last time each of
you had any blood?"

"It's been a week and a half for Nicholas."

"And you?"

Looking toward the draped window, LaCroix answered, "A week."

Aware the times couldn't possibly be adequate, particularly given the
blue tinge she had seen in Nick's skin, Diane asked, "That's not
nearly often enough, is it?"

LaCroix didn't reply as, from the question, he suspected she already
had a good idea of his answer.

"Will he recover?"  Once again getting only silence, she tried again,
"If he gets blood soon, will he recover?"

LaCroix turned slowly back.  "Likely."

"How long until he wakes?"

"Several hours, at least."  LaCroix then leaned back and closed his
eyes, intending to rest.

Diane stepped forward, but took only the one step.  He didn't want to
speak to her, and he was undoubtedly tired.  She left, only to find
both Bryant and Metzger waiting in the hall.

"So, what did he tell you?" Bryant immediately prodded.

As she shut the door, she told them, "Well, I have a general idea of
what's going on with Brabant now.  Other than that, nothing new."

"And?"

"Like LaCroix said, he needs blood.  I'll be back as soon as I can.
I'm going to the hospital to see if I can speed things up and to get a
few things.  If Brabant comes to before I'm back, call me."

Metzger stopped Diane from leaving, grabbing her wrist as she passed
to get her attention.  "And LaCroix?"

"Let him rest; that goes for both of you," she said, turning toward
Bryant for emphasis, then continued toward the front door.


Downward Spiral - (20/27)

Late that night, Detective Metzger started awake when the officer
watching Nick shook him.

"Brabant is...well, I guess he's awake."

"You guess?" Metzger asked as he stood and focused his attention on
the bed.  Immediately, he saw that Nick had shifted slightly to his
side, but otherwise the vampire looked the same--until he saw the
golden glow of Nick's eyes staring calmly at him.  "Get Dr. Reed," he
said, walking forward, feeling as if he were in a trance.

Nick bared his fangs, hissing at the mortal and turning more on his
side, moving away.  He felt ill, and having these mortals so close
only made it worse.  As two more mortals entered the room, Nick pulled
back as one of them, a woman, walked straight at him.

Diane walked up to the bed and sat on the edge, setting a bag down
behind and beside her.  "It's good to see you awake," she said as she
inched closer, hoping the greeting would help calm him.

Nick sat up and leaned against the headboard.  "No," he simply said as
she reached out toward him.

Stopping her approach, Diane asked, "How do you feel?"

Nick closed his eyes, attempting to relax.  When he sensed one of the
other mortals start forward, Nick opened his eyes only to find a gun
was also being raised toward him.  Instinct took over, at which he
grabbed the woman and pulled her in front of him.  The other three
mortals then raised their weapons.  Nick would have snarled at them,
but didn't feel he had the energy.

"Release her!" Bryant commanded.

Nick merely pulled the woman closer, his lips brushing against the
side of her neck.  She seemed calm, but her heart rate betrayed the
illusion.  Seeing LaCroix enter the room, Nick inwardly relaxed.

Bryant turned his attention to the other vampire, telling him, "Get
him to--"

"What makes you think I can get Nicholas to do anything?" LaCroix
replied with a partial smile.

Diane tried not to shiver at the icy cold breath against her neck or
the cold skin under her fingers.  And then, when she felt Nick's grip
loosen slightly, she shifted only for him to retighten his hold on
her.

Feeling a wave of nausea, Nick leaned his head forward onto the
woman's shoulder, waiting for it to pass.

LaCroix stepped toward bed, ignoring the weapons that were now trained
on him, and gently pulled Nick toward him and away from the mortal
woman.

Bryant darted forward and took Diane's arm, pulling her away from Nick
despite her protests.  Seeing her reach for his gun and push it to the
side, he demanded, "What do you think--"

"Me?  Maybe if you'd stop waving your weapons around...."

LaCroix turned his attention away from the arguing mortals to Nick,
who was now leaning heavily against him.  Sensing pain in the other
even as Nick's fingers clenched his arm, LaCroix half-pulled and half-
lifted Nick to his feet, then backed slowly toward the bedroom door.

Seeing the movement, Bryant pushed Diane out of the way, stepping
toward the two vampires.  "Stay right there!"

Diane again tried to push Bryant's hand away, but this time he
wouldn't budge.

"Mark, just put it down," Metzger said, putting his own weapon away.
Nodding toward LaCroix, he asked, "We'll keep our calm if you stay in
this house, okay?"

Without answering, LaCroix left the room, taking Nick with him.  Aware
the mortals were following, LaCroix stopped at the bathroom door just
long enough to let Nick fly the few feet from the hall to the bathroom
sink.  He stepped inside and then pushed the door shut just as the
woman approached.

"Wait!"  Diane knocked on the door, demanding, "Let me in, LaCroix."
She waited, but she wasn't getting an answer.  Pausing as the phone
rang, Diane then relaxed and leaned against the door.  Holding her bag
in front of her, she quietly continued, "Please, I have something that
should help him."

"Dr. Reed?" one of the two uniformed officers called out.  Then,
approaching, he told her, "It's for you; apparently the hospital has,
er, authorisation?"

Diane closed her eyes.  The authorisation had to be on the blood she
wanted--something she hadn't quite gotten permission on earlier.
"Ah...tell them that I'll have someone come down within the next
hour."  When the young man vanished, going back to the phone, she
turned to her brother-in-law.  "Sean, could you go up to the hospital
and tell them I sent you?"

"Yeah.  Yeah, I'll go.  Just take care with those two.  And Bryant,
remember what I told them earlier?"

When Metzger looked toward him, Bryant reluctantly nodded, telling his
partner, "I'll try."  He then looked away, already feeling a bit
helpless to do anything.

Once Metzger had left, Diane stepped back over to the door.
Listening, she could hear nothing.  "LaCroix, please let me in.  I
only want to--"  She stepped back as the door gave way, opening to
reveal LaCroix.  She tried to look past him, but he slipped out into
the hall before she could see anything.  "H-how is he?" she asked as
LaCroix turned and she took a step back into the doorframe.

LaCroix paused, attempting to contain his anger.  Ignoring the woman's
question, he asked, "What can you do for him?"

"Is he still nauseous?" she asked, but he didn't answer.  "If he is, I
can try to give him something to help that.  I have--"

"Are you certain it will help?" LaCroix demanded, interrupting the
woman.  "Yes or no."

"I can't say for sure as I don't know how vampires are physically
different."  Sensing that LaCroix wasn't going to listen to her much
longer, she told him, "If I had to pick one, I'd say that yes, I think
it will help."

Annoyed but aware he had little choice, LaCroix twisted the doorknob
and pushed it open an inch.

Half-frozen under LaCroix' glare, Diane slowly stepped to the side and
pushed the door open behind her.  Turning, she continued to push the
door inward, tacking a step away from the door as she saw Nick.  He
sat on the floor, leaning against the cabinets, one hand hanging onto
the counter, obscuring his face.  Seeing a few drops of diluted blood
in the sink, she looked up and knew from the haphazardly rinsed out
sink that Nick had lost yet more blood.  She snapped her head around
as the door was pulled shut behind her, only to find she was alone.
LaCroix hadn't come back in.

Looking back to Nick, Diane carefully kneeled in front of him.  "What
should I call you?" Diane started, and then further prodded,
"Nicholas?  Nick?  Brabant?  Knight?  Something else?"

"Nick is fine," he whispered, still leaning his forehead against the
cool wood.

"Well, Nick, if you give me your arm, I can--"

"I heard what you said to LaCroix," Nick harshly interrupted.  "You
don't need to repeat it."

Pursing her lips, Diane watched his body wince with pain.  Slowly, she
reached forward, her hand stopping just before reaching his wrist,
right as he tensed.  Pulling her hand back, she told him, "If you
heard our conversation, you know I want to help.  But I do need your
help first."  Again reaching for Nick's wrist, this time she didn't
stop.  With her fingers wrapped loosely around Nick's unbudging wrist,
she asked, "Please?"

Reluctantly, Nick relaxed and let the woman pull his arm toward her.

"Thank you," Diane said as she rolled his sleeve up.  Trying not to
think about the cold skin in her hands or the weakness she felt in
Nick's muscles, she turned to her bag, avoiding his gaze.  She filled
a syringe with 3 ml of fluid and took Nick's arm.  Seeing him look
away, she paused, asking, "You don't like needles?"

"Not fond of them.  Just do it."

Nodding more to herself than Nick, Diane gave him the injection.
"This is Compazine.  It should alleviate--"

Nick yanked his arm back as soon as she was done, pulling it up
against his chest.

Diane would have continued, but his harsh expression told her he
didn't care.  "I gave you a little more than the usual dose," Diane
told him as she closed up her case.  "But if the nausea doesn't fade
soon, tell me, okay?"  When he didn't answer her, not even bothering
to look at her, she cautiously reached out toward him.  "Nick?" she
prodded as she brushed his hair to the side to get a better look at
his face.

Nick pulled back further as the woman's fingers nearly touched his
skin.  When she then reached for his chin, Nick abruptly turned,
baring his fangs with a snarl.

Diane fell backward, her elbow hitting the door in her surprise.
"Sorry, I just--"  As the door opened next to her and she saw LaCroix
staring down on her, Diane cut off her sentence.  She looked at Nick,
but he had already turned away from her.  "Remember, let me know--"
and then she gasped as she was lifted to her feet by LaCroix and
pulled into the hall.

"You've done what you wanted to do," he stated, releasing her and
turning to go to Nick.

Without thinking, Diane took LaCroix' arm, telling him, "I wanted to
wait and make sure--"

"You have done enough!" he replied, shaking off her touch.  "If
Nicholas does not improve, I will tell you."  LaCroix went to Nick,
pushing the bathroom door closed behind him.

Diane and Bryant waited silently for several minutes, and then Diane
prodded the other in the arm.  "Let's leave them alone."

"What, and stand by and watch them leave?"

"If they really want to leave, I don't think we'll be able to stop
them."

Although hesitant, Bryant nodded and headed to talk to one of the
officers stationed at the house.  Diane followed moments later, only
for her thoughts to turn to her brother-in-law--and the blood he was
getting from the hospital.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

It was early morning before Detective Metzger had returned to the safe
house.  Inside, he found both officers sleeping and Diane sitting in a
chair in the main bedroom where both vampires lay sleeping on the bed.

"Diane!" he called with a harsh whisper to get her attention.  Once
she had joined him in the hall, he asked, "Where's Bryant?"

"He went home."

"Great.  That'll go over just great," Metzger said unenthusiastically.
Seeing Diane's confusion, he explained, "The word is out that me and
Bryant were with them.  Both the papers and the news stations want to
know where they are and what's happening.  Captain suggested we should
stay here to avoid drawing attention."

Diane nodded.  She had seen the news and knew that the two vampires
were likely still being hunted.  And if they were found, she and those
nearby would be in danger.

Lifting the black cooler bag in his hand, Metzger asked, "So, how much
blood is in here, anyway?"

Diane's eyes shifted to the bag.  Taking it, she answered, "Hopefully
more than enough."  Walking back into the bedroom, Diane placed the
bag on the chair she had been sitting in and unzipped the top.  Glad
to see two IV lines at the top, Diane took both out, along with two
bags of blood.

Metzger, looking at the two vampires as they slept, commented, "They
seem quite close."

Diane glanced toward the bed, but nothing had changed from when she
had first seen them there.  LaCroix still lay next to and slightly
beneath the other, Nick's head leaning back toward LaCroix.

Watching Diane's seemingly uncaring expression turn back to the bags
of blood, Metzger asked, "Don't you think it's a bit, well, weird?"

"Not really.  Nick had passed out and I don't think LaCroix is doing
much better; he wasn't awake for long," she told him, approaching the
side of the bed Nick lay on.  Setting half of her supplies down, she
quickly hooked the IV line into the bag of blood, adding, "And
remember, unless what's been reported on them is false, they're father
and son."

Metzger tensed as Diane took Nick's arm, turning it to reach his inner
forearm.  He looked away as she carefully stuck the needle in his arm,
taped it into place, and then set the bag of red liquid on his chest. 
When Diane took the other bag and, walking around to the other side of
the bed, inserted the IV line into the bag, he asked, "Are you sure
you should do that?" glancing momentarily toward LaCroix.

Diane said nothing.  Cautiously, she took LaCroix' right arm and
inserted the needle.  However, as she taped the line into place and
then turned LaCroix' arm back, his hand snaked sideways, catching her
by the wrist and causing her to gasp.

Now wide-awake, LaCroix opened his eyes to see fright in the mortal
woman's eyes.  The fear pleased him, and he released her arm.  LaCroix
relaxed, already starting to feel stronger as blood flowed slowly into
him.

"I didn't mean any harm," Diane whispered, worrying what his reaction
would be.  "I thought you were sleeping."

"I was."  Turning to fully face the woman, LaCroix told her, "Nicholas
needs the blood more than I do."

"I have plenty enough for both of you."  Diane stood and crossed the
room to the cooler bag.  "If you're tired, you should sleep.  I know I
need some."

"No," LaCroix hissed, carefully shifting out from under Nick and
sitting up.  "I want some answers."

"Such as?" Metzger asked, stepping forward to divert attention from
Diane.

"Why do you seem to be making an effort to help us?"

"Would you rather we not?"

LaCroix' eyes flashed a deep gold at the detective.

"Last week we were told that any vampires found were to be treated as
any human would be," Metzger stated.  "When we found you, you two were
the victims."

"And can we freely leave?" LaCroix asked, wanting to know these
mortals' intentions.

"Well, we can't stop you from leaving.  I mean, you're not under
arrest or anything...."

"But you would prefer that we stay."

Metzger glanced away for a second.  He had somewhat dreaded this topic
coming up.  While there was no official reason to ask them to stay,
there were advantages for both sides.  "Isn't it your best option?" he
asked, turning back to LaCroix.

LaCroix tried not to snarl at the mortal, fully aware that he and Nick
were safer here than if they left.  Even though the likeliness of
discovery was very high here, if a mortal went after them now, while
they were in this house under a sort of protective custody, they would
have to be insane.

Abruptly feeling a wave of tiredness, LaCroix looked away.  Seeing
Diane start forward, he met her gaze with a sharp glance and then lay
back down.  He quickly closed his eyes, not wanting to deal with these
mortals any more than necessary.


Downward Spiral - (21/27)

Waking late that morning after sleeping on the couch, Diane went to
check on Nick and LaCroix.  Earlier, she had stayed to give both of
them blood, stopping the IVs only when the blood started flowing more
slowly to each of them.

Now, looking into the room, she found LaCroix sleeping soundly in the
bedroom that the two vampires had been resting in.  Nick, however,
wasn't in the room.

Getting the bag she had the Compazine in, Diane stiffened when she
discovered a syringe was missing.  Nick must have already given
himself more of the drug.

Diane then froze as she turned around, noticing the bright sunlight
streaming into the hall from the other bedroom.  Quickly but
cautiously, she approached the doorway, a bit surprised to find Nick
standing just to the side of the open drapes.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Nick glanced toward
Diane.  He then forcefully yanked the drapes shut before letting his
eyes fully settle on her.

Nervous from the other's harsh action, Diane slowly stepped toward
Nick.  Much as when she introduced herself to LaCroix, she held out
her hand as she spoke, "I don't think I introduced myself earlier.
I'm--"

"Dr. Diane Reed," Nick interrupted, finishing for her.  "A cardiac
surgeon."

"Yes," she stiffly affirmed.  Then, curiously, she asked, "How did you
know?"

"The first I vaguely remember from listening to the conversation in
the hall last night."  Nick slowly walked over to a chair in the
corner of the room.  Although he felt like collapsing into it, Nick
carefully lowered himself, keeping his eyes on the woman.  "LaCroix
also told me earlier."

Completely unaware of the latter, she blurted out, "He was awake?"

"For some time, I believe."

Pausing, taking a few moments to think, Diane asked, "How long have
you been up?"

"Less than an hour."

Diane forced a pleasant smile as she commented, "You seem to be doing
better.  And you look much better."

"How much blood did you give me?"

"Seven units."

Nick closed his eyes and listened to both the woman's approaching
footsteps and heartbeat.  He was still so very hungry, her pulse
becoming louder by the second.  Realising he was focusing far too much
on the woman's blood, Nick opened his eyes and looked away, hoping the
bland sight of the far wall would somewhat distract his hunger.

"I saw that you took some more of the drug I gave you."

"Yes.  It's helping."  He slowly turned toward Diane, telling her,
"I'd have probably been quite ill from the blood by now if not for
it."

Sensing Nick was taking care what he told her despite the extra
information to his reply, she asked, "How much better are you,
really?"

Nick again looked away.  She wasn't going to back off.  "It's
difficult to stand for any length of time."  Then, meeting the woman's
curious expression, he added with a faint smile, "Overall, I feel
better than I did the last time I got a dose of their poison.  With
more blood, I think I'll be fine."

"There's more blood for when you want it.  I put the rest is in the
refrigerator," Diane said, gesturing behind her toward the hall.

Just as Nick prepared to answer, he heard a door open and then shut.
Someone had arrived--two mortals by the sounds of the added heart
beats.

Diane had also heard someone enter the house, and she stepped back
several steps.  Turning around, she left the room and headed toward
the commotion.  Approaching, she found Bryant and another man.  The
latter she was sure she had seen before, but her memory was sluggish
in telling her where.  "Bryant, what--"

"Where's Nick?" the man asked.

Diane didn't answer, taken back by the demanding tone of the man.
When he started past her and turned toward the hall, she went after
him only for Bryant to stop her.

"He is awake?" Bryant asked.

"Awake, yes, but he doesn't need any surprises."  At that, she started
toward the man and the room where she had left Nick.

Sensing a mortal's approach and having heard bits of conversation and
a somewhat familiar voice, Nick stood just in time to see Schanke
appear in the doorway.  He shook his head, eyes wide.  "You shouldn't
be here, Schanke."

"Probably not."  Schanke stepped into the room, quickly noticing a
familiar weakness in the other.  In fact, Nick looked worse.  "You
don't look as, er, well," he said, stumbling and changing his comment
part way through.

"Really?" Nick replied with a feeble hint of sarcasm.

Diane entered, stunned at the pleasantly amused appearance of Nick's
face.  He clearly both knew this man and felt comfortable around him. 
Looking to the man, however, she noticed he didn't seem at all at
ease.  And then, seeing the two together, it hit her who she was
looking at.  The man was Detective Donald Schanke, and had been Nick's
partner in Toronto.

Schanke watched as Nick's enthusiasm faded, seemingly overcome by
something else.  Approaching Nick, he asked, "What happened?"  When
Nick didn't show any signs of wanting to answer, he turned to the
woman.  "I'd like to talk to Nick alone, if you wouldn't mind?"

Diane stiffened, sensing this wasn't a question, but a demand.
Reluctantly, she nodded and left.  After all, she already knew what
had happened.

Once the woman left, Schanke turned and walked to the door, shutting
it.  Turning around, Schanke watched as Nick's facade melted.  He went
to help Nick sit down, but Nick had already taken the step backward
toward the chair and practically fell into it.

"All I know about what happened is that Austin Police found you and
LaCroix while they were hoping to arrest several ex-IVEA agents, and
that you had been attacked."

"Then you pretty much know what happened."

"Pretty much?"  Schanke could barely believe that Nick seemed to be
trying to say as little about what happened as he could.  "Come on,
Nick, spill it."

Nick looked away, telling the other, "You really shouldn't be here."

"I care what happens to you, Nick."  Then, with a slight shrug, he
added, "Myra said it was fine and, actually, it was Cohen that
suggested I come...."

Nick turned sharply back.  "Cohen?"

"Yeah, thought it'd be good for me.  Myra agreed.  Cohen practically
bought my ticket; she put me on mandatory 'vacation'.  Nilson, he was
arrested about a week ago.  He was on the IVEA's payroll.  You should
have seen it; it was right at change of shift, right as I was getting
there.  At first, he was shocked; then he darted.  So, no more
partner."

Stunned, Nick half-digested Schanke's reply, filing the rest away.
"How did you get them to let you come here?" Nick then asked,
gesturing to the room's door.

"Now that wasn't easy.  You can thank your and LaCroix' mood for that
one; I think they let me come here because of knowing you better."
Schanke paused, adding, "And don't think this means I'm here to help
them get more from you.  And don't tell me to leave, either.  I can
see how weak you are.  And you're probably going to exhaust yourself
trying to hide it."

Firmly meeting Schanke's gaze, Nick replied, "I'm not going to tell
you to leave.  It's not what I want."

"It isn't?"

"No."  Nick managed a smile.  "You might want to sit down, Schanke,"
he said.  Then, once Schanke had done so, Nick began to explain
exactly what happened to him and LaCroix.  He explained the attack and
also what had happened since.

When Nick finished, Schanke was a bit stunned that Nick was as
coherent as he was.  But then, Nick had also admitted that he barely
remembered anything about waking up earlier, so perhaps Nick wasn't as
well as he seemed?

"I'll be fine, Schanke," Nick said, again forcing a smile.  "I've
managed to live this long; I don't think you have to worry that I'm
going to suddenly keel over."

Schanke nodded, pleased to at least see that Nick seemed to be
relaxing.  Nick would be fine, even if he wasn't right now.  Arguing
about it wasn't going to change anything.  "So," Schanke started, then
asked, "What do you think about what happened last week?  I think it's
bad, but at least it draws attention away from you a little."

Nick tensed.  What had happened last week?  It had been more than a
week since either he or LaCroix had last seen or heard the news.

"You have checked out the news, haven't you?"

Shaking his head, Nick answered, "Not...recently.  What happened?"

"Well, you know how the IVEA would put up information when they had
killed a vampire?  Well, they apparently decided that since they
couldn't legally hunt you guys anymore that they'd expose as many
vampires as possible.  Probably every name and all the information on
every vampire they know or suspect...Nick, it's all been made public."

Stunned, Nick swallowed, his gaze drifting to the floor.  "How many?"

"Ah, a couple of hundred.  Two-seventy something, I think."  Schanke
paused, then rambled a little, starting, "Can't imagine it's the best
for the vampires mentioned, though.  I mean, can't exactly try and go
incognito, can they?"

Nick shook his head.  If they weren't already trying to hide and stay
out of view, they now would be.  "And what's the overall reaction?"

"Actually, it just gave the FBI another reason to find as many ex-IVEA
agents as possible.  They didn't much like having information they
hadn't seen plastered up for all.  They've, ah, actually tried getting
into contact with several of your kind, but with little success."

Nick abruptly turned his attention back to Schanke, a bit worried.
"What do you mean?"

Schanke shifted.  "Well, for the most part, your kind are avoiding
them.  Two vampires were questioned, though.  Unsuccessfully."  Seeing
Nick's concern jump up even further, he explained, "The FBI isn't
releasing information on what they were questioned about.  It looks
like they didn't get their questions answered, and the two were
released, vanishing."

"So they want a vampire that will, willingly, cooperate with them?"

"That's my guess."

Nick looked toward the door, hearing one of the mortals pause as they
passed by.  Once sure the other had left, he asked, "What have they
told you about what they plan to do with me and LaCroix?  Anything?"

Schanke shook his head.  "Nada.  Absolutely zip."

"But?" Nick prodded.  "I'm sure you didn't leave it at that."

"I did ask if they were going to detain either of you.  The answer to
that was no; you and LaCroix are supposedly free to go whenever you
decide to leave."

"LaCroix told me they seemed to want us to stay.  Cited it as the
'best option.'  And while that is true, I wonder if they realise the
danger it might put them in?  Those hunting us are bound to know I'm
still alive by now."

"Yeah," Schanke whispered after a few moments, his attention drifting.
"Yeah, but the question is what are they going to do?"  Looking back
at Nick, he asked with calm seriousness, "And what are you going to
do?"

Nick firmly met Schanke's gaze.  He honestly hadn't decided.  "For
now, stay here.  But--"  Nick turned sharply toward the door, just as
someone knocked on it.

Before either man had a chance to either verbally respond or stand,
Diane pushed the door open.  "Detective Schanke?  Bryant wants to
introduce you to his partner and the other officers staying here,
since everyone's up."

Schanke gave a shrug to Nick as he stood.  "I'll be back," he said and
headed after Diane.

Once Schanke had left, Nick shifted so he could reach the curtain
behind him.  Leaning his head back, he tilted the drape forward.
Hearing LaCroix approach, he commented, "Avoiding the mortals,
LaCroix?"  Releasing the drape, Nick turned toward the door just as
LaCroix stepped into the room from the hall.

"Perhaps."  Slowly approaching, his eyes fully focused on a unit of
blood in one hand.  Meeting the younger man's eyes, LaCroix held the
bag of blood out toward Nick.  He smiled as Nick took the blood.
"From the kitchen.  As is this," LaCroix said, handing a glass tumbler
out as well.

Nick took the glass as well, one hand wrapped firmly around it as the
other fingered the bag of blood.

"I knew you wouldn't get any for yourself."

"Thank you, LaCroix," Nick whispered.

LaCroix walked over to the curtain, pulling one half slightly to the
side.  He didn't like how quiet it was outside.  As light streamed
between them, LaCroix commented, "I heard your partner's voice....
I'm surprised he would come."

"I'm not."

Releasing the curtain, LaCroix turned sharply toward Nick.  "Really?" 
When Nick glared at him, he smirked.  "Yes, he would come, wouldn't
he?  Stubborn, much like you."

"And you," Nick added.

Initially taking the comment as an angry stab, LaCroix' eyes began to
narrow.  But seeing a faint smile, he returned it.  The younger man
was in a very good mood, it seemed; likely due to his partner
arriving.

Nick played with the glass, turning it randomly in his hand.
"LaCroix, we aren't the only living vampires with our identities
revealed.  It happened last week.  Ex-IVEA did it."  Nick turned
toward the window, staring at the bits of light still streaming in
from where LaCroix had moved the curtains.  "Schanke told me.  It's
been on the news, I take it."

LaCroix' anger rose quickly.  Had the mortals believed they knew about
this?  Or had they kept it from them?  Although it was likely the
first given that they hadn't been there long or spoken with them much,
he wanted to know more about this new altercation.  What did it mean
for them?  He quickly turned and, walking quickly to the door, left
the room and headed to the main room, where he knew there was a
television.  He would rather get his answers there than from these
mortals.

Nick's attention flitted toward the door a moment, then back to the
bag of blood in his hand.  It was no longer quite as chilled as when
LaCroix had handed it to him, but it was far from the warm, fresh
blood he had become accustomed to the last couple of months.


Downward Spiral - (22/27)

Two nights later, the house lay nearly empty--just the local mortals
remained.  Nick knew LaCroix had left the house to obtain fresher
blood, although when asked he had merely told the detectives LaCroix
had wanted some fresh air.

Soon after, Schanke had suggested that Nick do the same.  Nick,
however, had no wish to hunt.  Granted, Schanke likely wasn't aware
that's what LaCroix was doing.  But, Nick agreed that he should, as he
was tired of being stuck in this house, and asked Schanke to accompany
him.

Agreeing, Schanke was unprepared to be pulled into the air the instant
they had exited the house.  He shut his eyes, not opening them until
he felt solid ground beneath him.  "Where are we?"

"About a mile from the house."

Eyes wide, Schanke could barely believe it.  Nowhere near enough time
had passed for them to travel that far, had it?  "A mile?  But...."
Schanke just shook his head.  Nick didn't really need to say anything.
"So," he started as he stepped toward and, after a few seconds, met
even with Nick's steps, he asked, "Vampires like to take walks?"

"It's better than sitting in that house all night."

"Yeah, probably."  They walked for about half a block before Schanke
commented, "Bryant doesn't seem to like either you or LaCroix much."

"No.  We've been trying to avoid him."

"And he you, I noticed.  You don't think he's...well...."

"No, he's not a hunter.  He would have shot one of us if he were a
hunter instead of waving his weapon.  He just feels nervous around
us."

Schanke considered what Nick said and his oddly calm and certain tone.
"You're not surprised by it."

"Not really.  I'm more surprised by the woman."

"Dr. Reed?  She's what, friendly and doesn't seem at all put aback by
what you--"

"She's frightened, Schanke."

Schanke stopped.  "Frightened?" he asked, wondering where that had
come from.  From what he had seen of the doctor's interactions with
Nick and LaCroix over the past two days, she seemed very certain in
her actions.  Catching back up, he asked, "Nick, she went straight for
your arm tonight, no hesitation."

"And I told her very clearly that I had had enough of her drug," Nick
softly hissed.  "And in case you haven't noticed, she's stayed away
after that.  I even finally got her to leave."  Closing his eyes a
moment, Nick explained, "The only reason she was helping was because
of her training as a doctor.  But she was frightened, Schanke.  Afraid
of what either myself or LaCroix could or possibly would do to her."

Schanke didn't comment, noticing Nick visibly stiffen, his pace
quickening.  Nick was right, though, he supposed.  He had seen her
fear when Nick had insisted that he was fine, even a hint of anger.
And if Nick wanted nothing to do with the woman, it was fine with him.

They walked silently for a couple minutes.  Just as they reached
another street, Schanke asked, "So, you really feeling better like you
said earlier?"

"Better, yes."

"You're still nauseous?"

"Just a little queasy.  Nothing I need to be drugged for."

Schanke thought about that, but his mind quickly flashed back to Nick
wincing as he sipped from a glass of blood.  He had noticed it the
night before, and passed it off.  But Nick had done it again that
evening, shortly before they left.  Carefully prodding, Schanke
stated, "But the blood still bothers you."

Nick halted mid-step, just long enough to put Schanke off his gait and
give the other a glance.  He didn't think Schanke would have noticed
anything like that, but he apparently did.  "It's not what you think,"
he commented, continuing down the sidewalk.  "Schanke, there's nothing
wrong with the blood.  I'm fine, too."

"But you..." Schanke started, trying to think of a good way to
describe Nick's reaction.  A couple seconds later, he said, "Well, it
was like you...flinched, as if it was a bad taste or something."

Nick looked away, focusing on the yards of the homes they were walking
by, barely even looking where he was going.  Although he didn't
particularly want to talk to Schanke about the taste of blood, it
would perhaps get the point across that they were very different.  As
much as he liked Schanke coming, he wasn't sure he felt like talking.

"Nick?"

Giving a short glance to Schanke, Nick finally answered, "It tasted a
bit...stale."

"Stale?" Schanke asked.  "What, you mean like it's old?"

"Not really."  Nick closed his eyes, taking in a breath.  Then,
quickly, he explained, "Until a couple of days ago, the last time I
had donated blood was before you last saw me.  Since, LaCroix and I
have been drinking...very fresh blood."

It took Schanke a second to process what Nick meant by stale donated
blood and what else that meant.  The opposite of stale and donated was
fresh...and forcibly taken.  He tried not to think about it and asked,
"So it tastes different?  It depends on how, ah, fresh the blood is?"

"Yeah, it's different.  It's far easier to switch to a fresher supply
of blood than switch back."  Then, after a moment, Nick asked, "You do
realise this means I've killed, Schanke.  And not years or centuries
ago, but within the past month."

Shifting uncomfortably, Schanke replied, "Yeah, I kinda gathered
that."  He figured Nick had probably killed recently--while working he
had seen some recent cases where the victim had likely been killed by
a vampire--but he hadn't considered what he would say to or ask Nick. 
"But you guys didn't really have much choice, did you?"

"We had a choice, Schanke!  We could have only killed animals or taken
only a fraction of what we needed from several humans.  Killing
mortals for blood wasn't our only choice!"

"But it was the best option, wasn't it?" Schanke asked.  Nick,
however, didn't answer him and they returned to walking silently.  He
had thought about this, too, and he knew that the other options Nick
mentioned would have provided more victims.  Not only would it have
made vampires look worse, but it would probably also make them easier
to trace.  "You don't have to say anything, Nick.  I know you don't
like killing.  And while I don't really like that you had to do that,
it's better than starving to death, I guess, right?"

After they had passed several more houses, Nick whispered, "I'm
honestly not sure anymore, Schanke."

"Not sure?  What do you mean?  Not sure about what?"

"I'm not sure what I think of killing.  I felt...different about it
this time.  Apathetic."

Schanke swallowed.  Was Nick trying to say that he didn't care
anymore?  "Why?"

"Hunger, possibly.  And the last...the woman was a hunter.  I wanted
to kill her, Schanke, I--"  Nick cut off as he heard movement in the
yard they were passing.  He couldn't see a thing through the bushes,
but he could hear the heartbeats of several mortals.  They were only a
few feet away and closing.  He hadn't been paying enough attention to
his surroundings.  The movement distracted him enough that he missed
the approaching van--which pulled right up to the curb with a screech
of brakes.  He reached out toward Schanke, hoping to fly them both
away, but three mortals burst out of the bushes.  He froze as one
pushed Schanke to his knees, a gun held to the back of his head.

As another three mortals got out of the van, one of them said to Nick,
"Back away from him."

Nick hesitated a second, but did as told.  He had no choice,
especially as one of the men from the van also aimed his weapon on
Schanke.  If he moved, Schanke was dead.  How had he missed it?  But
he knew how, he wasn't paying attention.

"Now, kneel and put your hands on the back of your head," the man
continued.

Nick obeyed and he was handcuffed, with his hands being pulled behind
him.  "You think handcuffs will hold me?"

"Those might."  The man then turned to Schanke.  "You, too.  Hands
behind your head."

Schanke felt cuffs snap around his wrists, but unlike Nick, his hands
hadn't been moved.  As soon as he was cuffed, one of the men quickly
searched Nick and found nothing.

The man turned back to Nick.  "Get up and get in the back of the van. 
Resist and your friend dies."

Nick closed his eyes, not budging.

"Don't do it, Nick.  I'm not--"

"Shut up!" one of the men yelled at Schanke.  "Say another word and
you'll get a gag."

"You have five seconds or he dies.  Five, four, three--"

Nick stood.  Standing in place a moment, he walked slowly toward the
van, feeling a gun poke him into his back a couple of times.  When he
paused upon reaching the back of the van, one of the men grabbed his
arm, pushing him into the van, at which another man, still inside,
pulled him inside.  He felt a needle slide into his arm and he saw an
IV drip hanging from the side of the van as the need to sleep
overwhelmed him almost immediately.

Schanke tried standing as three of the men got back in the van.  As it
sped off, one of the remaining men kept him on his knees.  Then, he
too was searched, at which they took his badge and wallet.

Another vehicle pulled up, this time a car, and the other three men
got in, leaving Schanke kneeling on the sidewalk, still handcuffed.

As soon as the car left, Schanke was up on his feet and headed across
the street to the nearest house.  He banged on the front door until
the lights flipped on and someone came to the door.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

By the time Schanke arrived back at the house, he knew the men who
took Nick were likely long gone.  He had nothing useful to tell the
local detectives.  The vehicle's license plates had been covered, and
both the van and the car weren't unusual enough to be useful.

And, despite being picked up fairly quickly by Sean Metzger, LaCroix
was already pacing angrily by the time Schanke returned.  As he
related what happened while the handcuffs were removed, Schanke did
all he could to avoid LaCroix' accusing gaze.  LaCroix blamed him.
And he couldn't shake it off, as LaCroix was right.  If he hadn't been
with Nick, this wouldn't have happened.  Nick would have been able to
escape.

Schanke's mind went blank as the two detective's discussed calling the
station and working on finding out where Nick might have been taken.
Once alone with LaCroix, Schanke focused on the other man, watching
the vampire turn purposefully away from him.

Walking to the door, Schanke pushed it shut.  Turning back to find
LaCroix' eyes on him, he was sure the faint gold tinge to the other
man's gaze was anger.  Walking back toward LaCroix, Schanke prodded,
"Why are you still here?  I mean, can't you do something?  Janette
mentioned something....  You can sense him, right?  Can't you, I don't
know, tell where he is?"

LaCroix looked away.

Whether LaCroix simply didn't want to talk or he was helpless to do
anything, Schanke knew he'd already said more than enough.  "I'm going
to go see what the others are planning to do," Schanke mentioned as he
left the room.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Groggily, Nick slowly woke to find himself in a plain but dark room.
Light filtered in through the barred door, just enough to see that,
other than himself, there was nothing else in the room.  Absolutely
nothing.  His hands were no longer cuffed, at least.

Quickly regaining his strength, he sat up.  This time, he had merely
been put to sleep.  He felt no more nauseous now than when he had been
walking with Schanke.  Thinking about that, he tensed.  Where was
Schanke?  Had they let him go or did they keep him?  If they had done
the latter, it was probably to force him to cooperate.  He hoped that
wasn't the case, but given that Schanke could identify the men that
had taken him, he wasn't sure.

Hearing the approach of several mortals, Nick got to his feet just as
they arrived.

"You're awake, good."

Nick vaguely recognised the man that spoke, sure he had seen this man
on the news at some point.  "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Mark Evans.  Your partner was quite loyal when we questioned him in
Toronto.  He managed to lie to us."

Ignoring the reference, Nick narrowed his eyes.  "Why bring me here?"
he hissed, then let them see his fangs.  "You would have been better
off killing me.  You've had plenty of chances."

"For now, you're more useful alive."  Evans smiled.  "A couple of
notes for when you wake up later....  The door will shock you if you
touch it, so I'd suggest staying back.  If you disregard that
suggestion, your friend will be harmed."

Nick tensed.  The man held up Schanke's badge for him to see.  It just
made his anger flare more, and he took a step closer.

"I'd stay back."  Evans nodded to the left.  As he stepped to the
side, another man, some kind of security guard, walked into view with
a handgun pointed at him.  "Besides, you don't have time for that."

The door slid open and the man fired.  Nick knew he had no chance of
making it out as the second bullet hit him.  A third shot and he fell
to his knees.  With the fourth shot, he was unconscious.

A man wearing a lab coat approached, to which Evans ordered, "Get
several vials of blood from him, quickly."

The doctor followed the guard into the room, the latter approaching
Nick with his gun pointed firmly on the vampire.

"If he moves, shoot him again."

Once the doctor obtained four full vials of Nick's blood, he stood and
left.

The other man hesitated a second, then slowly walked around Nick.
Glancing behind him to make sure the door was squarely behind him, the
guard abruptly gasped in pain.  He felt pressure on his neck and found
he couldn't speak.  And with his arm twisted, he could no longer hold
onto his weapon, which fell to the ground.

Several shots were fired which, while again disabling Nick, also
killed the guard.

Evans, still holding his weapon, stepped into the room.

"You didn't have to kill him!" the doctor exclaimed.

"He would have died, anyway.  Just look at him!  He had been bitten."

The doctor looked down at the guard, realising that Evans was right.
On the guard's neck was a rough and bloody wound and, next to it, two
far cleaner puncture marks.

"Get him out of here," Evans ordered, gesturing to the guard.

"Me?  But--"

"Just pull him out into the hall."  Eyes not leaving Nick, Evans
watched the other reluctantly do as told.  Once the guard had been
moved out of the cell, he continued, "And now you're going to sedate
Brabant."

"I need him awake, you know that.  I need his blood as free from--"

"Then sedate him lightly.  Do it however you want, just make sure he
is weakened enough to control him or you'll be his next meal."

Nodding, the doctor excused himself to his office, mentioning he
needed to get supplies.

Evans quickly switched out the clip in his gun just as another guard
arrived.  "Get in here and watch him!" he yelled.  As the other
approached, he said, "If he breathes, shoot him.  Do not hesitate.
And I wouldn't let your attention waver."

Stepping into the hall, Evans glanced down at the dead guard for a
second, and then pulled out a two-way radio.  He called for the rest
of security to meet him; mainly to deal with the body, but also so
that when Frank returned to sedate Brabant, he could ensure there
wouldn't be a repeat of events.

As he waited, Evans saw movement out of the corner of his eye.  In the
next room over, their other guest was awake and had been watching him.
That's all they needed--giving encouragement to the other one.  In his
mind, they should have both been killed by now.  Especially Brabant,
who didn't seem to want to give up like the others they had brought
here.


Downward Spiral - (23/27)

Late morning, well after the sun had risen, LaCroix had left the
mortals upon sensing Nick.  Detective Schanke had already gone with
the two local detectives to their precinct with the intention of
trying to help.  He had remained behind despite Schanke's prodding
that he should come with him, both because the sun had risen and
because he had no wish to be surrounded by mortals.

Then, when he had sensed his son was awake, he had immediately left
the house.  But the bright daylight impeded his effort far more than
he wished.  That, and he hadn't gotten a clear fix on Nick before the
other again weakened.  All he could sense was a muddled, vague feeling
that told him little more than that his son was alive, but not where.

He had searched for two hours, hoping that Nick would strengthen
again, but so far there was no sign of that happening.  With
reluctance, LaCroix realised that for now he could do nothing on his
own.  Once night fell, he could perhaps try to find the other; but for
now, it was futile.

LaCroix considered returning to the house, but instead he decided to
find the precinct where the mortals had gathered.  Perhaps they had
discovered something he could use?  After taking a moment to recall
snippets of conversation he had heard between the mortals, he
unenthusiastically found a phone book to look up the location.
Travelling during the day was not pleasant, and he had no wish to
wander around this city any longer than was needed.

Fifteen minutes later, arriving at his destination LaCroix carefully
avoided as many of the mortals as possible as he headed toward
Detective Schanke's voice.  He nearly reached him when he caught
another detective's gaze lingering on him.

"Surprised to see you here," Bryant barked.  "From what we heard, you
had left."

"Really?" LaCroix asked, turning his attention away from Bryant and
onto several other, unknown detectives, who seemed rather nervous upon
having his attention shifted unexpectedly to them.

Schanke stopped what he was doing, a bit surprised to see LaCroix
there.  From what he gathered, LaCroix had left to find Nick.  And if
he was here, then....  Gently, but insistently, Schanke took LaCroix
by the arm and led him away from and out of earshot of the others.

LaCroix fought the urge to yank his arm free from the mortal, but the
morning had already tired him enough that he didn't bother.  At least
it kept him from having to answer the other mortals' questions.

"You don't...well," Schanke started, but the other merely glared at
him.  "Nick's okay, right?"

"He is alive."

Schanke stiffened at the simple and almost indifferent comment.  "But
what?"

"I cannot locate him."  LaCroix looked away, sending a glare at
several of the mortals that were staring at him.  "When I sensed him
earlier, he was far stronger and awake."

"And now?"

Ignoring the question, LaCroix simply stated, "He must be found soon. 
These mortals will kill him the instant he is no longer of use to
them."

Schanke swallowed.  Somewhat hesitant, he told LaCroix in a whisper,
"The police here have been working with the FBI to track down rouge
ex-IVEA agents and others that have joined them.  They've been
tracking the movements of several groups in the area, and they know
one of them went after you and Nick.  They don't know where Nick was
taken, but do know that he wasn't taken far.  A couple hundred miles,
tops."

"He's not in the city."

"So you can sense him?" Schanke carefully prodded, lowering his voice
even further.  "I mean, right now?"

"Faintly."  LaCroix smirked, just for a second, but it quickly
vanished.  "But only enough to know that Nicholas is not in the
immediate area."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

As Nick woke, his surroundings slowly brightened into a blurry mass.
After a couple of minutes the fuzziness faded, but his tiredness
remained.  All he could see was the empty back corner of the room.

Trying to sit up, Nick discovered he was too weak.  It took much
effort to turn his head the other way, but he managed it after a
couple of attempts.  Once he had, he immediately tried to pull away,
finding a mortal, clearly some sort of doctor, kneeling next to him.

"Hold him still!" said the doctor who had seen Nick earlier, shouting
to one of the security guards.

Nick struggled, but he still couldn't move.  He felt the mortal hold
his shoulders down.  Nick hissed up at the man, his fangs clearly
visible.  Feeling an ache from his right arm, he shifted his gaze just
as the doctor stood, holding a syringe and a full unit of blood in one
hand, a needle and several vials in the other.

Nick didn't even feel the other man release him, his eyes following
the two as they left the cell and closed the door.  He relaxed
somewhat once he was alone, although he felt uncomfortable lying
there, unable to do anything.  He felt no better now than he did as he
woke mere minutes earlier.

Looking away, less than five minutes later Nick was startled when he
heard something tossed in at him.  Turning back to the barred door, he
saw the doctor walking away.  After several tries, Nick managed to
shift far enough to the side to see what had been tossed in:  It was a
unit of blood.  Human blood, if his senses were accurate.  But was it
some trick?  Was it drugged?  Poisoned?

He managed to ignore the blood for a good quarter of an hour, his
attention fixed firmly on the ceiling.  But he was hungry.  Given that
they seemed to want him for his blood, the unit of blood was likely
not poisoned; they appeared to need him alive.  And, as he suspected
they had already drugged him, he reached for the blood.

And then, once he had the bag in his hands, he brought it to his lips
and bit into one corner.  Testing a few drops of the liquid--far
fresher than he had expected to taste--he felt a momentary surge of
energy and emptied the rest of the bag as fast as he could manage.

But it didn't help.  It dimmed his hunger--for the moment.  But he
still felt just as weak as he had before.

All he could do was lie there, completely still, and try to conserve
what little strength he had.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

LaCroix had stayed at the precinct, both out of need and lack of other
options.  The sun was still shining bright in the sky and would be for
several more hours.

He had listened in on the mortals over the past couple of hours, but
he learned only one thing; the mortals had no idea where Nick was.
They had a list of possible locations, yes.  But short of trying every
single one of them, they had nowhere to start.  And if they picked the
wrong first location, it could tip the hunters off if they were as
well organised as was believed.  Besides, he had trouble believing
these mortals genuinely wanted to find his son.

Sliding away from the mortals, LaCroix closed his eyes and leaned
against the wall, trying to block everything out.  All of the mortals
and all of their noise...even Nick.  But when he did, he felt his son
nearly as strong as he had that morning.  He was awake, but still
weak.

Schanke, who had watched LaCroix retreat mere moments before, saw the
vampire stiffen.  Stepping away from the others as well, Schanke
prodded, "LaCroix?"

"I know where Nicholas is," LaCroix answered, his eyes snapping open.

It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, Schanke
whispered, "You can sense him?"

"Yes."

"And Nick, he's...?"

"Alive, yes.  And awake."

Sensing LaCroix' hesitation to say more, Schanke started back toward
the table the local detectives were still gathered around.  He took
merely a single step before he turned back and took LaCroix' arm,
urging him to follow.  While light grip was instantly brushed off, he
did catch a nod from LaCroix, which he returned.  Schanke then stepped
over to the table, pushing one of the detectives aside with a shooing
motion.  "Move, move," he mumbled, searching the table for the list of
locations.  Spying the piece of paper, he snatched it and turned
around, handing it to LaCroix.  "Is it enough to narrow this list down
more?"

LaCroix scanned the locations.  The detectives had already crossed out
any location either in the city of Austin or within a half hour's
drive.  And that left seven more possibilities within two hundred
miles.  Again closing his eyes, this time he focused solely on Nick.
He turned, slightly, until he felt his son the strongest.  The younger
man was certainly not in the immediate area, but he couldn't be too
far away.  "That way," he said as he nodded to indicate ahead of him.

Caught off-guard by the words, no one immediately spoke.  After a few
seconds, a local detective replied, "That's northeast, I think...."
He walked over and took the paper from LaCroix, quickly scanning the
list.  Only one of the addresses was northeast of the city, and
looking up, he told the others, "It's the third address."

Another of the men, an FBI agent, pulled the list from the detective's
hand.  He shook his head.  "Wouldn't have checked there first, that's
for sure."  He dropped the paper back onto the table, detailing, "It's
a small building, not high on the list of possibilities.  We haven't
seen much activity there for several weeks."

"But it's probably ideal," Metzger whispered.  "In a virtually
unpopulated area, yet only an hour's drive from here."

No one spoke or moved for a long moment, at which Schanke found he
couldn't just stand there.  "So, are we waiting for something?"

"Well," the FBI agent started, explaining, "There's only seven of us
here, eight if you count Mr. LaCroix--"

"I'm not letting Nick sit there longer than necessary."  Schanke
turned and gave a nod to LaCroix, then started toward the exit.

Bryant stopped Schanke, and then turned his attention back to the FBI
agent.  "It's a small facility, right?  That's what you told us last
week, before any of this was a concern."  Releasing Schanke, he
stepped around the table and faced the FBI agent.  "You said there
were no guards outside the building."

"Yes, but there are security cameras on the property and we do not
know what is inside the building.  Nor how many people are inside, or
how many are armed.  We'd be blind idiots trying to--"

"Even with LaCroix helping us?" Schanke interrupted.  He then turned
toward LaCroix and raised his eyebrows slightly, hoping that LaCroix
would, indeed, help.  Receiving an almost mischievous smile, Schanke
tensed slightly, wondering just what LaCroix had in mind.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Evans cursed as he arrived in the security room.  Outside, three
vehicles had pulled up.  He watched the screen just long enough to see
a nearly covered figure slip out of a van.  Suspecting it was likely
LaCroix, as the vampire had been left with the Austin police, he
cursed again and then told the security guard, "Notify the others to
kill both of our guests.  Then go to the lab and help Frank destroy
his records."

Making his way as quickly as he could to the other end of the
building, Evans arrived at Nick's cell just as three men exited the
other vampire's cell and walked toward him.  "Is it done?"

"He's dust," one man replied.  "There's still Brabant, though."

Evans nodded as he followed the three inside Nick's cell.  He then
watched as they walked purposely toward the vampire, who was clearly
awake and trying to move away from the guards.

Nick hissed at the mortals as he tried to get up, but he hadn't even
managed to roll onto his side before they pinned him, facedown, to the
floor.  One of the mortals' grips slipped, and he hit the man as hard
as he could only to have his arm pulled sharply back.  Then, he felt a
sudden and sharp pain at the back of his neck, then nothing.

The four men stood still for nearly a minute, waiting.  But, unlike
their other victim, who burned to ashes half a minute after being
killed, nothing happened.  One of the men reached down and, taking
Nick's shoulder, rolled him over onto his back.

"Leave him," Evans ordered.

"But he hasn't--"

"It's done!  He'll turn to dust sooner or later."  He nodded toward
the hall, making it clear the conversation was over.  Once in the
hall, he looked to two of the men, telling them, "Go to the lab and
help Frank."  Switching his attention to the remaining man, he said,
"Destroy the security tapes if you can."

Knowing full well that none of them would be able to slip out of the
building, Evans headed toward his office, which was in the same
direction as the entrance.  Turning the corner, he found that LaCroix
and several other men had already entered the building.  Although they
were armed, he didn't bother going for his gun, as it would only give
them a reason to shoot and possibly kill him.  He stiffened, keeping
his gaze firm and purposeful even as the vampire's eyes flashed deep
red in anger.

LaCroix wasted no time, flying forward and shoving the mortal hard
against the wall behind him.  Having felt a wave of pain from Nick
moments earlier--and now nothing--LaCroix tightly gripped the man's
neck and demanded, "Where is he?"

"Dead," Evans stated hoarsely, only managing to get the one word out.

Hearing that, Schanke and Metzger slipped by LaCroix and headed to
find Nick.

Bryant, seeing that LaCroix was showing no sign of stopping and seeing
that the man's face was taking on a purplish tinge, stepped forward,
telling him, voice slightly raised, "Kill him and...well, I don't know
what will happen other than that I doubt it will be good for your
kind."

LaCroix shut his eyes, trying to avoid lashing out at the detective.
Infuriated, he roughly released Evans, only for the half-choking
mortal to send a satisfied glare at him.  Without warning, LaCroix
grabbed the man's arm, pulling him away from the wall, and then,
turning him, forcibly twisted his arm back while shoving him back
toward the wall.

Unwillingly, Evans cried out in pain as the bones in his forearm
broke.

LaCroix ignored the mortal and the foul curses now being directed at
him, his gaze drifting down the hall where Schanke and another
detective had just disappeared around another corner.  Meeting
Bryant's somewhat shocked gaze for a split second, he then headed
after the other two, hoping they were heading the right direction as
he heard one set of footsteps suddenly stop.

Further into the building, Schanke and Metzger had found their way to
a short hallway with two cells on one side.  Surprisingly, they hadn't
run into anyone else.  Reaching the first cell, Schanke stopped upon
seeing Nick lying on his back, seemingly unconscious, and Metzger
continued to the other cell.

Slowly, Schanke stepped into the room, sensing something was wrong.
The door was open and Nick was too still.  Going to him, Schanke knelt
next to Nick, his eyes darting to the deep-red blood pooled on the
floor at the base of Nick's head.  Gently, he half-rolled Nick onto
his side.  Seeing a metal grip connected to what looked like a thin
piece of metal slicing into Nick's skin and likely well into his neck,
he felt sick.  Did this count as decapitation?

Coming from the other room, Metzger said, "There's a dusting of ashes
and a near-circular metal blade in the other cell.  No occupants.  I--
"  Metzger froze as he entered Nick's cell, seeing what looked like
the blade he had seen in the other room embedded into Nick's neck.
"I'm going to see if that ambulance the FBI insisted on is here yet." 
Metzger left, not meeting LaCroix' gaze as he passed the vampire
several yards down the hall.

LaCroix slowed as he approached.  He had not expected to find his son
like this, not even with the mortal's statement.  Nor even with the
lack of the other's presence.

Schanke stepped out of the way as LaCroix knelt, watching as the
vampire gently touched Nick's face.  "Is Nick, ah...."

LaCroix ignored the unfinished question.  Touching the drops of blood
clinging to the younger vampire's neck, he tasted it and sensed a hint
of lingering life.  The blade, perhaps, hadn't been in long enough to
kill.  Immediately, he reached for the metal grip and unceremoniously
yanked it out, letting it fall to the floor with a sharp clang.

Stepping forward as LaCroix rolled Nick back onto his back, Schanke
asked, "Can you help him?"  He stiffened as, while the other didn't
look at him, he heard others approaching.  From Metzger's voice, he
suspected it was the paramedics.  More insistently, he prodded,
"LaCroix?  What--"

Just as the mortal paramedics arrived in the room accompanied by
Detective Metzger, LaCroix turned to face Schanke.  When the newcomers
approached, LaCroix sent a bright golden glare at the two mortals,
warning them back.

"What does Nick need?" Schanke asked, getting LaCroix to turn back to
him.  "Blood, right?"

LaCroix turned back to Nick, aware what Schanke was going to suggest. 
His son would get more than enough blood if he allowed these mortals
to help.  But all he wanted to do was to take his son and leave.

"LaCroix?"

Abruptly, LaCroix turned and stood, his icy gaze locked onto the
paramedics' nervous faces.  He approached them and watched as they
shrank back from him.  "You do nothing to him without my permission!"
he hissed, then stepped to the side, leaving the path from them to
Nick open.

The two, one man and one woman, both hesitated several seconds before
going to the other man.  The young man checked for Nick's vital signs,
of which he found none, while the woman started to give him blood.

Seeing the woman reach for a bag of saline, LaCroix told them, "You
give him blood and nothing more."

Both paramedics paused, the man replying, "He's not breathing, has no
pulse, and you--"

"At least allow a saline IV and oxygen," the woman suggested.  "I
doubt either will hurt him."

LaCroix glanced away.  "Fine.  But you give him nothing else."

Standing off to the side, Schanke was tense from the firm tone of
LaCroix' voice.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Detective
Metzger motioning toward the door.  Somewhat reluctantly, Schanke
followed Metzger into the hall, where they then met one of the FBI
agents.

The agent held out Schanke's badge and wallet, telling Schanke, "We
found these in Evans' office."

"Thanks," Schanke said, taking the items and putting them away.  When
the agent gave no sign of leaving, he snapped, "And?"

"Would you come with me, Detective?"

Schanke stiffened, about to protest, but the agent gripped his arm
first, starting him down the hall.  He glanced back toward Metzger,
but the detective didn't follow.

"I assure you, this is nothing to worry about."  Just as the other was
about to speak, he continued, "We'll talk outside."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Schanke stated, but let the other
lead him outside and away from the others.

Once they were standing in the late afternoon sun, just a few feet
from the ambulance, the agent assured, "This won't take long.  I'm
assuming you're planning on accompanying Brabant to the hospital?"

"Maybe."  Schanke's attention drifted to the other vehicles, where it
looked like about six men had been taken from the building.  All of
the men except Evans were calm.

"Well then, quickly answer my questions and we'll see about that."
Getting no response from Schanke, the agent continued, "Is LaCroix
dangerous?"

"What do you mean by that?"

The man pursed his lips, rephrasing, "If Brabant dies, what is LaCroix
likely to do?"

"Well, he won't be happy, but I suspect you know that.  I'd keep Evans
somewhere safe, but then if Nick dies, he's going to have more to
worry about than LaCroix."

At the remark, the agent raised an eyebrow.  "I'm going to disregard
that.  The question is if LaCroix is any danger to those in the
immediate area?"

"At the hospital?"

"Anyone."

"Why do you want to know?" Schanke asked, sensing there was some
reason behind this questioning.

"There have been two similar situations.  The outcomes have been kept
from the news."  Pausing, the FBI agent explained, "Twice in the last
couple of weeks we've discovered nearly dead vampires.  Both times
they were taken to a hospital, and both times the discovered vampire
died, even with care.  After the second death, several of the men that
had taken the victim turned up dead while still in FBI custody."

"So, you want to know if LaCroix is going to go after them if Nick
doesn't make it," he said, nodding toward the unmarked vehicles they
had arrived in.  "Honestly?  You'd be better off asking LaCroix,
something I'd advise against doing just now."  Schanke turned to go
back inside, but the agent stopped him.

"And Brabant?  How likely is he to go after them if he recovers?"

Schanke just shook his head, refusing to answer.  Then, seeing the
paramedics bring Nick out covered loosely with what looked like a
fairly thick blanket, followed by Detective Metzger and a cloaked
LaCroix, he tersely asked the agent, "May I leave?  Or am I being
arrested?"

The agent suppressed his anger, replying, "You can leave," and then
started walking toward his partner and the others.

Looking to Nick as the paramedics put him in the ambulance, Schanke
felt uncomfortable seeing the other lying so very still and covered,
like a corpse.  And then, focusing on LaCroix, he inwardly stiffened. 
LaCroix seemed almost subdued despite the late afternoon sun shining
behind him.  Schanke didn't believe LaCroix' disposition could, in any
way, be a good sign.


Downward Spiral - (24/27)

After arriving at the hospital in Austin, Schanke quickly watched
LaCroix' patience dwindle.  First, the doctors at the hospital
insisted on x-rays.  Initially, LaCroix had outright refused, but
after arguing with the doctors over the multiple, nearly-healed bullet
wounds Nick had, he allowed the x-rays and the surgery needed to
remove the bullets, aware Nick would likely heal faster with the
bullets out.

For a quarter of an hour, LaCroix had paced in the waiting room.  But
after several others became uncomfortable--including the receptionist
and a uniformed officer--Schanke had suggested they go outside as the
sun had set soon after their arrival.  While the change of location
had calmed LaCroix, nearly an hour had passed, which meant he was even
tenser than earlier.

And the worry was starting to rub off on Schanke, as while LaCroix was
no longer pacing, he was.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Schanke caught a dark figure
slipping out of view.  It was Janette.  Going over to LaCroix, he
nearly spoke, but LaCroix turned to look at him.  Schanke then fumbled
slightly as he started, "Uh, Janette--"

"Is here, yes."

"How long?"

Instead of answering, LaCroix glared at the mortal.  Talking was not
what he felt like doing right now; something that at least his
daughter sensed.  Without a word, he returned inside.

Schanke closed his eyes, hoping that neither LaCroix nor any of the
hospital's employees would get too annoyed by the other.

"You are quite a ways from home, Detective."

Turning around and opening his eyes, Schanke found Janette standing
mere feet from him.  She was somewhat unusually dressed--a long, plain
black coat with abnormally simple clothes underneath, also black.  "So
are you."

"Yes.  Until last week, I was in Europe.  Flying among the mortals was
most unpleasant; although, seeing the shock on a few of their faces
was almost satisfying," she said, her tone attempting to be playful,
but both that and a slight smile flickered for a mere moment before
failing.  "Evading them once the plane landed on this continent was
rather...annoying."

"You came here for Nick."

"Yes."  She then looked away, adding in a whisper, "And for LaCroix."

Schanke simply nodded at the addition.

"Detective Schanke?" a male voice came from the hospital doors.

Turning, Schanke nearly snapped at the other until he realised it was
a doctor he had seen earlier.  He momentarily looked to Janette, as
she walked up to his side and the doctor's attention shifted nervously
to her.  "She's a friend."

Glancing at the ground, the doctor refocused and then told Schanke,
"We've moved him to a private room.  Your friend, Mr. LaCroix, is with
him."

As Schanke headed inside, the doctor stopped Schanke, gripping the
other man's arm and telling him, "LaCroix has adamantly refused to
allow us to put Brabant on any kind of life support.  We removed
several bullets from his chest and abdomen and immobilised his neck.
His life signs are very erratic and, generally, nonexistent.  Perhaps
you could--"

Janette stepped forward, focusing her attention on the doctor.
"Release him and take us to Nicolas."  When the man only turned toward
her, she let her eyes glow softly as she repeated, "Release him, now."

The doctor released Schanke just as the woman reached for his wrist.
Nodding toward Schanke with a hint of fright, he turned and led the
two inside.

As they entered the hospital, Schanke slowed and let Janette pass him
in the hall.

Reaching a room with two cops standing on either side of the door,
Janette visibly stiffened.  Mortals, 'guarding' Nick.  She didn't like
it, but knew it was safer for Nick--as well as herself and LaCroix.
She entered the room after the doctor opened the door and pushed it
inward.

Schanke stepped in front of the doctor, just as he was about to follow
Janette inside.  "Unless you absolutely have to do something in there,
perhaps just leave them alone?"

The doctor stiffened, but nodded and left.

Backing up into the room and gently closing the door, Schanke turned
to see Janette standing next to Nick's hospital bed.  LaCroix,
however, was standing looking out the room's window, one hand holding
back thick drapes likely put there just for Nick.

After a couple of minutes of trying to avoid looking at the brace
around Nick's neck, the oxygen mask and the IV line of blood, Janette
asked, "What did they do to him?"  As she waited for a response, she
let her fingers gently touch Nick's cheek.

"Decapitation."

Janette turned sharply toward LaCroix at the whisper, her eyes wide.

"Well, not really," Schanke corrected, a bit nervously.  He watched as
Janette stiffened, but LaCroix didn't budge.  "I mean, it wasn't a
proper decapitation, right?"

"No," LaCroix whispered without turning around.  "He is healing."

"Slowly," Janette softly added, turning back to Nick.  "I've never
seen one of us quite like this."  Straightening, Janette faced Schanke
with a faint smile.  "Thank you for telling that doctor to leave."

Feeling ever more uncomfortable being the only human in the room,
Schanke took a step back.  "I should probably leave, at least for a
while."

"No," Janette commanded, stopping Schanke before he managed to turn
around.  "Nicolas, I suspect, would want you to stay."

At that, LaCroix turned away from the window but said nothing; after
all, Janette was likely right.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Late the next day, very little had changed.  A few hours earlier,
Schanke had left for a nearby hotel after being taken back to the
precinct to get his rental car.

Even LaCroix had left the room.  First, he had left to ensure the only
things the mortals had taken from his son were bullets.  He was
pleased to discover the mortals weren't taking advantage of the
situation.  He had also, later, gone to request blood for Janette.
However, he didn't stray for long on either occasion.

Janette eventually pulled a chair over and sat down.  Initially, she
had refused the unit of blood LaCroix had obtained, drinking it only
after he poured it into a glass and insisted that she take it.
Neither took any time to rest.

Near sunset, Janette tiredly rested her head on the bed, her fingers
entwined with Nick's, as they had been for hours.  Abruptly, she felt
his hand grasp hers, and she sat up to see Nick looking at her.  His
eyes were glazed over, however.  And just as soon as his eyes
flickered open, they again slid shut.

Only when she no longer felt Nick's hand grip hers did she look away
and to LaCroix.  "Why is this taking so long, LaCroix?  If he's
healing, why--"

"Have you ever seen one of us with these kind of injuries?"

"No," Janette quickly answered.  Then, softly, she added, "But you've
managed to recover from...similar injuries."

Not wanting to go into this, LaCroix narrowed his eyes, simply
answering, "Perhaps."

Both vampires turned toward the door as they heard commotion in the
hall.  The problem was a mortal reporter by the sounds of the
argument.

Patience thin, LaCroix left the room and walked the few steps toward
the mortal reporter, cameraman, and the nurse that was unsuccessfully
trying to argue with them.  Pushing the nurse to the side, LaCroix
took the reporter by the neck and pushed him backward down the hall.
Several rooms away, he released the man, simply intoning, "*Leave.*"

The man stood dazed for a moment, the cameraman so shocked he hadn't
even been paying attention.  The reporter silently turned and started
toward the exit.  The ashen cameraman followed a moment later, but
glanced back toward LaCroix a couple of times before turning a corner.

When LaCroix turned back around, he came face to face with the nurse.

She shivered as he walked toward and past her.  Following him to the
room and arriving just as he prepared to shut the door, leaving her in
the hall, she managed to tell him, "I need to check on him."

"He's fine," LaCroix hissed.  "Now leave."

The nurse held her position.  "I'll only be a moment."

LaCroix looked away.  He either needed to let this woman do her job,
or, likely, have her go get another mortal to back her up.  Wanting as
few distractions as possible, he stepped to the side and allowed her
to enter.

Slowly walking up to Nick, the nurse quickly checked to see how much
blood was left and make sure the IV line delivering it was still in
place.  Finished with that, she turned her attention upward, opening
one of Nick's eyes only to jump as he blinked and flinched away at her
touch before again returning to a sleep-like state.

"He is recovering," Janette whispered.

The nurse jumped again as she felt hands on her shoulders.  Slipping
away from Janette, she told them, "I'll be back."

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Returning to the hospital shortly before sunset, Schanke found Janette
waiting outside Nick's room, the door shut.  "What's going on?"

"The nurse retrieved a doctor after Nicolas responded to her
prodding."

"He's awake?"  Schanke reached for the doorknob, but Janette stopped
him.

When the two officers reacted to her action, stiffening and nervously
watching her every move...as if she might abruptly kill someone if
they didn't, Janette gently pulled Schanke away from the door.  Once
she and Schanke were on the other side of the hall and nearly to the
next room, Janette shook her head and told him, "No, he isn't yet
awake."

"Is LaCroix...?" Schanke prodded, nodding back toward the door.

"Yes.  He refused to leave.  A Detective Metzger is also inside."

"Metzger?  Why is he here?"

"Apparently to assess Nicolas' condition."  Then, with distaste,
Janette explained, "The FBI wants a statement as soon as possible, and
they somehow learned that Nicolas was recovering."

"Metzger's on your side."

"I gathered that from LaCroix."  Janette turned away, her eyes fixing
on the door.  "LaCroix is allowing him to stay long enough to question
the doctor."

After a couple of minutes, Schanke started, "So..." but then halted,
stiffening as the door to Nick's room opened.  Metzger, a doctor, and
a nurse then exited.  The latter two left, Schanke's eyes snapping to
the neck brace in the nurse's hand as they walked away.

Janette's attention remained on Metzger.  Nodding at a piece of paper
in his hands, she demanded, "What is that?"

"It's a statement saying that Nick is not to be questioned until he
recovers, with a list of those allowed unlimited access to the room,
which is limited to family.  All other visitors must be approved."

While Janette seemed pleased at the answer and she returned inside
Nick's room, Schanke stiffened.  He wasn't Nick's family; not like
Janette and LaCroix.

"Don't worry, you're on the list," Metzger said with a smile.  More
seriously, he nodded down the hall.  "I, however, am not.  And I need
to get this copied and sent out before it gets any later, and also
before my wife calls again."

Absently, Schanke nodded, his thoughts straying.  Myra had called
earlier that morning, asking if he wanted her and Jenny to come down. 
He had refused.  After all, once he was sure Nick would recover, he
would be returning home.  Nick would surely insist on it after what
had happened.

Tense, Schanke finally entered Nick's room, LaCroix shutting the door
behind him.  The action would have startled him if not for Janette's
voice softly calling Nick's name.  Nick shifted his head as he
approached, but his gaze seemed unfocused.  By the time he reached
Janette, Nick had drifted back into unconsciousness.

Janette left the side of the bed and walked purposely toward LaCroix. 
"Allow them to sedate him, LaCroix."

"I've already given my answer on that," LaCroix firmly hissed at
Janette, resting a hand on her shoulder as he walked behind and around
her.

"A few hours; just long enough for him to truly rest and gain more
strength!"

LaCroix ignored the suggestion.  His son had already spent long enough
sedated or otherwise weakened.

"He doesn't seem very, ah, stable," Schanke commented, turning toward
LaCroix.  But the vampire didn't look at him or respond.

Janette walked up to LaCroix, her gaze harsh.  "He's not."

Tired of Janette's arguing, LaCroix gave a quick glance to Nick and
then left, shutting the door behind him harder than necessary.

Watching Janette return to Nick's side and sit in the chair next to
the bed, Schanke commented, "So, anything new?  Other than that he's
slowly coming around...."

"No.  As you stated, he is not stable.  He has not yet spoken."  Then,
softer, she added, "I still cannot sense him, although I believe
LaCroix can.  LaCroix won't allow these mortals to sedate him due to
his slow and erratic recovery."


Downward Spiral - (25/27)

Not long before sunrise, Schanke was about to leave to get some
breakfast when he saw Janette start quickly for Nick.  Turning, he
walked slowly forward and watched as Nick stiffly moved but easily
managed to pull the oxygen mask off.  When Nick closed his eyes,
Schanke approached further, saying Nick's name.

After taking several deep breaths, Nick hoarsely whispered, "I want to
leave."  He sat up, wincing as his joints moved for what felt like the
first time in a week.  He felt dizzy and leaned heavily on one side
when the feeling didn't pass after a couple of seconds.

Schanke was torn between getting a doctor and remaining.  He did the
latter, although he became worried when Nick pulled the blood-giving
IV out of his arm and started to get out of the bed.

"Rest, Nicolas," Janette said, trying to push Nick back, but he fought
her, pushing her roughly to the side.  Stiffening, Janette reluctantly
allowed Nick to lean on her as he stood.  As he did so, she felt as
though almost all of his weight was transferred to her.

"I want to leave, Janette," Nick whispered into her ear.  "Now."  He
attempted to take a step, still holding onto Janette, but he quickly
lost the strength to hold onto her shoulder.  As Janette tried to
steady him further, he pushed her away.

Schanke stepped forward, catching Nick just as he dropped hard to his
knees.

Nick held onto Schanke, his light-headedness increasing.

"You know, it's generally not a good idea to try and leave the
hospital the moment you wake up from a serious injury."

Nick nodded at Schanke's comment, relaxing as he felt Janette's hands
on his back.  But he then tensed as the feeling vanished and LaCroix
pulled him away from Schanke and into a standing position.  Being
pushed back onto the bed, he instinctively hissed at the sudden
disorientation, but calmed once he caught his breath and his dizziness
faded.  Pushing LaCroix away and shifting so that he was fully on the
bed, Nick remained still at first.

Janette slid in front of LaCroix and gently stroked Nick's forearm,
but he jerked away from her touch.

Several seconds passed, after which Nick reached for the oxygen mask
he had pulled off mere minutes earlier.  Taking a slow, deep breath
from the mask, it was nearly too much and he again pushed it away.
Calming, he asked, "What time is it?"

"A little before six in the morning," Schanke answered.

"How long?"

"About 36 hours since we found you."

Nick turned away.  Then, softly, he said, "I still want to leave
tonight, LaCroix."  Closing his eyes, all he could hear were quick
heartbeats all around.  As someone walked by the door, he heard the
mortal's heartbeat quicken.  It faded, only for the sounds of another
mortal to take the first's place.  "At least out of here."

There was a quick, soft knock at the door, at which a nurse entered
and started toward Nick.  However, the woman then froze as she
realised Nick was awake, watching him shift as she slowly approached. 
As her eyes locked on the undone IV, her hesitation vanished and she
walked toward the bed, putting what this man was at the back of her
mind.  He was a patient and that's how she would treat him.

Schanke backed out of her way, as did Janette.  LaCroix remained in
place, forcing the nurse to walk around him.

Reaching for the IV, the nurse commented, "Good to see you awake."

Nick glared at her, sarcastically replying, "Really."

She tensed and then, holding the needle, told him, "Give me your arm."

Nick looked away.  His hunger peaked as she reached toward him, but he
allowed her to take his arm and reinsert the IV.

The nurse then turned her attention to the oxygen mask, which Nick was
holding against his chest with his other hand.  "How are you
breathing?"

"Fine," Nick stated, although it was a slight lie.  Then, he turned
away and onto his side, pulling the sheet up and over him as he did
so.

Seeing a faint but very fresh scar on the back of Nick's neck, the
nurse reached forward, only for LaCroix to tightly grip her wrist.
She protested as he pulled her away from the bed.

"You've seen that Nicholas is awake.  Now get out!" LaCroix harshly
whispered in the woman's ear and then released her, giving her a small
shove toward the door.  He watched her nervously spin to face him
before she left.

As the mortal left, Janette gently placed her hand on Nick's back,
purposely avoiding the back of his neck and the still healing wound.
After a moment, she carefully moved her hand, touching his shoulder
and the side of his neck, trying to soothe and relax him.  But he
merely tensed further.

LaCroix watched Janette try to ease the tension in Nick's muscles, but
he knew it would do no good.  The younger vampire wanted out of the
hospital, and that was it.  Aware that if he remained he would likely
start an argument with his son, LaCroix stated, "I will return before
sunrise," and then left.

Mere seconds after LaCroix exited the room, Nick pushed Janette's hand
away and rolled back onto his back.  "Go with him, Janette."  As she
started to protest, he told her, "I'm not going anywhere and I'm sure
LaCroix would enjoy your company."

Giving Nick a soft smile, Janette nodded.  As she left, she let her
gaze settle on Schanke as she walked by him.

Once Janette had left, Nick lay still, closing his eyes as he finally
calmed.  He didn't want LaCroix and Janette there, trapped in the room
with him.  All he could sense was their irritation and frustration at
being stuck there, which did nothing to help any of them.

Schanke shifted from one foot to the other.  Now alone with Nick, he
wondered if his presence bothered Nick as much as the nurse.  He was,
after all, mortal.  And Nick didn't even want Janette there, it
seemed.  "Uh, Nick, I can leave if you'd like to be alone?"

Eyes snapping open, Nick immediately answered, "No, Schanke, stay."

Schanke fidgeted a moment longer, but then sat in the chair Janette
had pulled up toward the bed.

Softly, Nick asked, "There's a scar, isn't there?"

"I don't know.  I couldn't really see earlier--" Schanke stopped when
Nick turned his head away for him to see.  And yep, there was a fresh
scar slicing straight across the back of Nick's neck.  "Ah, yeah.
It's probably not healed yet, though, right?  I mean you haven't fully
recovered...."

Nick again laid his head back.  "Vampires don't scar, Schanke."

The comment surprised Schanke, and for several seconds he didn't
comment.  "You guys usually aren't out that long either, though,
right?  So maybe it'll just take longer."

"Maybe."  Nick turned his attention away.  "I am glad you're here."

Schanke tensed.  Nick's voice, firm and unemotional, seemed anything
but happy.  "But?"

"But you have to go back to Toronto.  Tonight or tomorrow morning, no
later."

"Nick, you're not even out of--"

"I'll be fine, Schanke!  But you have your own life."  Nick squarely
faced Schanke, and shaking his head slightly, he told the other,
"Don't come after me again, Schanke.  No matter what you might hear."

Schanke dropped his gaze from Nick.  "I guess it's a bit my fault
you're here, isn't it?  I mean, if I hadn't come down here...."

"It likely would have made no difference."

"No," Schanke started, vigorously shaking his head.  "No.  If I hadn't
been with you, talking to you, you wouldn't have been distracted."

"It wasn't your fault, Schanke; I was plenty distracted by my own
thoughts.  That wouldn't have changed."

"Maybe, but they used me to get you to cooperate."

"Something that wasn't entirely necessary, as they have ways of
disabling us.  If you weren't there, I would have still been
distracted and they could have just shot me with a tranquilliser."
Nick closed his eyes.  He felt no better now than he had when he woke.
He wanted to sleep, and he took a slow, deep breath.

"So, I guess this'll mean goodbye?"

"Yes.  There's nothing you can do to help and you'll be far better off
if you just forget about me."  Nick rolled his head to the side and
gave Schanke a bit of a smile.  "Although, I suspect that won't
actually happen."

Feeling a bit nervous despite Nick's expression, he swallowed and
asked, "You won't, you know, make me, ah--"

Still smiling, Nick shook his head.  "No, I'm not planning on it."
Turning slightly more serious, he added, "It doesn't mean you'll never
hear from me again, just that you shouldn't count on it or think about
it.  Vampires don't mix well with mortals."

"I don't know about that..." Schanke started.  "Really, other than
being vampires, you haven't done anything to mortals.  Well, okay, you
have, but it's not like there's been publicity about people getting
killed or whatnot.  It's more that mortals don't mix well, right?"

Nick considered the thought.  It made sense, really.  It was the
mortals and their reactions that created this mess.  Mortals reacted
emotionally to what little they knew about vampires, filling in the
blanks with their fear.  Eventually, however, Nick had to shake his
head.  "There will always be tension, Schanke.  Always.  Vampires
require blood to survive and our preference is human blood.  That
won't change."

Neither spoke for a moment.  Shifting, Nick gradually sat up, taking
care not to move too fast.  Gesturing to the top of the bed, which was
only very slightly tilted, he asked, "Could you help me adjust this
thing?"

Relaxing at the far more mundane topic, Schanke nodded.  After a
couple of minutes of fiddling--and accidentally adjusting the bed
completely flat--Schanke managed to tilt it up further.

Once Nick had settled back, Schanke told him, "You know, you're one of
the best Detectives I've ever worked with, Nick."

Nick quickly turned away, uncomfortable at the statement, particularly
as he had lied or otherwise broken the law countless times.  He didn't
even always follow the rules as a detective--and Schanke knew it.

"So, ah, when are you going to leave Austin?" Schanke prodded, not
wanting Nick to shut him out.

"As soon as possible.  We'll stay a few days, at most; and then we'll
probably resume trying to stay out of sight for however long we feel
is necessary."

Schanke fidgeted slightly at the 'we' reference.  Nick was of course
talking about LaCroix and Janette.  Faintly, he wondered if Nick had
ever kept in contact with humans like himself for long.  He suspected
not, but now things might be different.  In the past, he could guess
that Nick likely told very few mortals what he was.  But then, Nick
and his kind would now be watched closely wherever they were seen.  He
couldn't blame Nick for wanting to keep hidden and out of sight for a
while, really.

"I do have a favour to ask, Schanke...something you could do before
you leave."

"Name it," Schanke said without a hint of hesitation.


Downward Spiral - (26/27)

Early the following night, LaCroix narrowed his eyes at his son as the
younger nervously sat down.  Nick had dressed and appeared to be
planning to go somewhere.  While the younger was stronger than when he
had left the hospital that morning, LaCroix still sensed weakness in
the other.

Janette also sensed Nick had something planned--as well as LaCroix'
annoyance that Nick had said nothing of it.  As such, she purposely
stayed out of LaCroix' way.

After a few minutes, Nick stood and started silently for the hotel
room door, but LaCroix appeared in his path, stopping him.  "Move,
LaCroix."

"Not until you tell me where you are going."

Nick glared at the other.  "I am going to meet the FBI agents that are
working with the local detectives."  Seeing LaCroix preparing to
comment, Nick explained, "I'm sure they would like a statement from
me; I am merely giving them the opportunity to get it."

LaCroix didn't comment; nor did he move out of Nick's way.

"I have to leave now, LaCroix.  Come with me and stay nearby, if
you're that concerned."  Nick roughly pushed past LaCroix, but wasn't
stopped as he left, leaving the door open.

LaCroix closed his eyes, trying to hold back his anger.  His son did
not have to do this.  It was merely added danger and stress, neither
of which Nick needed right now.  But if the younger man were
determined to do this, he would see to it that nothing more happened. 
He turned to leave, but sensed Janette approaching as he reached the
still open door.  "Stay, Janette," he hissed, and then left.

Nick stayed ahead of LaCroix, who he knew had decided to follow him.
Arriving at the precinct Detectives Metzger and Bryant worked at--a
location he had suspected would be relatively safe--Nick tensed and
landed on the roof of the building across the street.  Reporters were
gathered around the precinct.  They knew he was coming.

As LaCroix landed next to him, Nick simply gave him a glance and then
flew down to a shadowed area next to the building.  Scanning the
mortals, he felt somewhat better seeing Metzger standing outside,
apparently looking for him.  But, still, he would have to pass through
the reporters.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he started purposely across the
street and toward the precinct's entrance.  He ignored the reporters
outright, saying nothing and not meeting even one of their gazes.  He
also didn't drop his focus, instead concentrating on the building and
getting inside.

Metzger stepped behind Nick as he reached the front doors and followed
Nick inside.  "I don't know how they found out," he whispered.  "We
didn't leak it."

Nick didn't reply.  He had a suspicion that the FBI was the source of
the leak, probably hoping to get him to talk to them.  But that's not
what he was there for.  He was there to give a statement and answer
questions regarding what happened to him.

Walking further inside, Nick slowed as all activity stopped.  He let
Metzger walk ahead of him and take him wherever he was meeting the FBI
agents.  He could feel the mortals' fear as he walked through the main
part of the precinct.

Arriving at the first of the station's interview rooms, Metzger told
Nick, "I'm not sure what they're planning on asking, but two other
agents arrived a couple of hours ago."

Nick nodded, at which the detective first knocked on the door, and
then pushed it inside.  Slowly, Nick stepped into the room, keeping
his eyes focused on the two men.  One of them was waiting just inside
the door, and Nick gave him only a quick glance.  The other man, who
was sitting at the table, gestured to the chair across from him.
After Nick sat down, the man he was now sitting across from slid a
file toward him.  Nick's attention shifted toward door as it clicked
shut.

"We were somewhat surprised you volunteered to meet us."

Nick turned back to the man sitting across from him, who had spoken,
their gazes meeting.  "And I'm surprised you took the offer."

"It wasn't expected.  When you vanished from the hospital early this
morning, we didn't expect to hear from you again.  And then your old
partner contacted us through the Austin police."

"And?"  Nick leaned stiffly back.  "If you want a statement or have
questions related to any events that occurred since my arrival in
Austin, I suggest you ask them."

The second agent approached the table.  "I suspect you'd like our
names?"

Nick looked to the other agent.  "It would be courteous, given you
know mine."

"I am John Diaz and my partner is Allan Crawford."

"FBI?"

"Yes," Diaz answered.

"Department?"

"That hasn't been determined, yet."

"So your job is to deal with my kind, then."  Nick looked away,
neither expecting nor needing an answer.

Crawford then questioned Nick about his so-called kidnapping, giving
an overview of what they knew from Austin police and asking if that
information was correct.

Nick didn't make any move to comment as the agents had merely related
his capture along with his condition when they found him.  They had
answered their own question.

"Okay," Crawford started, his voice becoming somewhat stiff.  "I'll
take that as an affirmation.  Now, what do you remember from while you
were held?  What did they do or say?  Anything about the other being
held there?"

Abruptly, Nick's attention snapped firmly toward Crawford.  "What
other?"

Crawford opened the file folder sitting in front of him and pushed a
photo across the table.

Nick looked at it.  All that was visible was a dusting of ashes and a
near-circular metal blade.

"Found that in the cell next to you.  Same device they tried to kill
you with."

Nick pushed the photograph back toward the agent.  "I wasn't aware
that they were holding another vampire."  Then, after a pause, Nick
answered the initial question, "I woke up, was shot, and recovered
only to be shot again and was then drugged."

"Were you conscious at all?"

"Yes.  I later woke to find more samples were being taken.  I was
sedated again, but also given a unit of blood."

After several seconds of silence, Diaz prodded, "And?"

"And I remained dazed until several men held me down, after which the
next thing I recalled was waking up in the hospital."

"Mark Evans," Crawford abruptly asked, meeting Nick's hard gaze as he
changed the focus of their conversation.  "You've met him."

"I saw him, yeah.  And?"

"And we would like you to help us," Diaz answered.

Nick stood up, glaring at the two men.  "He's in your custody."

"And he's been silent."

Faintly shaking his head, Nick stated, "I can't help you."

Diaz smiled and watched Nick tense.  "We think you can.  We've seen
your records with the Toronto Police."

"Quite the interrogator," Crawford stated.

Nick turned, resisting the urge to pace.  As he did so, he shifted his
gaze to the back wall, only to find himself staring into a mirror.  On
the other side, he sensed two mortals watching.  This was why the FBI
was here.  They didn't care about his statement--they already knew
what happened.  He narrowed his eyes, then diverted his attention so
that he was facing the far wall.

"Although we are curious if it's true that your kind can...hypnotise
humans?" Crawford started.  When Nick didn't react, he continued,
"After all, perhaps much of your skill as an interrogator stems from
years of practise as a cop?"

"That's why you came here; he's not talking.  You don't want or need a
statement from me," Nick stated, stiffening.

"Evans is...reluctant," Crawford admitted.

Nick turned toward Crawford.  In addition to a hint of fear, he could
see a trace of embarrassment just under the surface of the mortal's
hard exterior.  They didn't want to come to him.  Slowly, he said,
"You want me to see what I can pry out of him...."

"If you can."

His curiosity mildly piqued, Nick asked, "And just why should I help
you?  What is it you want to know from him?"

"We want any and all information he knows about activities of ex-IVEA
agents and current hunters."  Diaz paused, stalling, not thrilled
about having to persuade this vampire, this man, to help them.  "There
are several laws in various stages of enactment.  One makes killing,
hunting, or otherwise endangering vampires for unsubstantiated reasons
illegal in the US.  Other countries are preparing similar laws, but
the majority of hunters appear to be operating from North America.  We
want to find as many as we can before they further disorganise and
form smaller, autonomous groups."

When Nick didn't comment, Crawford pointed out, "It is beneficial to
your kind to help us.  I'm sure you can see that."

Nick again looked away, pacing slightly.  This was something he hadn't
expected, not at all.

Crawford stood and, once Nick's attention had settled on him, he
stated, "Be at the FBI office in San Antonio at 6 a.m., or don't.
It's your choice."

"That's less than an hour before dawn," Nick commented.

Sensing the vampire's annoyance at the time, Crawford explained, "It
should give you plenty of time to question him, if needed."

Stiffly, Nick averted his gaze, listening as Crawford picked up the
file and left with what he assumed was his partner.  As the door shut,
he sensed as the two mortals in the adjoining room also left.

Only once Nick was sure they weren't lingering, waiting for him, did
he leave the interview room.  He met Detective Metzger's gaze, but
just long enough to give a slight nod before he headed toward the
front entrance.  Nick once again passed through the mortals and,
exiting the building, found it harder to face the mortals.

He would have flown off right there, but didn't want to give the
mortals yet another thing to broadcast.  And they would, as no vampire
had yet been recorded flying in public.  Instead, he headed through
them, his mind lingering a bit longer on their questions.  They knew
he had spoken with FBI agents; but it was also clear they hadn't
gotten any answers from Crawford or the others.

Finally free of the mortals, Nick fought the urge to shut his eyes and
pause for a moment.  Being completely surrounded by so many warm
bodies had triggered his hunger, and if he lingered any longer they
would surely catch a second of his golden gaze.  He quickly started
for the building's corner and, as soon as he turned it, took to the
air.

Nick flew several blocks before landing in a tree-heavy park.  Seconds
later, after LaCroix arrived, Nick explained, "They want me to
'interview' one of the hunters."

"You won't, of course."

Nick had known LaCroix would disapprove.  And hearing it did nothing
to help him decide.  "I don't know."

"But you're considering it.  You can't be serious," LaCroix hissed,
hoping this was just a thought, a whim.

"It could be useful to us, for vampires."  Nick paused, gathering his
thoughts.  "If they get the information they want, they'll be able to
stop far more of those hunting us."

LaCroix closed his eyes and took several steps away from the younger
man.  "When?" he demanded, spinning back around.

"This morning; 6 a.m. in San Antonio."

"You'll have to stay the day with them."

"I know."  Nick walked over to one of the trees.  Turning, he leaned
against the trunk.  "That's what I'm not sure about."

LaCroix' eyes glowed amber with anger.  "Stay here.  I'll get
Janette."

Nick stood and flew toward LaCroix, taking his arm.  "LaCroix--"

"We'll leave for San Antonio.  You can decide there."  LaCroix pulled
away from Nick and headed back to the hotel.


Downward Spiral - (27/27)

Come six the following morning, Nick hesitated, staying out of sight. 
There was no one in front of the FBI office.  The question was, did he
really want to do this?  And what else would they ask of him?

"Yes, or no?" LaCroix asked, moving to stand behind Nick.  "You must
decide."

Nick nodded.  "I'm going."  And then, after a short pause, Nick
glanced both ways down the street and slowly made his way out among
the few mortals on the sidewalk.

Crossing, Nick approached the front of the FBI office at which Agent
Diaz came out the front doors and walked over to him.  Agent Crawford
held the door open, apparently waiting for them.  Trying to relax,
Nick walked ahead of Diaz into the building.

Inside, Nick was surprised to find the building nearly empty.  True,
it was before office hours, but with him coming he had suspected more
people would have been present.

"We're going to the second floor," Crawford said, taking him through
security and pushing the button for an elevator.  As the doors opened
and he stepped in followed by Nick and Diaz, Crawford stated, "We only
have one rule for you:  You keep your distance.  You don't touch him,
for any reason."  The elevator doors slid shut.  "You injure him in
any way; he's not happy, we're not happy, and you won't be happy."

As the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, Diaz got off, but
Nick hesitated.  Seeing this, Diaz asked, "What?"

"Nothing," Nick muttered, keeping a tight control on his anger.  After
several seconds, he followed the agent.

They walked to the end of the hall, at which Crawford noted, "Your
conversation is being recorded, both audio and video.  If he asks why
you are here, you are aiding us in an official capacity; say nothing
more than that."

A bit annoyed by all the 'suggestions', Nick decided it was best not
to argue lest he make these agents change their mind about having a
vampire help them.  Would he do as they were asking?  He wasn't sure
of that, only knowing that his hatred of mortal hunters was currently
high...and Evans was certainly a hunter.

Crawford opened the door, pushing it inward.  Instead of entering the
room, however, he remained in the hall and gestured with his hand for
Nick to proceed.

Nick slowly walked into the room, hearing the door shut behind him.
He didn't have to turn around to know that the two agents had stayed
in the hall, leaving him alone with Evans.  He was faintly surprised
by that, but his expression remained cold and fixed entirely on the
mortal before him.

Evans, his arm in a cast and a sling, remained extraordinarily calm as
the other approached the table and the chair directly across from him.

Nick rested his hands on the top edge of the chair's back, his gaze
not shifting.  "This must be hard for you," Nick stated, smiling at
the irony compared to just a few days earlier.  When Evans smiled
faintly back, giving the impression that he wasn't going to cooperate,
Nick gave a quick flash of his fangs.  As intended, the action upped
Evans' heart rate, and Nick let his expression go completely serious. 
"I'd suggest you start talking."

"You can't make me.  Not without damaging your facade."  Evans smiled,
declaring, "You can't touch me."

"Maybe not.  *But you will answer my questions.*"

Evans sat completely still for several seconds.  Then, as an odd and
oppressing sensation crept up on him as he focused on Nick, he shook
the feeling off before he once again smiled.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Barely more than an hour later, after mostly useless questions and
prodding, Nick had to take a break.  He had quickly discovered that
Evans was particularly resistant to his abilities, and he was growing
tired.  There were now far more mortals in the building, which made
regrouping his thoughts difficult.  He was somewhat thankful Diaz and
Crawford had allowed him to use one of the conference rooms to rest in
with few interruptions.

The door abruptly opened behind him, snapping Nick out of his
thoughts.  He turned, only to find agents Diaz and Crawford entering,
the latter shutting the door loudly behind him.  Nick stiffened as the
agent sat what was clearly his Toronto Police badge and weapon on the
table.

"Last night, Detective Metzger told us that he gave LaCroix both his
and the remainder of your things.  LaCroix left those behind."

Nick shook his head, looking away from the items.  "Return them to
Toronto.  I doubt I'll be going back there for some time and they're
no longer of use."

Diaz nodded, taking the two items.  Then, he stated, "You were seen
arriving this morning."

"And?" Nick asked, not looking to Diaz.

Stepping toward the table, Crawford leaned forward on the surface so
that he could look directly at Nick.  "And you've gotten nothing out
of Evans," he stated, straightening and walking away.  "Maybe you
can't do what you're here for.  Maybe you never could."

"Is that what you think?" Nick started, standing and walking toward
the agent.  Sensing Crawford needed a demonstration, he then turned
his attention back to Diaz, his eyes sparkling with a hint of
pleasure.  "*You haven't had enough coffee this morning.  You will get
yourself and your friend, here, some hot, fresh, coffee.  You think
some fresh air is in order, and so you will go down the street.*"
Nick stopped, his lips twisting into a smile at the glazed look on the
agent.  Diaz was, thankfully, far from being a resistor.

Not showing any sign of shaking the suggestion off, Diaz muttered,
"Coffee," as he turned and left.

Turning toward a stunned Crawford, Nick asked, "Satisfied?"

Hesitating, his attention drifting toward the door, Crawford
commented, "He doesn't drink coffee."

"Then I suppose you should mention that to him when he returns?" Nick
replied, still grinning.

Crawford's eyes narrowed, his distrust rising and shock wearing off.
"If you can do that to Diaz, why haven't you been able to get Evans to
spill it?"

"Some humans are more susceptible than others."

"And those that aren't as susceptible?"

"Can't be given a...complete, permanent suggestion."

"Which means?" Crawford demanded, stepping toward Nick.

"I'll have to change tactics."  Nick sat back down and leaned back in
the chair.  Although he was particularly tired, he closed his eyes as
he rested his hands in front of him, hoping Crawford would get the
hint and leave.

Almost two minutes later, Crawford finally left, shutting the door
sharply in frustration.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Once Nick was sure plenty of time had passed, specifically enough time
that Evans would be growing tired from waiting, he went to Crawford
and Diaz's office.

Getting the go ahead to again question Evans, Nick re-entered the
interview room.  The mortal's anger teased his hunger, at which Nick
allowed his nature to subtlety take over.  Fluidly, he walked to the
table and pulled the chair out.  He kept his eyes focused fully on
Evans, his gaze not wavering in the slightest.  Sitting down, Nick
leaned back in the chair and relaxed.  "*You're tired of this.*"

"Yes.  Of course I am.  It's useless."

"*No, not useless.  But it is a waste of time.  Both our time.*"  Nick
paused, trying to keep his expression neutral.  "You do know you'll
just be questioned later.  Or they'll find someone else.  *And do you
think they'll be as gentle as I am now?*"

Evans went completely silent.  His eyes belied neither fear nor
arrogance.

"*The FBI knows where your kind operates.  They'll hunt you just as
you hunt my kind.*"

"And?  Why should that concern me?"

Nick paused, thinking for a moment.  That's what Evans needed--a
reason to make this seem beneficial.  Nick's eyes flashed gold, but
only for a second.  "*You want a reason to cooperate?*"  Stopping,
smiling slightly as the other waited, expectantly, Nick then asked,
"*What is better?  Attention drawn to the FBI for shutting your kind
down quickly, or the very likely blood-tainted news as your people are
slowly arrested?*"  Again pleased that Evans remained silent, he
continued, "*Do you have a purpose, or are you just a crazed fanatic? 
What about the others?  Fanatical hunters don't make good press,
Evans.  Your kind could use some boost of your image.  Of course,
you're one of the fanatics, aren't you?*"

Evans looked away.  He had asked for a reason and that's what he got. 
"And if I cooperate?"

"You'll have to arrange that with the FBI."  Nick then stood and
pushed his chair in, letting a bit of his hatred for this man to
surface.  Then, he left.

Once the door was pulled shut behind him, Nick closed his eyes.
Influencing someone without making it too obvious was far more
draining than he remembered.

Crawford and Diaz appeared from down the hall, the first commenting,
"That was impressive, especially after earlier."

"You still have to convince him it's worth it.  And take care what you
say.  He may or may not have realised my influence."  Nick turned,
planning to walk back to the other room, but felt a hand on his arm.
Turning toward Diaz, he let his eyes glow amber.  "I've done what you
wanted," he hissed, pulling out of the light grip.

Diaz didn't break eye contact with the vampire.  "And sunset is hours
away."

"And?" Nick demanded, his gaze remaining icy.  "Are you suggesting
that I am not allowed to leave before then?"

"No," Diaz answered.  "You can leave now, although I doubt that will
help you avoid the reporters outside."

Nick fought against his frustration, as well as his growing hunger and
tiredness.  He wanted to leave, but if there were reporters outside it
would be difficult.  He would have to wait until sunset, unless he
wanted to risk being both seen and followed.  As another mortal
approached them in the hall, Nick closed his eyes, holding back his
annoyance.

"We will have to give a statement for why you were here," Crawford
stated.

"Then do so."  Nick turned to head back to the other room, but
Crawford stopped him.

As the vampire pulled out of his grip, Crawford stated, "You were
never cleared of Dr. Lambert's death."

"And?" Nick asked, hissing the word at the agent.  He was hungry and
did not wish to be questioned about Natalie's death.  It was still far
too fresh, the last months having passed so quickly.  Firmly, Nick
told Crawford, "I didn't kill her."

Crawford hesitated, not expecting the other's reaction.  "We are aware
of that," he started, and then explained, "If you'd like, we will
clear your name of her death when we make a statement."

Nick relaxed slightly.  They wanted to clear his name?  In the back of
his mind, his thoughts hooked on whatever reason he could think
of...but when it came down to it, it was for their benefit.  By
clearing him, it would make their reasoning for having a vampire help
them easier for the population at large to digest.  His anger again
rising, Nick told them, "Tell them whatever you want," and headed down
the hall and back to the conference room, wanting to be alone.

*+.*+.*+.*+.*+.

Meeting up with LaCroix and Janette a couple of hours after the sun
had set, Nick barely gave either of them a glance.  While Janette
seemed concerned, he could feel conflicting emotions from LaCroix.
Abruptly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and tried to turn around.

"Stay still," LaCroix hissed.  He then pulled Nick's collar down to
see how the scar was progressing, at which he faintly smiled and
commented, "It's healing quite well.  I suspect it'll be completely
gone within the next day or two."

Nick roughly pulled away from LaCroix, not wanting to think about this
right now.  Why couldn't LaCroix wait?  As he again felt LaCroix' hand
on his shoulder, the touch this time far lighter, Nick immediately
took off.

Landing in a quiet residential area several miles away, Nick paused on
the edge of two properties.  As the other two arrived, he was glad
that Janette remained silent, but he sensed that LaCroix was not going
to leave him alone.

Watching his son walk away from him, his motions sluggish, LaCroix
commented, "You are tired."

"And?" Nick snapped.  He was tired and really didn't feel like talking
right now.  Staying up all day had drained him of energy, even with
sleeping some the previous night.

"And I think it would be best to remain here for the night, feed, and
then leave tomorrow."

Stopping, Nick closed his eyes, bowed his head, and nodded slightly.
Only when Janette approached and wrapped her arms around him did he
relax.  He leaned back into the comforting embrace.  Nick remained in
place for several minutes, basking in Janette's silence and their calm
surroundings.

Suddenly, at the edge of his senses, Nick's peace was interrupted by
snippets of news coming from a nearby house.  Already fully aware of
what would likely be broadcast and wanting quiet, Nick abruptly flew
off.

Janette left with Nick, but LaCroix lingered behind.  He, too, had
noticed the slight disruption.  Closing his eyes, LaCroix focused on
what was apparently a news broadcast:

"--was seen this morning arriving at the San Antonio FBI offices.
Throughout the day, questions regarding Brabant's clearly expected
presence were not answered.  Just after sunset this evening, FBI
Special Agent Allan Crawford issued a statement, calling the meeting a
request by the FBI for clarification.  When asked the topic of
conversation, Agent Crawford told reporters, "Mr. Brabant merely gave
us an official statement on his recent kidnapping and other
experiences.  We also questioned him for clarification of the events
surrounding Dr. Lambert's death in May of this year."  The FBI has
refused to detail anything more, although they did state that the FBI
discovered files containing "condemning evidence that the then IVEA
was behind Dr. Lambert's death," and that "Brabant has been officially
cleared of all suspicion in the case."  Brabant was not seen leaving
the building this evening, but Agent Crawford stated that he left at
sunset."

Hearing the reporter shift to related news, specifically various new
laws and amendments in congress that pertained to vampires, LaCroix
started slowly walking in the direction that his son had headed with a
smile gracing his lips.  The younger vampire was hungry and heading
out of the city.

Later, he would have to tell his son he had nothing to worry about,
that the broadcast had been benign.  First, however, they needed to
feed.  And once they were rested, then would come deciding where to
leave for the following night.


Finis

Hope you enjoyed the story!

Any comments, suggestions, gifts of chocolate, cures for sun
sensitivity, vampires, job offers, etc., more than welcome!

As a note, no infringement or other harm is intended to the real KLEW,
which is actually in Lewiston, ID.  Just thought it'd be interesting
to use instead of making something up from random. :P

jarvinia@gmx.com
http://gryffonslair.com
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