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, vampires, etc.
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.


TBC... I'll get the rest up as soon as I can. :)


jarvinia@gmx.com
http://gryffonslair.com
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