Downward Spiral By Jarvinia This story starts mid-late second season. As for a rating, probably on the high end of PG-13 for, well, violence and a couple of not-so- pretty scenes! And I feel I should apologise to any NatPackers. Can't say more here, though. Again, sorry. :( Many thanks to my beta-reader! I've since read through it enough times that any mistakes are most definitely mine, though! May not be archived without permission. No infringement is intended through borrowing the FK characters. Comments, suggestions, dark chocolate, white chocolate, and vampires are more than welcome! Enjoy! Downward Spiral - (01/27) [Mid-late February, 1995] "Where is he?" Janette asked as she impatiently paced. LaCroix placed the last bottle of the moderate supply of human blood they had brought into Nick's refrigerator. Hand still clutching the neck of the last bottle, LaCroix closed his eyes for a moment. Reopening them, he stated, "Nicholas will be here shortly." Sure enough, a few minutes later--just enough time for LaCroix to stow away the box he had brought the bottles in and for Janette's worry to intensify as dawn approached--the elevator sprang to life. Instantly, Janette flew over to the elevator and waited for it to arrive. As soon as Nick pulled the door open and stepped out, Janette kissed him desperately on the lips. It was a very brief kiss, however, and pulling back, Janette led Nick toward the couch. She sat down and tugged on Nick's arm, trying to get him to do the same. "What is going on?" Nick asked, turning first to LaCroix and then back to an almost distraught Janette. "Please, Nicolas, sit," Janette pleaded, again trying to pull him toward the cushions. Still baffled by both Janette and LaCroix' presence, Nick initially hesitated but did do as asked with Janette's insistence. Almost instantly, he found Janette leaning heavily against his shoulder. "Janette--" "Tell him, LaCroix," Janette whispered, not lifting her head. Nick looked toward LaCroix. He nearly stood back up, but Janette still held on to him. "What's going on?" Nick again asked, this time more insistent. "Why are you both here, now, so close to dawn?" LaCroix remained frozen in place. After a few more seconds, he simply stated, "We are being hunted." "We?" Nick asked, his worry rising. "Vampires, Nicolas. Vampires," Janette told him. "They are silently killing us. Murdering us, executing us," LaCroix explained, hissing the last with anger. It took a moment before the statement sunk in. By LaCroix' tone this was far more serious than a couple of random killings. "How long?" "Three weeks. Perhaps longer." LaCroix paused before further explaining, "At first, it was believed to be a couple of lucky hunters. A coincidence." "But then?" When LaCroix looked away, Janette whispered, "Dozens have died, Nicolas." Nick pushed Janette away and stood. "How do you know this, LaCroix?" "Initially, there was nothing more than faint rumours and mentions floating among us. After a week of recent deaths, Aristotle and others started examining--" "And the Enforcers?" Nick asked, cutting LaCroix off. "Busy," LaCroix answered. He walked to the kitchen and pulled out an empty wine glass. He turned it in his fingers several times. "Enraged." LaCroix snapped the glass' stem and let the pieces drop to the counter. Nick took a step closer. "LaCroix?" Janette stood and walked up to Nick, her hands resting on his shoulders. "LaCroix has tried talking to them, questioning them...but they won't--" "They are at a loss." LaCroix spun to face Nick and Janette. "It's clear that they were caught off-guard. They have done nothing but lose ground since this began." "Some of us believe those hunting us not only know about the Enforcers, but that they have killed a number of them, purposely, so that they could not as easily be stopped," Janette whispered. She closed her eyes, then more firmly told Nick, "It is becoming difficult to obtain what we need, Nicolas. I have already had a few shipments simply not arrive...." "It is becoming dangerous for those buying or selling blood," LaCroix said. Nick tensed. He was running low on cow's blood and would need more soon. And if Janette was having trouble getting shipments for the Raven.... "Then they'll find us," Nick whispered. "Yes," Janette confirmed. "We...brought you a modest supply of blood." "Human?" he asked, turning sharply toward Janette. "Of course," LaCroix said. Seeing Nick ready to protest, he continued, "It would not be wise to obtain blood--even animal blood-- from mortals. I am sure even you can see the reasons behind that." At the remark, Nick instinctively sent a glare at LaCroix. However, after a moment, he relaxed and nodded. If he had to consume human blood to avoid attention being brought to him, then he would. "It should last you several weeks, at least," Janette softly told him. Nick turned away from both of them, his thoughts starting to run wild. This could not be happening. "Those doing this...." "Mortals," LaCroix answered. After a moment, Janette elaborated, "A large and very organised group of them. Possibly even an...official organisation." LaCroix nearly glared at Janette, but nodded instead. "They are efficient, careful, and have well-thought plans. They are too organised for a small group, and too methodical to be doing this on a whim. It is suspected that their operations are funded; but whether privately or through more official sources, we don't know." LaCroix started across the room and toward the elevator. He turned back and turned to his daughter. "Janette?" "I am staying here, LaCroix. It is after dawn and--" LaCroix left, giving barely a glance to Janette as her response cut off. Once Nick had recovered from LaCroix' quick departure, he turned to Janette. "LaCroix, how--" "You sense it?" she asked, stepping closer. Nick hesitated, glancing away. Janette turned Nick's gaze back to her. "You do, don't you?" "He is pushing himself, tiring himself." "Yes. He knows." Janette reached her arms up to and around Nick's shoulders. "He'd be flattered that you care." "Flattered or surprised?" Janette didn't answer, instead kissing him. Nick instantly pulled back, asking, "Is there anything more?" "No," Janette said, honestly. "Nothing yet. And Nicolas...most of the others know nothing of this of yet. It could be nothing...." "Or it could be the end of us." Janette went to kiss Nick again, and when he turned away, she rested her head on his shoulder, where he then held her close. Nick didn't resist her, for which she was glad. Even if he had pulled back she wouldn't have cared as long as he allowed her to stay. Even in silence, his company helped ease her nerves. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. It had taken Nick several weeks to tell Natalie what was happening. He only managed it after Janette had asked him if he had...and then asked how his blood supply was doing. Between realising he would run out of blood within days and feeling the nervousness of the other vampires in the Raven on his most recent visits, he knew he couldn't put it off any longer. Finally, he told Natalie to come over just before sunset. And now that he had told her, the last embers of twilight nearly gone, he was at a loss of what to say as her attention became unfocused and drifted away from him. "Nat?" Natalie slowly sat down on Nick's couch, having earlier ignored his suggestion to do so. Glancing around the room, nothing seemed missing. "When, ah, will you be leaving?" "In a few weeks, a couple of months at most. It depends on what happens. I'll probably leave a couple weeks after Janette leaves, just in case...ah...." "In case the Raven has been targeted as a gathering place for vampires." Nick nodded. "Do you know when she'll leave?" "No. It might be premature to make a move now. It also might draw unneeded attention." "Nick...." "Natalie, so far it is still nothing but a few coincidental deaths. It might not become anything more." Seeing his point, Natalie slowly nodded her head. No reason to panic too much just yet. She felt uneasy about this, though. Vampires, being hunted, perhaps even discovered? It was literally absurd. But Nick was telling her that it might be happening. "Ah, how much blood do you have?" "Not much," he told her, not meeting her eyes. He was nearly out. He had had a glass the previous night and had less than half a bottle left. "If you need more, I could probably get some from--" "No. Natalie, it--" "It would draw attention, if someone's checking records. Yeah, I know, I just thought if you needed a little, I could maybe go to a butcher or something?" "I do appreciate the thought," he told her, managing a slight smile. "But I do have enough blood. It's not as much as I would prefer, but it's enough. Besides, since meeting you I've gotten better at tolerating less blood, even none for a short time." Natalie stared silently at Nick. He wasn't going to budge. But if he thought he had enough, that he could handle it...what could she say? She wanted to go check how much he had, see for herself that he would be fine, but that would likely only make Nick tense. And her, as well. Her eyes then caught on a clock. Nick had to leave for work in just a few minutes, and she needed to go home to eat and get ready for work before her shift started in another several hours. "I guess I should let you finish getting ready for work. I didn't expect--" "I know. I didn't expect this to happen, either." Natalie gradually inched backward toward the elevator. Reluctant to leave, she told him, "I'll see you later, okay? Maybe drop by on your lunch break, if you're not busy?" She watched him give a quick nod and realised she was not the only one disbelieving of what was happening. Nick didn't want this at all. From his sluggish reactions, she suspected he was still in a near state of shock. Natalie gave Nick a smile, her lips barely turning up at the corners and her eyes not quite managing to hide her worry, and then she turned and went to the elevator. The longer she stayed, the less time Nick would have to leave for work. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Nicolas, do not drink from any of the bottles LaCroix dropped off last night," Janette said, appearing abruptly at Nick's shortly after sunset. Nick paused for a couple of seconds. Had he heard that correctly? It had been nearly two weeks since he had told Natalie what was happening, but in that time he hadn't heard anything new from either Janette or LaCroix. "You haven't had any of it yet, have you?" Nick slowly stepped toward Janette as he saw her distress multiply. "No," he answered, slowly shaking his head. "Why? Has something happened?" "Yes. The blood had been tampered with. Poisoned. LaCroix and a few others have become quite ill. Throw it out. Get rid of it." Nick froze. "LaCroix?" "He will recover." "And the blood?" "I have told as many of the young ones as I can to leave the city if possible and that I have yet to find a new supplier." "Will you be able to find another?" Janette didn't want to answer. She knew it would merely increase both of their panic if he knew there was no chance to obtain another supplier, not after the current mess. "How are they doing this to us, Janette? And why?" "I do not know. And I also do not know how much longer I am going to keep the Raven open, but it won't be more than a few days." Janette turned away. "How much blood do you have? LaCroix mentioned it wasn't much, but he didn't say...." "Some," Nick quickly replied, glad LaCroix hadn't told Janette any specifics. He had run out over a week ago, a few days after he had told Natalie what was going on. He had finished it when Janette had told him of another shipment. "But it's not enough." Janette nodded. "I suspected as much. We are completely out." Seeing what she thought was Nick preparing to make an offer, she shook her head. "No, Nicolas, neither myself nor LaCroix will accept any of the little you have. LaCroix made that very clear. We will be fine for the time it will take for us to leave." "Janette...how much longer will you stay?" "The Raven will be closed within a week. LaCroix and I will leave soon after." Janette paused, again glancing away. "When will you leave?" "I don't know." Janette snapped her attention back to Nick. "It's time, Nicolas. You won't be able to stay much longer. However much you have liked your life here, you must leave it." Nick closed his eyes. "Three weeks, maybe a month. Maybe less." "You have enough blood for that?" Nick first averted his eyes, then turned and walked away from Janette. He couldn't lie to her. "You're out, aren't you?" "Yes," he whispered. "How long?" "A week and a half." Janette half-tensed, a tremor nearly passing through her. "You won't make it, Nicolas." "And I can't leave when you go! It would be too suspicious if anyone is watching me. I can't risk it. My life is too entwined with the mortals. I'll have to wait." Carefully watching the other, Janette couldn't tell which emotions were from the hunger and which were from stress. "How are you doing so far?" "I'm fine for now. I've gone longer than this in the past, you know that." "Yes, but in the past you've been well fed before--" "Janette, I'll--" Nick stopped, taking in a calming breath. He turned back to her and took her hands. "I'll think of something, Janette. I know I'll have to do...something. But the longer I can wait, the better. I'll join you and LaCroix as soon as I can, as soon as it's safe. I promise." Janette smiled, forcibly. Nick would be fine. He was resourceful enough...as long as he didn't break first. "You'll...come see me before you leave?" he asked, hopeful. "Yes. In fact..." Janette started, her smile becoming far more genuine, then told him, "I have a request...." Downward Spiral - (02/27) Several days later and long after the sun rose, Natalie decided to go by Nick's to see how he was doing. As she walked slowly out of the elevator, her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and caught on the couch, where it looked like someone had been sleeping. A second later, she felt a hand on her shoulder and then gasped at the touch, only for a hand to cover her mouth. "Do not be alarmed," LaCroix said, and then he slowly spun Natalie so that she was facing him, first lowering his hand and then releasing her. "LaCroix," Natalie stated, recognising the voice. Janette appeared at the balcony for a moment before flying down to stand next to LaCroix. "Nicolas is sleeping," she stated. Natalie, who already suspected that, asked, "Why are you two here?" "We are leaving," Janette answered. "I have closed the Raven, and we needed a place to stay for a couple of days." Janette then smiled as warmly as was possible considering her hunger. She then reached out her hand and took Natalie's. "Come, I'm sure you would like to see Nicolas, and he you." Natalie, a bit uncomfortable at being led to Nick's bedroom by Janette, followed the vampiress up the stairs. Once in his room, she was surprised that Nick wasn't yet awake...although he did wake as she approached the bed. How weak was he to not react until she was in the room, merely feet from him? "Nat, what--" "I had thought I might come over, just to talk, see how you are doing..." she said, not mentioning Janette or LaCroix, or that she would rather have left when she found them there and talked to Nick later that night. "Tired," Nick stated. His eyes flashed gold involuntarily, his hunger spiking for a brief moment. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Nick?" "I'm okay. Really." "Have you, ah, heard anything more?" Nick looked away. He really didn't want to talk about this. At the hesitation, Janette told Natalie, "It has merely gotten worse. More have died. And short of live prey, we no longer have a reliable source of blood." Seeing Natalie tense, she added, "It is far too dangerous to hunt even animals, let alone mortals...and certainly not so close to the city." Natalie nodded, aware that whether victims ended up alive or dead, no attention needed to be brought against vampires right now. Too many odd deaths just might reveal them, forget that they were being targeted by some type of hunters. "Ah, Nick, we can talk later, perhaps? I can--" Natalie stopped when Nick's arm darted out, his fingers gripping her hand. "Nick..." He loosened his hold, but didn't release Natalie's hand. Lightly, he pulled her gently toward him. "Stay," he said, pushing back the covers in front of him. "But..." Natalie began to protest, her eyes darting in Janette's direction. She felt out of place with others also at Nick's. She felt as if she was intruding, especially as she could see by how the comforter lay that Janette had been sleeping in here with Nick before she had arrived. "Please, Natalie. I have no intention to push you away now, not when I'll be leaving soon." Nick tugged a bit more on Natalie's hand and could feel her reluctance. But he wouldn't give up, not yet. Natalie glanced again toward Janette and was surprised when she did not appear disapproving and even more surprised when Janette nodded, as if telling her she should do as Nick was urging, that it was okay. She closed her eyes and let Nick pull her forward, only opening her eyes as she reached the bed and lay down. Nick then pulled Natalie closer, so that she was lying right next to him. He closed his eyes, telling Natalie softly to relax. A few moments later, he felt Janette lie back down on the other side of the bed, distracting him for a short moment. Nick then fell asleep, still listening to Natalie's heartbeat and its calming tones. Natalie lay awake for nearly half an hour, still uncomfortable with Janette so close and LaCroix just downstairs. Janette didn't bother her much, although she did feel like she was intruding upon something. But LaCroix...she had never even met him before that night. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick woke mid-afternoon to the sound of Natalie's beating heart. His attention fully locked on the sleeping rhythm in an instant, and he could think of only one thing--blood. Through a golden haze, his eyes quickly zoomed in on a patch of visible skin on Natalie's side, where her shirt had inched its way up. In a second, he had sunk his fangs into the flesh and took the gently pulsing blood as quickly as possible. Natalie woke abruptly, gasping in pain. Outwardly, she panicked even as a part of her knew that it was Nick who had bitten her. But that knowledge did very little to comfort her, particularly given he seemed to have just acted and didn't even give a hint to her that he might.... Janette also woke from a combination of Natalie's increased pulse and her trying to push Nick away. Her eyes widened upon seeing what Nick was doing. She tugged at his arm harshly. "Nicolas, stop!" she hissed. "You must stop. Natalie--" She cut off as Nick had abruptly pulled away from Natalie, seemingly stunned. As soon as she could, out of instinct Natalie scrambled away. She got out of the bed only to stumble, light-headed, as she stood. Hands steadied her, at which she pulled away from the touch and glanced back to find LaCroix. He continued to hold her up, and she was somewhat glad, as she doubted she could stand on her own. She then turned to face Nick. He was still changed, her blood on his lips. Seeing his mixed expression of horror and fading pleasure, she realised he likely hadn't intended to bite her. "Nick?" Nick tilted his head to the side and forward, closing his eyes. Despite having taken Natalie's blood, he still craved more. He wanted to apologise, but the thought was overwhelmed by his hunger, and he knew he couldn't dare speak. What he dearly wanted, all that filled his thoughts, was to take even more of Natalie's blood. LaCroix led Natalie back to the bed and gently pressed down on her shoulders, making her sit. Then, he turned his focus to Nick and held out his hand. "Come, Nicholas." Opening his eyes, Nick looked to LaCroix. Fully aware that leaving the room with LaCroix would likely mean being offered LaCroix' blood, an offer that he presently would not be capable of refusing, Nick was torn between leaving and staying. He glanced to Natalie for a second, his hunger flaring once again. If he stayed, his hunger would only get worse. Knowing that, he took LaCroix' hand and followed him out of the room. Janette slowly walked over to Natalie and turned the mortal's gaze upward with her hand. "How do you feel, Natalie?" Turning toward the door, Natalie barely heard the question. Nick seemed so.... "Nick...." "He will be fine. LaCroix will see to that." Feeling a sinking feeling in her stomach, aware Nick would possibly take LaCroix' blood, Natalie asked, "How long has it been since you've had blood?" "Myself? A week." "And LaCroix and Nick?" "Two and a half weeks." A bit shocked, Natalie whispered, somewhat disbelievingly, "Two and a half weeks?" Janette grimly nodded. "I thought it was only a few days longer than me, but...." Janette shivered. "I do not know how Nicolas lasted this long." She paused, and then suggested in a whisper, "He needs to feed. We all do, but Nicolas, especially. Perhaps allow him to occasionally take a small amount of your blood? Nicolas does not plan to stay too much longer, but it would greatly help him. Maybe...suggest the idea to him? I doubt he'll bring it up himself, particularly after tonight." Natalie, still stunned that Nick had gone so long without blood, didn't reply, not even with a nod or a shake of her head. Taking the other's silence as shock, perhaps even refusal, Janette said, "I know this is a hard decision, and an abrupt one, but it would help Nick. He will starve himself if he has to. He may even refuse, no matter what you do or offer...." "I want to, and I will, I'm just rather stunned. I mean, two and a half weeks? And wasn't he restricting the blood before that? I mean, I've seen what happens when he goes without blood. And he was planning on, what, going weeks more?" "It's difficult to believe, isn't it? Even now I am so very hungry...." Janette said, her voice lowering and eyes burning gold for a moment. She looked away and, then, turning back to Natalie, told her in controlled tones, "We have all had very little blood since this started. I will have to wait to feed until after we have left Toronto. We all will." "When are you...ah...." "A few days. LaCroix, I worry what--" Janette abruptly cut off, just as LaCroix entered. She hadn't sensed him. "LaCroix, Nicolas--" "Nicholas will be fine. He is regaining his focus." Natalie's eyes flitted toward wounds on LaCroix' wrist. Noticing, LaCroix told her, "I will be fine, Doctor." He then glared at Janette. "You know that I can tolerate such conditions much better than you or Nicholas." He then approached Natalie, his anger rising when she pulled away from him, her pulse rising. "Show me the wound," he simply ordered. "Ah, wh--" LaCroix flew the short distance to her, grabbing her from behind. He exposed where Nick had bitten her, the blood starting to dry and obscure the actual wound. "LaCroix!" Janette roughly whispered, shocked, as it looked like LaCroix was going to bite her. Natalie was momentarily frozen, feeling LaCroix' hands on her skin, his lips brushing her skin near where Nick had bitten her. She closed her eyes, fearing pain, but she only felt him lick the blood away. The touch was still far too personal, as Nick had bitten her high on her side. "What--" Janette started, but then cut off, as LaCroix pulled away and released Natalie. LaCroix then examined the now clean bite marks again, still holding Natalie in place, even as she pushed against him. He abruptly released her once he had finished, the few drops of Natalie's blood almost too much temptation given that Nick had just fed from him. "You should be fine," he simply said, and then, telling them, "You should both sleep," he left. Still a bit taken aback at LaCroix' action, Natalie turned to Janette while holding her shirt down and firmly against her. "Natalie?" "I'm okay. Just, LaCroix, he--" "He can be rather abrupt." She walked over to Natalie and took one of her hands. The skin was so warm and tempting, but her hunger had calmed with the shocks of the last few moments. "LaCroix is right. We should rest. You, to regain your strength, and I, to conserve mine." Natalie nodded. She hated this. It's like events were being pushed so that there was only one possibility. She felt like her life was being manipulated and couldn't imagine how Janette, Nick and LaCroix felt right now. Natalie allowed Janette to ease her back under the covers, and this time it was barely a moment before she was asleep. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nearly a week later, Natalie told Nick she was going to drop by after work. Between Nick biting her and then LaCroix allowing Nick to take some of his blood, Nick had seemed almost normal. But she knew he would need more blood soon, and she had remembered Janette's request and her promise. It wasn't hard to keep the promise, as she had already considered suggesting it to him. In fact, if she had known he was out of blood, she would have offered her blood to him before he had taken it. She entered the loft cautiously, letting Nick buzz her up. After Nick silently pulled the door open for her, she stepped inside and turned to face Nick. She then watched him take a half dozen steps inside before turning back to face her, which merely became the beginning of a long and awkward silence. She didn't know how to do this, how best to bring the topic up, but eventually asked, "Did, ah, Janette and LaCroix leave okay?" "Yeah. Yeah, they left. They're going to try and find somewhere safe for the time being." "Have you heard anything more?" "Before LaCroix left, he mentioned there was a slight upsurge of deaths. He seemed a bit grimmer than usual, but no, nothing new. Nothing pointing to who is doing this or why, and nothing pointing at who is most at risk. Nothing," Nick said, his frustration creeping in. "H-how are you doing?" she asked, taking a tentative step toward Nick. "It's been a week since you fed." Nick tensed and shut his eyes. "I'm getting hungry." "Take my blood, Nick." "Nat, I--" "Nick, you need to have something, yes? And the longer you wait...." "The more I'll need, the more I'll want...." "You could take some of my blood right now, without hurting me, yes?" She saw him ready to protest, and she added, "Don't think; just answer. My blood will help you, yes? Nick?" "Yes," he said, his eyes shifting to gold. He then looked away. Natalie gradually approached, lessening the distance between them until she stood directly in front of Nick, just out of his reach. Nick turned his attention to Natalie, his golden eyes meeting hers for a split second before they shifted down to her neck. He reached out with one hand, his fingers brushing against her neck. "I...can't." "Nick?" "Not on the neck. Not on the wrist. It would be too...visible if someone was looking." "You don't have to ask. I don't mind. Wherever you want to...." Nick's eyes drifted downward, to where he had bitten her before. And then his eyes drifted up and his hands slid down to the buttons on Natalie's shirt. He paused, and after Natalie nodded, he started undoing the buttons until most of her shirt was undone. Carefully pushing her shirt to one side, not allowing his fingers to touch her skin, he then slowly pushed her left bra strap down off her shoulder. Another slight pause, and then he struck, biting into the flesh just down from her arm and shoulder. What seemed like a mere few seconds later, Natalie gasped as Nick released her. She could barely believe he had taken enough of her blood. And yet, she did feel dizzy and she zoned out for a moment, coming back when she felt Nick's lips brush along her skin from where he bit her and up to her neck. Nick breathed in the scent of Natalie's hair, trying to focus on something other than the scent and taste of her blood. He held her close for a moment, then suddenly picked her up and carried her over to the couch, sitting down while still holding her against him. They remained that way for a quarter of an hour, at which Nick whispered, "I took more than I meant, than I wanted." Natalie sat up slightly, taking her head off Nick's shoulder. How could he say he took more than he wanted? "Nick, you took just as much as you wanted, needed. I feel fine. Well, I feel a little light-headed, but that's to be expected." Not replying, Nick's hand shifted back to the fresh wound. He carefully touched the skin, then shifted his fingers down slowly just to the top of Natalie's bra. He closed his eyes, his fingers dropping away, and then he reached his hand down and around to Natalie's back, pulling her toward him. A few minutes later, Nick found himself listening to Natalie's slow and steady heart and her equally slow breathing. She was asleep. He closed his eyes and let his fingers lightly slide along her back. He knew this would not be the last time he took her blood before he left. Downward Spiral - (03/27) Arriving at Nick's, Natalie pushed open the elevator door and slowly approached the couch, where Nick was staring at the blank TV, remote in hand. He had clearly seen the statement shown that morning, which divulged the existence of vampires. Stopping, she prodded, "Nick?" "I suppose we knew this would happen sooner or later, didn't we?" Natalie, surprised that Nick seemed utterly stunned, almost as if he had no idea this was coming, carefully asked, "You didn't know this was close? I mean, you knew something was up, but you didn't know--" Nick shook his head. "I had no idea. It just seemed like we were being killed. Until this.... I mean there was the possibility of something like this happening, but...." Again Nick shook his head, closing his eyes. "Nothing, not even from LaCroix or Janette?" "I'm completely cut off, Natalie. I don't even know where they are right now." Slowly, Natalie stepped closer, and then cautiously sat down next to Nick. She didn't sit back until Nick pulled her backward by her shoulders. Now leaning against Nick, Natalie closed her eyes and tried to calm herself for Nick's sake. "This, it changes things," Nick began, wondering how Natalie would take his decision. "I won't be leaving yet. It would be too suspicious." Natalie remained quiet. Nick would have to stay longer, of course. On the plus side, it meant she wouldn't be saying goodbye to him quite yet. On the other, it meant there was more time for Nick to be discovered, or worse, killed. "Nat, it'll probably be a few weeks longer. If I have to, I'll leave before that, but...." Nick paused, unsure he wanted to be more specific, given Natalie's silence. "Natalie?" "It's okay, Nick. As long as you're here, you can take my blood whenever you need to. You already know that." Nick pulled away slightly, forcing Natalie to sit up. "No, it's not okay. I hate doing this too you. You're far more than...." He stopped before finishing. He couldn't say it. "Nick, I know. But I don't mind. I can't just watch you starve yourself. And I won't. Now, more than even before, you need to keep attention away from you. And that means you have to feed, and discretely." Natalie sat silently for a moment. Nick, too, was quiet, and she commented, "I see you turned it off." Nick fiddled with the remote, but didn't touch any of the buttons. "Yeah. I got tired of the repetition. That yes, vampires exist, they're deemed dangerous and that they will be found and killed. And little else." "They, ah, moved on after about an hour. It's why I came." First, Nick tensed. Then, he hesitantly flipped the TV back on. "...are killers?" a newscaster asked. Then, a man with the subheading of Agent Carl Stephenson, IVEA, spoke, "Yes. If you looked at the background file of a vampire, or better yet several files on different vampires, you'd notice a common thread of wanted for murder and related notes dotted throughout their lives." "By murder, you mean killing for blood?" "Partly. But they often kill without reason. Sometimes they won't even bother with a victim's blood. Vampires are ruthless, nonsensical, inhuman creatures that--" Nick hit the mute button. He had heard plenty out of this idiot, and it wasn't much different than the informational statement that had been on earlier. But now they were trying to give examples. "What has come up?" "Well, they are an international group. Uh, I think IVEA actually stands for International Vampire Elimination Agency. Can't blame them for not throwing that around too much. They seem to have the full cooperation of most--if not all--major world governments. Their end goal seems to be to kill all vampires. No exceptions. And they have made it very clear that they have approval to do so. I haven't seen much mention of how they're working with present government agencies, but there hasn't been any dispute that they're stepping out of bounds." Natalie paused, then continued, "They, ah, announced several that have died...mortal name and birth info, current name, age, when they were brought over, by whom.... It's stunning how much they seem to know." "How many?" "A round dozen. It's a bit fishy, isn't it?" Nick almost answered, but a graphic popped up on screen that caught his attention. Nick turned the sound back on. "...blood to survive. They cannot eat mortal food, let alone live off of it. Second comes their susceptibility to sunlight and ultraviolet light. This can kill them, but they are also very resourceful. Similar to their sensitivity to UV light sources, fire can also kill. Third comes the ever-mentioned ways of killing a vampire: stakes and decapitation. Decapitation is best, as it is more permanent and immediate, but a stake will do just as well a--" Muting the TV again, Nick read off the remaining items on the list, "Holy objects, garlic, mirrors." "Yeah, they've done their research. They know what will and will not affect you, and Nick, they know specifics." "How specific?" "Precise reactions. They know how much you'll react to what. They've even stated that they have several drugs that will take a vampire out for hours, Nick. Or make you sick, like the tainted blood you mentioned...." Nick sat, silent, for several minutes. The only way they could have gotten that information was through testing, and more likely than not the test subjects had been very unwilling. And then, after they were tortured, they had been undoubtedly killed. When Nick turned the volume back on, the agent said, "...any person that exhibits such aversions, please contact us or local authorities. We will carefully and thoroughly investigate all those under suspicion. These are dangerous creatures of instinct that could kill at any time-- with or without warning." As another graphic covered the whole screen with contact info--several phone numbers and an email address--Nick flipped the TV back off. They didn't give a mailing address, no doubt not wanting their headquarters announced so blatantly to his kind. "They seem to be trying to...frighten, almost," Natalie commented. "Frighten mortals into fearing your kind, and fearing vampires into fleeing." "Fleeing and revealing more of us to them." "Or frighten your kind into staying put, making better targets...." "Yes." Natalie swallowed and slowly prodded, "Do you think perhaps you should leave?" "No. No, I'm too...suspicious as it is. If I stay, at least for now, perhaps that will make some people think twice about what I might be, given today, given this...." Sitting, watching Nick, Natalie could see his fear and nervousness building. He wanted to leave, but then he would likely immediately be targeted. If he stayed, he would be endangering his life. And they both knew it. Slowly, she reached forward with her hand, stopping just before resting the back of her hand against his cheek. She waited until he closed his eyes, which she hoped was an indication the action would be okay. Allowing the touch, Nick let a faint hint of pleasure reach his lips, almost allowing a smile to form. He leaned back and wished this was all there was, wishing that the last many weeks were just some nightmare that he couldn't wake from.... *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Ever since he had arrived at work that night, Nick felt eyes staring at him. He had expected it, given that his sun sensitivity was widely known. His arrest earlier that year and the discovery of cow's blood in his refrigerator probably did nothing to alleviate the fears and curiosities of his co-workers. The blood had, at least, not been human blood. That was one thing the announcement had gotten wrong-- that all vampires survived exclusively off human blood--but perhaps it was just part of this group's tactics to scare the public at large? Schanke had been periodically staring straight at him, possibly stunned at what he had seen and realising how much his partner sounded like a vampire. About to say something to Schanke, Nick's eyes darted upward when his partner stood. "How about we get out of here for a bit?" Schanke suggested. "It's not too late. We could, ah, go talk to Mrs. Grier about her son?" Fully aware they had already done that, Nick went to protest. "Or," Schanke began in a hushed whisper, "Just drive a round? It's a bit tense in here for some reason." After a few seconds, Nick nodded and stood, following the other out. Schanke's attention drifted repeatedly between the passing cars and streets and then Nick. Finally, after nearly ten minutes, he blurted out, "Are you a vampire?" Nick didn't swerve in the slighted, having expected Schanke to ask him that precise question. But he still hadn't decided what he would say in reply. "I mean, the sun allergy or whatever, your thing with garlic, I've never seen you really eat anything..." Schanke started off, and then asked again, "So, are you?" Nick glanced to the side, wondering what his partner was thinking. "Why?" "Just curious." "And if I am?" "Fine either way. I mean, you're my partner and we've worked together long enough that I know you're a good guy, whether you're a vampire or not. And I don't care what crock they're saying, that all vampires are killers.... That is, if you're a vampire. I mean, if you're not, then this is all...." Nick made a random right turn, not answering. He didn't like Schanke finding out what he was like this. "You are, aren't you?" Schanke said, the words calm and almost a statement. "Yes." They drove silently for several minutes before Schanke asked, "So you're seriously going to stay and work? Isn't that, well, dangerous?" "Yes, it's dangerous. But if I leave...." "You'll be branded a vampire then and there." Nick nodded. "I'll be here for a few weeks, maybe a month." Nick paused, then added, "Unless I'm discovered; then I'll have to leave immediately. Whatever the case I will be leaving, and probably without much notice." "Does, ah, does Natalie.... She's known what you are for a while, hasn't she?" "Yes." "How long?" Nick glanced to his partner before bracing himself for what he was going to say. "She knew what I was before she knew my name. I was a patient that didn't stay dead." Schanke looked out the window, noticing Nick had driven toward the Raven. Passing the club, Schanke looked back, noticing it looked like it had been closed. He had noticed that before, actually, but hadn't asked Nick about it. Now knowing what Nick was, things sort of started clicking. "Ah--" Schanke started but cut off, a bit of shock glistening in his eyes. "The Raven was a safe haven for us." "You've known this might be coming, didn't you?" "Somewhat. This...agency has been killing vampires for a couple of months. Hunting us, executing us. They've been trying to weed us out by destroying our blood supply, by using fear." "A couple of months?" Schanke repeated. Then, aware Janette had owned the Raven, he asked, "So, uh, Janette, is she a, ah...." he trailed off seeing Nick tense. He didn't really have to ask, did he? If Nick was a vampire, then Janette definitely was. "Is there anything I can do?" "No. No, just...don't draw attention to what I am. Don't try to avert attention, either." "So just do nothing?" "Pretend you don't know, Schanke. It's the safest thing to do." Schanke's jaw opened to reply, but he realised he had nothing to say. Safest? Safest for who? For Nick, or for himself? "We should head back," Nick abruptly said, turning the Caddy in the general direction of the precinct. "Why?" Schanke immediately asked. When Nick didn't say anything, Schanke realised what it was. "Oh, the briefing thing...." Schanke paused, noticing his partner tensing. "So, is their info on vampires accurate? On your abilities and--" "Susceptibilities?" Schanke swallowed. He didn't like the word, nor the stiff tone Nick said it with. But neither did he blame his partner. "Yeah. I suppose you could say that." "Let's just say they've had plenty of time to prepare their statements and have more than enough confidence to announce it." Slowly, Schanke nodded. This organization had, after all, gained and then provided sufficient enough information and details to get the go ahead to search out vampires with the intention of killing them. And he knew what that meant--with that research, these people knew what they were dealing with, and the information given in the news was likely quite accurate. Downward Spiral - (04/27) Natalie walked from the elevator over to where Nick sat on the couch, his eyes closed. It was almost like he didn't hear her come in. Perhaps he was even asleep, but she doubted it. Since the announcement several days ago, Nick had visibly started to become withdrawn and overly tired. When Nick finally opened his eyes to look at Natalie, he languidly commented, "I wasn't expecting to see you this morning." "I thought I should come over." Natalie then set down a tote bag she had brought with her and, leaning over for a moment, she pulled out several notebooks and various-sized files and put them on the coffee table. "I thought you should have these. Either to store away somewhere or...ah, to be destroyed. I nearly did the latter myself, but thought you might like to keep them...." She watched Nick smile back at her, although he only seemed half-interested. Even with his subdued mood, it was clear that he was pleased that she had decided to let him choose what to do with her research. "You're here for more." Natalie stepped closer. "Yes." Nick averted his gaze sideways. "I don't need your blood. Not today." "Nick, you didn't take much last time. I can see it in you; you're tired, weaker than even before..." she trailed off, watching Nick drop his head down. "I know you don't like taking my blood like this. But you need to. Your only other choice is to leave." "Which would not be wise right now," Nick whispered. He closed his eyes again, knowing Natalie was right. But then he commented, looking at her, "It's only been four days, Nat." "And how many more days are you going to be here, Nick? Twenty, maybe thirty?" Again, Nick half-smiled. "I haven't asked you this before, but is there anything I can do to repay you? And don't say nothing. The last several weeks have changed things, greatly." Natalie knew she could ask for anything. But there was very little she really wanted. That, and she suspected any monetary payment could, possibly, link her to Nick if he was found in the future-- something she knew he wouldn't want. "Just let me know before you leave, if you can. And maybe keep in touch, again, if you can." Pausing a moment and then approaching and sitting on the couch next to Nick, she then said, "And for you to take whatever blood you want or need. No more hesitation." Nick closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they glowed gold. "You're right," he said. "I do need blood." Slowly, Nick shifted and reached toward Natalie's jacket, pushing it out of the way. He then untucked Natalie's shirt and unbuttoned the bottom few buttons. He nearly glanced up at her, but remembering her insistence on not hesitating instead bent over, biting her on the side just below her waist. Neither was paying much attention to anything else, not to the elevator as it started up, nor to Schanke as he pushed the door open and approached. Natalie caught a glimpse of Schanke, her eyes widening seeing his shocked expression. Right at that moment, just as she was about to say something, Nick bit harder, causing her eyes to close and her try and focus entirely on not vocalising her pain. Taking all he needed, Nick stopped and then spun upon realising there was another heartbeat behind him. Schanke. He had expected his partner to visit, but had figured there would be enough time, that he would notice the other arriving.... Natalie was right; he had become too weak. "N-Nick...?" Schanke started, not sure what to say. Nick didn't look any different, but he could see the tinge of blood on his lips before Nick wiped it away. "What, ah, this, what...." Nick went to pull away from Natalie. She, however, did not allow him to, wrapping her fingers around Nick's wrist before he could get very far. She then turned to Schanke and explained, "Nick's been taking my blood." "W-why?" Schanke stuttered, not sure if he should approach or step back. "It's been some time since I've been able to get blood safely. Feeding from Natalie has been the safest option." Seeing Schanke's continued disbelief, Natalie added, "I offered, Schanke. Nick didn't ask. It's my choice." Still unable to speak, Schanke first settled for taking a few gradual steps closer to his partner and Natalie. "Ah, I saw another news thing this morning." Nick tensed, pulling away from Natalie. "More deaths?" "Yeah. Yeah, they put up things for another twenty, ah, six or so. What, that makes thirty-eight now?" He fidgeted in place. "How much of an impact is this having? I mean, is that a lot, or...?" "Far more than thirty-eight have died, Schanke. Thirty-eight is just what they've announced. There were rumours of dozens of deaths long before this was ever made public." "So how many--" "I don't know," Nick answered, a bit roughly. "Nick hasn't had contact with others since before the announcement." Natalie pursed her lips and told Schanke to sit down. Then, she asked, "What else was mentioned? Was it on this morning?" "Yeah, yeah, this morning, less than an hour ago," Schanke said, inching closer and sitting in the recliner. Natalie leaned forward and picked the remote up off the table, pointed it at one of the shuttered windows, and hit a button, opening one of the windows. Schanke's attention drifted between the sunlight pouring in and Nick, who had looked away from the bright light at first, and still seemed uncomfortable after a couple of minutes. "They were interviewing one of the agents," Schanke said. "And, well, some interesting questions were asked, and some rather messed up answers, or...I don't know." He took in a deep breath and stated, "When asked about how vampires are different, commenting that they look just like humans, the agent said something like they might be able to blend in, but that there's always an agenda and that it always involves blood and death." "And?" Nick asked. "Well, you are a homicide detective. I mean, you, ah...." "Schanke, there's little truth in it," Natalie explained. "Nick's a cop because he genuinely wants to help people." "And others? I mean, what are other vampires like?" Natalie turned toward Nick, who was looking in Schanke's general direction but not meeting his eyes. "We're all different," he told Schanke. "Some are...somewhat like myself. Some of us don't kill for blood or will only do so if necessary. Some are probably as ruthless--if not more so--than is described. Just like mortals range from saints to serial killers, vampires are neither all evil nor all good. We're not that different from humans. Killing and drinking blood is not all there is to us." "So, ah, they've been giving bios on those they've...well, anyway, it makes me a bit curious how old you are and where you're from and...." Nick looked away. Natalie saw this, but this time didn't answer. Nick was the only one that could decide whether to divulge this information or keep it to himself. Looking back to Schanke, Nick said, "I'm older than any of those listed on the first...group." He could see Schanke's disappointment at the vague answer. "I think it's better if you don't know, Schanke. Same with where I'm originally from." "So, with your kind being killed, have any...." "Have I known any of them?" Nick asked. Receiving a nod, he shook his head. "No, not that I'm aware. No one close. I haven't seen who they've announced this morning, though." Schanke slowly nodded. He hadn't really expected Nick to know anyone, but it just seemed like this was hitting his partner harder than it should. But then, he didn't really know or understand all of what was happening. "Do you think they're targeting just those that are...I don't know, particularly evil?" Nick immediately shook his head. "No. No, what they've said about our backgrounds...it's unfortunately true, particularly for vampires that have been around for more than a couple hundred years. It's difficult to not, at some point, end up on a 'wanted' list of some kind. And I have killed, Schanke. I won't deny that. But until recently, realise that it was virtually impossible for any vampire not to have to kill to survive. I can't, off-hand, name a vampire who has not killed for blood at least once. Corner us, threaten us, starve us...and we will kill before we let ourselves be killed." "Do vampires kill...indiscriminately?" "Not...usually," Nick quickly replied. Sensing the answer would not be enough, he explained, "We typically only kill for blood, survival...or perhaps if our mortal culture deems such killing as appropriate or we are sufficiently angered or taunted. There are, of course, exceptions, just as there are with mortals. Those that step the lines, those that endanger what we are...in the past they have been killed." "In the past?" "Before the existence of vampires was made public. It's more complicated now." Schanke nodded his head very slowly, thinking. Food, survival, inherent belief system and purposely being taunted...all were real reasons and not the 'because they're vampires' junk that he had been listening to on TV which only succeeded in muddling and confusing his thoughts. "And killing for blood, is that typical?" "In this time, this century? No. It is too dangerous. Most of us survive off bottled blood, much of which is donated in some form or another. Bottled blood is also a far more reliable source." Nick stopped, looking away. "Or, normally it is. The first thing they did was cripple our blood supply in their attempt to push us out." Schanke relaxed, greatly. Yes, vampires killed, but by Nick, they mostly only did so when necessary, probably not even regularly. They were real people, too. They had feelings and you could have rational conversations with them. Then why did he feel so nervous? Why did the descriptions on the news get to him so much? *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. After a week and three more major announcements, any new information on vampires had now settled into the opening remarks for most news broadcasts, with the occasional special on the larger full-time news channels. To think that interest was waning, however, would have been very wrong. As Agent Carl Stephenson's voice overlaid the death bios, reading off names, ages and other information, most viewers listened either in a state of shock, rejoice, applaud, fright or offence...or just ignored it. All were, however, stunned as the number of announced deaths quickly reached both one hundred and then one hundred and fifty. Images of unsuspecting vampires flashed up, but a pattern was now clearly emerging. All were men and women--mostly men--looking anywhere from twenty to fifty with given ages between one hundred and five and four hundred and fifty. No younger, inexperienced vampires popped up in the lists. Nor did any older vampires. The public was becoming curious; so far all vampires mentioned had been killed. While descriptions had been made of vampires, no one had had the chance to see a live vampire. Some were asking for proof of recent events to prove the truth in the ruthlessness of vampires. Some wanted to know how they were being killed. Others wanted to know who was being suspected. Whatever the demand, no answers were forthcoming. And it had taken little time for the IVEA to then highlight a list of recent crimes--from the last twenty-five years--committed by the various vampires that had been killed. The shift in mood of most of the mortals watching had then quickly shifted more toward approval and indifference. When asked where the IVEA was directing it's attention and energy, the answer was vague, merely stating, "We are focusing on key organisations and infrastructures within major and vital cities and towns." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The IVEA's latest statement drifted among Nick's thoughts nearly nightly. The last--the IVEA's current focus--especially preoccupied him. Worse, over the following several days various kinds of free food had been provided by the IVEA, supposedly for their cooperation. And, although curiosity and slight confusion was felt throughout the precinct, very few declined the offer of food. Nick was one of the few. As several days passed, he started to wonder if this was some kind of test. The police force would certainly be considered a key organisation or infrastructure in the city, and it would only make sense for them to want to ensure that all officers were, indeed, mortal. And what better way to give a test than discretely and without their knowledge? Nick had considered taking the offer of food, but it all seemed so very innocent.... It was mostly snacks--cookies, fudge, small sandwiches and the like, nothing seemed specifically anti-vampire. So what was the point? Was it just to see who took the food and who didn't? It didn't help that most who took the food the first couple of days, Schanke included, for some reason didn't want anymore. Most had mentioned a lack of hunger. Perhaps there was something in the food to suppress hunger and prevent only a few taking all the food? After all, if they wanted to give everybody the chance.... Eventually, mid-shift one night, Nick told Schanke to get him a few cookies. Schanke had obliged, he himself going for a different and far more appealing source of free food--donuts brought in by another detective. When Schanke brought him the cookies--two chocolate chip, one peanut butter and one oatmeal--Nick felt a slight lulling in the precinct. He knew some of the others had mild suspicions of what he was, something he had done his best to ignore so that it would hopefully make him appear as unsuspecting of the thoughts as possible. Having the food put in front of him, Nick fought back his instinctual aversion. The first bite was the worst, the odd texture and taste being one of the most repulsive things he had ever tasted. The second and thereafter, however, were not as bad. When he finished two whole cookies and only had two left, Nick realised it was a result of his hunger. He felt it, lurking just below the surface. He had had so little blood over recent weeks--just enough to feel strong enough to work and, if needed, flee--that his body almost didn't care that mortal food was being forced into it. Almost. As he finished the third cookie, Nick could, however, feel his nausea beginning to rise and knew the cookies would not be staying down. But so far, so good. Nick then ate the fourth and last cookie. He had decided he had done quite well when the nausea suddenly turned from slight to something more closely resembling pain. Nick sat back, leaning his head backward and closing his eyes. He felt far worse than he should have. Yes, he now knew, this was some kind of test. Minutes later, Nick startled as Cohen told them they were being dispatched to a crime scene. Nick didn't care where they were going; other than knowing they had a case, he didn't hear a word Cohen said, actually. All he wanted was out of that room. Without a word, Nick went to the Caddy and started the ignition. As soon as Schanke had shut the passenger side door, he pulled arbitrarily out of the precinct parking lot. He hadn't actually heard the address, nor did he care what it was just that moment. A few blocks away, he made a wrong turn, drawing Schanke's attention. When Schanke poked at his arm, pointing to the left, Nick sent a golden glare at his partner. He had no intention of changing direction, not yet. Never having seen Nick's eyes like this before, Schanke flinched slightly. But the change was plenty enough for him to ask, "Nick, what's wrong?" Getting no answer, he more simply and cautiously prodded, "Are you okay?" "No," Nick forced. A few blocks later at a pizza place, Nick pulled into the parking lot and darted inside. While not his first choice, his nausea had increased to something more. Even the tinge of garlic in the air barely bothered him as he entered the building. Schanke quickly followed, stopping only when Nick vanished into the restroom. He hesitated before following, getting the distinct impression that something was very wrong but unsure if he should say anything or not. For several minutes, Schanke was torn between staying and waiting outside as, from the sound of it, Nick lost both the cookies and a fair bit of blood. Once Nick seemed better, calmer, Schanke asked, "Nick, you okay?" His partner didn't answer, instead moving from the stall to the sinks, not looking at him. Schanke took a step closer, his eyes catching on the drops of blood--Nick's blood--clinging to the other's lips. It was just a moment, and then Nick had wiped the thick scarlet drops away. But the other still hadn't looked at him and had made no note of his presence. "Nick?" Then, next thing he knew he was being pushed up against the wall, his partner's golden eyes staring hungrily at him. Nick snarled at Schanke, fangs fully visible, and his head turning slightly sideways as he tried to hold back. He shut his eyes at the sudden hunger he now felt, even as his nausea continued. "Those things were drugged, weren't they?" Schanke asked, his initial fear fading somewhat. "Nick, what do--" "I'm so very, very hungry..." Nick slowly said, half in answer and half in statement. "You need blood," Schanke whispered, relaxing as Nick's hold loosened, the other's hands dropping away. "Yes..." Nick said in a low his, fangs still visible. Aware that Nick could not go to the crime scene like this, Schanke asked, his voice hinting at being both calm and nervous, "Tell me how I can help you, Nick." Nick shook his head. He didn't want to do this, but at the same time he forced himself to try and focus, knowing he had to. "Come on, Nick. What do you need me to do?" Reopening his eyes, Nick commanded, "Take off your jacket." Schanke felt a hint of weak persuasion with the words. "And then what?" he asked, doing as Nick said and pulling his arms out of his jacket. "Roll up your sleeve." Schanke did so, quickly rolling up his left sleeve. As soon as that was done, Nick then shifted the few feet to arrive at Schanke's side, practically vanishing for a second. A bit surprised at the quick action, Schanke abruptly felt his shoulder protest when Nick took his arm. Then he felt sharp pricks of pain as Nick bit him just above his wrist. Nick pulled his partner's blood for over a minute, taking the blood as slow as he could considering his great want for it. Schanke instinctively pulled away as soon as Nick released his arm. He closed his eyes, the bite wound almost hurting more now than while Nick was drinking his blood. So, this was what it felt like to be bit by a vampire. And here he was, still very alive. Looking to his partner, Schanke watched as Nick stood with his eyes closed, clearly trying to regain his focus and strength. Schanke went to the sink and cleaned his arm off, a bit surprised that the wounds weren't bleeding much at all. Nick slid off while he was unrolling his shirtsleeve and rebuttoning the cuff. Slipping his jacket back on, Schanke headed after Nick, having to grab hold of the doorframe turning the corner out of the restroom as a wave of dizziness hit him. Arriving back at the Caddy, Schanke got in and eyed his partner. Nick looked a bit paler than his usual of late, and it showed in his features. "Are you going to be okay? I mean, with the crime scene, considering...." "I'll have to be, won't I?" Nick said, his voice slightly more normal than before, but still audibly strained. Realising he didn't come off reassuring by Schanke's nervous glance over at him, he added, "I'll be fine." Several minutes after Nick had started the Caddy and they were headed to the scene, Schanke cautiously prodded, curious, "Uh, should I ask what, ah, my blood tasted like?" "Uniquely...Schanke," Nick replied, his tone light. Then, focusing on the faint remnants of thoughts that hadn't been crushed by his nausea, Nick added, quietly, "And like that of a very loyal friend." Schanke tensed at the last, somewhat surprised by the comment. But loyal, yeah, that fit he supposed. But where had Nick picked that up from, and how? Downward Spiral - (05/27) For the last several weeks, Nick often spent the short time he had after work and before the dawn driving. And he knew now that it was time to leave. True, no one seemed to have noticed his bad reaction to the cookies. The free food had gone a few days after that, at which a few of the other detectives mentioned having to be interviewed and then tested with distaste. He, apparently, wasn't under suspicion. And that was what he had wanted and needed. He had decided he would stay until the end of the week, and then he would go, hopefully without much notice. He just had to tell Natalie, discretely hand in his resignation to Cohen, and vanish. Since even before the announcement, he had slowly cleared out his home of his things, knowing he would be leaving before too long. All that was left was impersonal belongings...things he didn't care whether he kept or not, mostly furniture and a few paintings he didn't particularly want. And the piano. He hadn't yet had the chance to get it moved out, but then the instrument had turned out to be a pleasant way to spend the day, as he often found he couldn't sleep. Arriving home just as the sun rose, Nick noticed Natalie's car outside. How long had she been waiting for him? The previous night, after he had taken more of her blood, he had told her to not visit for a few days at the least. But then, Natalie had been concerned about him; had he really expected that she would do as asked? Nick quickly pulled the Caddy into the garage and then headed upstairs via the elevator. In a way, he was glad Natalie had come. She wouldn't have to wait to know his decision, and he would have more time to spend with her. The instant he pulled the elevator door to the side, however, Nick froze. The scent of blood filled his senses. It didn't take more than a quick glance to see that Natalie was lying on the ground, completely still. "Natalie..." Nick whispered as he flew to her. Coming to a stop, he immediately kneeled next to her. Natalie's heart was still as she lay in her own blood, her left hand having slid back, smearing the blood on the floor, her throat deeply slit. She was dead. Nick's eyes drifted to the blood on the floor. Despite the freshness, he wasn't the slightest bit hungry and had no desire for any of it. But he had to know something about what had happened, anything, and so he reached his hand down, letting his fingers touch the moist liquid. Slowly, Nick brought his fingers toward his lips, but hesitated. Even though he had tasted Natalie's blood many times, he feared this time. He closed his eyes and licked the blood off, focusing as much as he could. He felt her fear as she realised she was not alone. She had struggled. Then she had been killed, her throat slashed. Then all he tasted was the still tinge of death. Nick opened his eyes. Natalie's death had at least been relatively quick. But it was so very senseless. What had Natalie done to deserve this? But he knew--she had befriended him. Standing, Nick noticed where Natalie had tried to stop her attacker-- likely a mortal--from reaching her. But the blood.... The blood had been drained after she was killed. But...why? And then Nick sensed it; there was a heartbeat nearby. In fact, he had sensed it even when he came in, but finding Natalie dead had taken his full attention. He had then forgotten about the sound, thinking at first it had been Natalie, or perhaps even his imagination. Nick turned toward the heartbeat, catching a glimpse of a man in the shadows. They had planned this. Natalie wasn't even the target--he was. And it was after dawn, the sun getting warmer by the minute. A bullet ripped into his shoulder. He nearly darted toward the man, but the sharp pain told him this was no ordinary bullet. It hadn't passed through him, for one, and by the faint burning sensation he suspected it was largely wood. Add the tingling numbness he felt coming from the region, and he knew it was likely somehow drugged. Nick flew out of the way as another bullet shot toward him. And then, closing his eyes for a second, he knew he had only one option, one way out. Nick flew straight up and through the unshuttered--but unopened-- skylight and into the bright dawn light, feeling another bullet hit him in the side. Instinctively he went for cover, forcing himself to fly as far as he could before reaching the faint safety shade offered. And then he only stayed a moment before starting off again as he heard the sound of approaching sirens. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Schanke had heard the dispatch on his way home, "...units to 101 Gateway Lane." Immediately, he had turned his car toward Nick's, and a short few minutes later he had pulled up among several squad cars. He headed inside, not asking what happened. He expected it would be Nick, probably killed, nothing but a faint reminder of him left. But, instead, he was confronted with Natalie, lying in a pool of blood, as the subject of the scene. And Nick was nowhere to be found. To make matters worse, Nick was the initial and sole suspect. And by the flits of conversation he heard, Nick had also been pegged as a vampire--by the lone bottle of human blood in his refrigerator. In a mild state of shock, Schanke's mind screamed at him that this was all wrong. He barely learned anything more before Cohen stepped up to him, blocking his path toward Natalie. "Detective, I think it would be best if you return to the precinct." "No. Nick did not do this!" Schanke stated, point-blank, before Cohen could tell him otherwise. "There is no way in--" "Detective, I'm ordering you off this scene. You're too close to this." "So, what, some agent from that crack-pot-run group is going to question me about Nick?" "I suggest that you refrain from using the crack-pot comment, Schanke." "Wait, you mean...." "Yes. They are sending an agent to speak with you. They are very interested in what you might be able to tell them." "About Nick." "Yes. And about Dr. Lambert." The mention made Schanke turn toward where Natalie lay, her body now under a sheet. "They don't think.... Captain--" "No, they do not believe she was a vampire. However, they do suspect she was aiding Knight with keeping what he was secret, likely covering up for him." Schanke swallowed at that, not giving a reply. "Swanson!" Cohen called, catching the attention of a passing officer. "Tell Pierce you're taking Schanke and his car back to the precinct." Swanson nodded and went to find his partner. "Captain--" "A good friend of yours has been murdered and your partner is the most likely suspect. You are going back to the precinct, and then you're going home and staying there for the next several days. Detective, you will not be working anywhere near this case." "I know Nick, and I know he couldn't have done this. I don't care what they say he is or what he's done in the past, he--" "Schanke, two IVEA agents are taking this case. They will consider any and all information obtained carefully." "Yeah, I bet they will. And twist it--" Cohen glared at her Detective. "Why?" Schanke then demanded, citing, "This isn't an international crime." "It is a given that any vampires discovered have no claim of citizenship or immunity in this or most other countries." "But shouldn't it be a cooperation? Isn't that how it's supposed to work if we suspect someone of being a vampire or we find evidence of a vampire?" "Yes, but this is murder, Schanke. And the suspected vampire is a cop. All investigative powers go to the IVEA." Schanke set his jaw. He hated that part of this. It was like stripping someone, of a vital part of ones identity. There surely had to be vampires that had lived their entire lives in their birth country. But he already knew that even that didn't count. There was nothing he could do. When Swanson returned, Cohen told Schanke, "Give Swanson your keys. He'll take you back to the precinct." Getting a glare from Schanke, Cohen told him, "My hands are tied on this. I'm only here to supervise the scene until the agents arrive. After that, I'll be just as uninvolved as you." Seeing Cohen's dislike of this as much as he, Schanke felt a bit better. But he still hesitated in handing over his keys. He had no wish to leave. What would they find to incriminate his partner? And how much had been planted? He knew for a fact that Nick hadn't had any bottled blood since before the announcement was made that vampires even existed. If that had been planted, what else had? How much more of the crime scene had been contrived? He gave his keys to Swanson, exhaling. At least Cohen was right about one thing--he had no wish to drive anywhere right now. As soon as he left here, he suspected his thoughts would only run wild. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. [Friday, May 12th, 1995] Schanke stared blankly at a TV in one of the conference rooms. Several other officers and detectives were also in the room, watching, stunned, at a special news report. "Dr. Natalie Lambert, County Coroner, was found dead this morning in Toronto at the home of Toronto Homicide Detective Nicholas Knight. While little information has been released, an IVEA agent, when asked about the agency's involvement in this case, stated that Knight is the suspected killer and was also recently flagged as a vampire in their files, despite careful screens of all city employees. "Citizens have already raised questions regarding the IVEA's competency and the possibility of giving them even more leeway in such matters. They cite that Knight would have been prevented from killing if his passing of the screening did not instantly add what the IVEA are referring to as 'red-tape'. Citizens are also questioning the resourcefulness of vampires, as Knight apparently had a supply of human blood despite the IVEA's careful observation and destruction of such supplies. The IVEA have stated that Knight might be a particularly dangerous vampire and that there may be more like him still passing for human. "When asked what flagged Knight as a vampire, IVEA agent Marissa Burns stated it was the identical characteristics of Toronto Detective Nicholas Knight to a Civil War doctor of the same name discovered while investigating another vampire. When asked if they had more information on Knight, Agent Burns declined to answer, stating that they have only begun an investigation on Knight's history and that they know little about him at the moment other than his present name. "More information will be released as we receive it. We will now return to--" Schanke turned and walked out, hoping to avoid questions from the other officers. After all, he had been Nick's partner. But, for whatever reason--perhaps because of Natalie's death--no one said anything to him. Not to ask if he had known what Nick was, if he thought Nick did it, or a mention of how horrible Natalie's death had been. Nothing. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Myra nonchalantly turned a corner out of the hall and into the living room, her heart jumping when she came face to face with Nick. She stepped back, stopping only when he reached out, a hand taking her upper arm, the grip very light. Before she could speak, she watched Nick double over in pain, and then walk right by her and into the kitchen. She followed him, calling his name, but he didn't answer. Earlier, her husband had called, mentioning what had happened to Natalie, that Nick had vanished, and that he had to go back to the precinct. Remembering his insistence that Nick couldn't have done this, no matter what he was, Myra felt a little more confident as she approached Nick. When he vomited blood into the sink, Myra's attention switched to his state. Scanning him, she could see burns on his face, neck and hands, and also what looked like two bullet wounds, one to the shoulder and another in his side, both of which looked like they were still bleeding. After several minutes passed and Nick seemed to be doing better--at the very least not vomiting blood anymore, the blood now all rinsed down the drain--she took a step closer, again calling his name. Nick didn't turn toward Myra. The second bullet didn't seem to have the same effect as the first...which he was now certain had been drugged somehow. Between that, the burns, and the wounds, he was having trouble focusing. It had taken over an hour to get to Schanke's to begin with. And now that he was there and felt relatively safe, he found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything. "Nick, are you okay? Schanke called, told me about...." Nick closed his eyes. Was it news already? What were they saying? He felt another wave of pain, and he no longer cared. He grabbed for the counter and pulled out a drawer, only to find it filled with dishcloths and kitchen towels. What had he been looking for? "Is there something I can do?" Nick slowly turned to face Myra, trying to think. "I need...." He closed his eyes as yet more pain and now a very definitive weakness washed through him. "I was shot with...some type of bullet, or.... Something on it or in it...I need something to remove them. Something to grip and pull them out...anything that might--" Myra watched Nick tightly grip the counter and again cough up more blood. She hated to leave him like this, but she knew there was a pair of large tweezers in the bathroom that might help. She rushed to retrieve them, freezing for a moment as she heard a strange thud come from the kitchen. Hurrying back, Myra again froze when she saw Nick on the ground, a bit of blood on both the floor and the corner of the drawer Nick had pulled out. She knelt down and gently turned his head away from the linoleum to reveal a deep and jagged gash among the burns. Vampires were supposed to heal quickly, she thought, but Nick appeared to be doing nothing of the sort. Then she remembered the tweezers still in her hand and that Nick had wanted the bullets out. For a good minute, Myra didn't move. She wanted to help, but had never done anything quite like this. She took in a deep breath. Despite some fear at what would happen when Nick woke, as after all if he were a vampire he would likely want blood, she did what she could to remove the bullets. She removed his jacket with difficulty, and then unbuttoned his shirt to get at the wounds. She then braced herself and removed the bullets, neither of which had embedded very deeply. The one in his shoulder had come out in a single piece, although barely, a deep fissure running down one side. The second came out in one piece, slightly cracked where the wood met the metal tip, but not nearly in pieces like the first. As she sat the bullets on a plate, a clear liquid slowly oozed out of the first after a couple of minutes. Her hands had trembled the entire time, with the only thought allowing her to continue being knowing that she could likely do no harm to him. And she also wanted to know what had happened and couldn't just stand by and watch someone suffer. Now, even as her hands still shook, Myra's fingers itched to call her husband, but if Nick were the primary suspect in killing Natalie...it would do nothing to help either Nick, herself, or her husband. At the very least, Nick's injuries looked less severe, even if he was still unconscious. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Schanke sat uncomfortably in the interview room across from an IVEA agent. The agent, Mark Evans, exhaled. "Detective, do you understand what is happening? That your partner is a confirmed vampire and--" "He did not kill Natalie." "Even knowing that he's not human? That it is in his nature to kill, his very instinct?" "It's not like him. That scene.... Nick never could have done that." "And why do you say that? Perhaps because of irrational personal reasons...?" Evans suggested. Schanke fidgeted. He didn't want to say anything about Nick, but he didn't like how they were forcing Nick into the mould they had created for all vampires, a mould that wasn't a catchall. "I've worked with Nick plenty long enough to know him. And I don't care if Nick's a vampire or not. I don't see why it should matter. He's just as human as I am." "But that's it--he's not human. Doesn't the knowledge that he's probably thought of you as a meal more than once make you doubt your loyalty to him?" Schanke set his jaw. "No." "What do you know about him, Detective Schanke?" Evans asked. He pulled out a file folder and read off, "Nicholas B. Knight, date of birth January 1, 1957. And how much of that do you think is true? Obviously, the birth year is false. But how far off is it? You don't know, do you?" Agent Evans carefully studied the Detective's reaction, quickly realising that the other clearly had no idea. Evans smirked. "You don't know anything more about him than is on the news, do you? He hasn't been very trusting with you. And I thought he was your friend?" Feeling nervous, Schanke shifted in his chair, inwardly wincing, knowing the agent would read into his action. "We've placed him as a Doctor during the American Civil War. It might sound like a respectable, caring occupation, but did you know that war attracts vampires? It's all the bloodshed, the easy prey, the death.... To them, what does it matter if the dying pass from life a little quicker?" Schanke swallowed at the inference, not sure what to think. "Did you know your partner's description also comes up in an unsolved 1974 Los Angeles murder investigation?" Agent Evans took out a file folder and tossed it in front of Schanke. "Take a look." Gingerly, Schanke opened the file. The sketch of the suspect looked exactly like Nick. Worse, all three murders had female victims with punctures to the throat. Autopsy revealed that the victims had all died of blood loss despite very little blood found near or on the victims. A vampire had killed the women. Nick was a vampire. And Nick had been linked to all three victims. Hiding his shock and fear as well as he could, Schanke closed the file and pushed it across the table toward Evans. He had seen enough. "A rather interesting read, wasn't it?" Schanke didn't answer. And then, between the comments, the unsolved nature of the case, and that it seemed that these agents had missed what Nick was the first time around, Schanke thought aloud, "He's gone, isn't he?" Now it was Evans' turn to remain silent, but observing. "You thought you could kill him, but instead you lost him." Ignoring the change in subject to the present situation, Evans stated, "You're in denial." "Nick couldn't have done that," Schanke nearly yelled, giving a curt nod to the file. "Really? Then you would describe him as a model detective?" Evans pulled out another file, opened it, and smiled as he glanced at Knight's file. "Let's see...he's described as a hotshot by other officers, does not work well with others, disregard for rules, etc, etc. It's amazing he hasn't been suspended for some of this...." "And maybe you should look at more his file." "What, his so-called commendations for bravery? As a vampire, he wasn't risking anything. He likely used what he was to get those." Schanke stiffened. He hated that Evans was just twisting everything against Nick. "What does any of this have to do with now?" "You tell me. How close would you say Knight and Dr. Lambert were?" "They were good friends." "Do you think she knew what he was?" Schanke nearly said no, but realised the question was trying to set him up to get information. "If anyone knew, it would have been Natalie. If she actually knew or not, I don't know." "Take a look at those 1974 victims, Detective. Look carefully at the autopsy results." Schanke cautiously opened the folder again, scanning the autopsy results more thoroughly. He froze. All three victims had been fed off of, repeatedly. They had all been bitten a total of either four or five times. He knew Nick had been feeding from Natalie.... "You might find it interesting to know Dr. Lambert has over half a dozen bite marks. He'd been feeding from her, weakening her, possibly planning to kill her." "Nick had no reason to kill her." "Perhaps she found something out about him that was unacceptable? Perhaps she was going to turn him in? He couldn't allow that, could he?" Schanke stood up. He had had enough of this so-called 'interview'. As far as he was concerned, this agent was merely trying to get his opinion of Nick to change. "Can I leave, or are you going to actually start asking useful questions, like who had access to Nick's home or maybe when I last saw either of them?" Evans leaned back, closing Knight's file. "You're free to go." Schanke left before the agent changed his mind, bumping into another agent, that redheaded Marissa Burns, as he left the room. Marissa entered and asked her partner, "Anything useful?" "He's still in shock. I don't think he had any idea what Knight was before tonight. He's in denial, can't believe his partner's a vampire. I gave him a few things to think about, though." "Are we going to try again?" "No. No, I don't think he'll help us--no matter what we throw at him. Besides, Knight's probably long gone or will be by sunset. He won't stay here long. We'll have to catch up to him another way." Downward Spiral - (06/27) Nick woke pain free, the linoleum behind his bare lower back sending an odd chill through him. He slowly sat up and then stood, buttoning his shirt after noticing the bullets he'd been shot with had been removed. He was still nauseous, and his hunger and light-headedness vied for attention. Myra came around the corner, startled slightly upon finding Nick standing. Only a faint pinkish tinge of his skin remained of his burns, his other injuries appearing completely gone. "I was starting to worry; you've been out for hours. Do you, ah, feel any better?" Nick simply nodded. While he did feel better than he did, he felt nowhere near well. Hearing a snippet of the morning news, Nick slowly walked around Myra and toward the television. He stopped in front of it. Not only were his and Natalie's names and faces flashing on screen from time to time, but there was also yet another list of vampires found and killed. He watched the faces and names flash by in the bottom right corner of the screen. A couple of the faces almost seemed familiar, or was it simply the haunted, frightened expression most held? Only his picture seemed lacking of the fearful hints. But even his photo--which was his badge photo--held an odd haunted tinge to it. Did mortals see it? Or was he just seeing things? Nick jumped as Myra touched his arm. He immediately closed his eyes, feeling his hunger jump, remaining even as the hand retreated. "I can turn it off, if you'd like?" "No," Nick immediately answered. "No, it's fine. I'd like to know what's happening." "It's a mess. Or, it was. You're...at the top of their list. Well, actually you're the only one officially wanted...." Nick sat down on the couch, closing his eyes as he leaned back. But he reopened his eyes, feeling himself begin to nod off with just listening to the news. "They don't know much about you." Myra paused, and then asked, "Did Natalie know?" Nick stiffened at the question, but answered, "Yes, she knew what I was." "And my husband? Did you tell him?" Myra asked, her nervousness showing in her voice. Nick turned to her, meeting her gaze. She didn't hold any mallace toward him, just curiosity and fear. He would have suspected she would have noticed the wounds on Schanke's arm, that Schanke might have even told her, but she either hadn't or wasn't making the connection. Looking away, he stated, "I didn't deny what I was when he asked; he's known since just after the existence of my kind were made public." When Myra seemed to accept his answer, Nick turned his attention back to the news. Focusing on what was being said about him, Nick noticed a change had been made. The bios for the vampires killed still had the deep blue background they had always had. His, however, was maroon. Whether or not the IVEA wanted it, they would have to reveal the identities of more suspected vampires soon. The public would latch on to it and demand it, considering the number of those killed. His eyes darted along his mini-file the next time it popped up. Current name, and age of 175+ was all that was listed. Despite his tiredness, Nick smiled. "What?" Myra asked, noticing an oddly pleased expression on Nick's face considering a good friend of his had just died and he was the suspect in her murder. "I don't fit their mould. They'll be hesitant to reveal anything about me, especially my age." In explanation, he added, "I'm older than any of those they have so far...revealed." After a few minutes, a bit nervous, Myra said, "I...haven't told anyone you're here." "And I'm grateful of that." Myra slowly nodded. And then, not quite meeting Nick's eyes, she asked, "I don't want to insult you by asking you this, but did you kill Natalie?" "No." Nick looked down, shutting his eyes tight against his anger. "I knew you were good friends." Myra approached, sitting next to Nick. "Don called a few minutes before you woke. He said he'd be home soon." Nick slowly nodded. Schanke was whom he wanted to talk to, wanted to see. He felt like he needed a few days to recover. He was so very tired.... But he would only stay with permission. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Leaving the precinct after calling Myra, Schanke headed home only to turn around less than a minute from home. He started drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He was tired, but his mind wouldn't let him rest. Could Agent Evans have a point? How much information on Nick did they have? The information on the Los Angeles cases seemed credible, but Nick just...couldn't. He had said that vampires didn't often feed from mortals. No, Nick had said they didn't often kill for blood, that it wasn't typical in this time. Nick hadn't said anything about himself on that if he, personally, killed for blood from time to time. And 1974? That was a mere twenty-one years ago. And Natalie.... He'd think for someone to survive being fed from that many times the vampire would have to have some experience keeping the human alive. And that meant that Nick had to have done this before. It was hard knowing that much of what Evans said could very well be right. He had seen Nick's hunger before he had taken his blood. And, as Evans had pointed out, Nick really didn't have a problem bending the rules when he felt like it. But Nick actually killing someone? Sure, Nick had the ability to kill. But didn't everyone have that? And as a cop, you had to think that way. You had to think about what the suspect might do next, sometimes even did have to kill or risk killing someone to stop them. But Nick wasn't trigger-happy. He'd seen cops like that. Nick used his weapon less than he did, less than most cops. But then, did Nick even need his gun? Vampires didn't need weapons to kill. He'd felt the strength Nick had, expecting he could break bones with little more than a quick and simple movement. Nick held great control over what he was; he had to, to be a cop. Schanke swallowed, realising he'd been overlooking something. Nick did have great control. How much of the real Nick had he seen? How much had Nick allowed him to see? Truthfully, he didn't know Nick. He had possibly learned more about Nick's past from Agent Evans than he had from the source. And Natalie.... Had Natalie possibly paid for trusting Nick too easily? Or was he just thinking too much? Stifling a yawn, Schanke directed his car back toward home. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. A instant after her husband arrived home, Myra saw him stop cold upon seeing Nick on the couch, asleep. "Myra, what--" "He got here this morning, an hour or two after dawn." "Has he done anything to you?" Schanke asked, his thoughts from earlier inciting his worry. "No." Figuring her husband would want to know how Nick was, she explained, "He was burned when he arrived. He was weak, and he'd been shot." The last statement pushed Schanke's concern more on Nick. "Shot?" "Twice. And he was drugged, I think. He needs to rest. Let him sleep while I pick Jenny up from school?" Schanke tensed. Jenny. He had spent so much time at the precinct, and then delayed coming home. And Nick was here, and.... Schanke shook his head and walked over to where Nick slept, even as Myra tugged on his arm, trying to keep him away. But he had to know, from Nick, what was true and what wasn't. Nick would tell him, give him an answer, or he would tell Nick to get out right then and there. Stopping next to Nick, Schanke reached down to his partner, taking his arm, and then went to pull Nick up into a sitting position. Nick instinctively pulled away as he woke from the touch. He slipped out of the grip with difficulty, landing on the floor, which jarred him the rest of the way awake. "Schanke?" Myra stepped closer, at which Schanke said, "Go pick up Jenny. I want to talk to Nick alone." From where Myra stood Nick was the one at a disadvantage, and she turned her focus on him. When Nick gave her a nod and turned back to her husband, Myra asked, "What should I tell her?" "Nothing for the moment. Just...I'll think of something, okay? Nick can help." Schanke then shot a glare at Nick, waiting for Myra to leave. Once Myra had left and they were alone, Nick stated, "I didn't kill her, Schanke." "I want to know a couple things, Nick. Where were you in 1974?" Nick tensed. If Schanke was asking, he either knew something or had been told something. "Los Angeles. Why?" Schanke felt sick. "I want the truth on this, Nick. Did you kill anyone while there?" "No," Nick whispered. "No one?" "No one, Schanke." "But you were in Los Angeles?" "Yes." Schanke paused. Either Nick was lying or the Agents were messing with him. "Have you ever fed from someone like you have from Natalie?" Nick involuntarily shrunk back. "Not...recently, and not to such a degree, but yes." "What about in 1974?" "Schanke, I...." "Come on, Nick. Give me something about you and about this that I don't know." Nick closed his eyes. He hadn't planned on telling Schanke more about him, hadn't wanted to get Schanke even this involved. He had planned on leaving, merely mentioning to Schanke that he would be gone. "In the last hundred years, I've rarely killed. I haven't even drunk human blood regularly in that time. Taking Natalie's blood--it was very hard for me to do that to her. I never even let myself take enough, especially the last couple of weeks." "The stuff in those cookies...that's why it affected you so much, why you were so hungry, why...." "Schanke? Would you give me a hand up?" Schanke stood in place, frozen for several seconds, just staring. Nick needed help up? Was Nick really that weak, or did he just want to conserve energy? Or perhaps simply want to show a little trust? Whatever the case, Schanke reached a hand out to Nick, whose cold grip seemed icier than usual, and he pulled Nick to his feet. He then watched Nick sit back down on the couch, his unsteadiness apparent for the few seconds he had been standing. "What happened this morning? I mean, you had to know. You were there. Your fingerprints...." Nick nodded, and then explained what had happened from when he had entered and smelt Natalie's blood, to realising another was there and being shot at, and then him fleeing and the time spent since. Schanke's doubt quickly vanished, with Nick showing him the removed bullets the clincher. As it was only fair, he told Nick about his interview with the IVEA agent. Finishing, Schanke stated, "They made that up about you. They were trying to get me to give you away, to turn on you and see if I knew anything that would help them." "Thank you for not doing so, Schank." "I couldn't tell them anything, though. I don't know enough about you to--" "You know more than enough. There's Janette, the Raven, and--" Nick cut off, but too late. "Janette. So, she is a vampire, yes?" Nick squirmed, uncomfortably. He didn't answer. "And--" "Schanke.... Let's just say you know plenty enough about me to give them a good lead. Little inconsequential bits of information...gold mines to them." "Do you, ah, think they'll find you?" Nick looked away. "After I leave here? I don't know. Probably. But how or when that will play out, I don't know." Schanke watched Nick's attention abruptly turn toward the door and asked, "What is it?" "Myra and Jenny." Schanke looked to the door just as a somewhat nervous Myra opened the door, Jenny following, and an involuntary shiver ran through him at the ease at which Nick knew someone was approaching. Jenny stepped inside, her eyes going wide upon seeing Nick there. She already knew what had happened--she had seen it on the news just before she left for school. Locking her eyes on Nick, she bluntly asked, "So, did you do it?" "Jenny!" Myra exclaimed at the abruptness. And then she answered, "And no, he didn't kill her." "But you are a vampire, aren't you?" Jenny prodded, slowly stepping closer, cautious but curious. "Yes," Nick answered, doing his best to make his expression pleasant despite his weariness. "Is what's been said on TV about vampires true?" "About our abilities and disabilities, yes. Much of the rest is biased or untrue." "So, you don't want to kill me, or drink my blood?" "No," Nick said. And although it was true that he had no desire to harm her, he still tensed. Between the events of the morning and being weakened so much, he genuinely had no real want for blood, not even a little. "Can I--" Jenny cut off as her mother put a hand on her shoulder. "Room and homework." "But--" "Perhaps later, if Nick feels up to it, he'll let you ask some questions?" Myra said, turning her attention to Nick. When Nick nodded after a moment, Jenny brightened and hurried off to her room. "Will you?" Schanke asked. "Maybe, if I'm awake." "If you're...." Schanke then asked in a whisper, "How are you doing, really?" Nick's eyes darted away from both Schanke and Myra. He could feel their concern for him. "You leaving tonight?" "No," Nick answered. "Not tonight. If I can stay here, that is?" Schanke automatically nodded. How could he refuse? Then, slowly, he went still, realising Nick likely had few reasons to remain. "Wait...you're going to try and stay for Natalie's funeral, aren't you?" Schanke watched his partner stiffen, but not answer. "You know, I should throw you out for your own good." Nick looked down once again, but shook his head. However much he wanted to stay, he knew he couldn't. "No, I should be gone before then." Meeting his partner's eyes, he evenly stated, "And yes, it would probably be best, for both of us. I don't think it would be wise--for you or your family--if I stay more than a couple of nights, if that." No one immediately said anything. After conversation became awkward, Myra fidgeted slightly and then headed toward the hall, saying, "Well, you're here at least until tonight. I'm going to straighten the spare room up a bit for you and find some clothes that are better than those destroyed ones you have on." Nick then slowly leaned back into the couch, relaxing once again. He tried to focus on anything, something...but everything was either blank or a muddled mess. "Where are you going to head to?" At that, Nick's eyes shot toward Schanke. "Well, I guess it's probably best if you don't say...but so you have somewhere in mind?" Nick looked away, absently looking about the room. Truthfully, he didn't know where he would go. He hadn't been able to sense even a hint of Janette or LaCroix for a couple of weeks--not even enough to know what direction to head in. And he had tried. Perhaps they had fled too far? "No," he finally answered. "No, I don't know where I'll go." A few minutes later, Myra returned, mentioning where he could sleep and that she had set out some clothes and a towel for him, if he wished to take a shower. Nick simply nodded. He didn't want to move. Then, when Myra became a little nervous, her eyes darting at the increasing sunlight streaming into the room, he told her, "I'll be fine out here for a while." "I'll make sure Jenny knows not to disturb you," Myra said. Before Nick could protest, Myra had vanished down the hall. It was probably best, anyway. For now, he just wanted to sit and not think of anything.... Downward Spiral - (07/27) Suddenly, Nick woke from sensing someone hovering over him only to have it confirmed by a rapid--and rather nervous--heartbeat. In the dark room, he instantly reached out and grabbed the mortal by the arms. When the small form went to flee, he turned and pulled her back, instinctively preventing a scream by covering her mouth. It was Jenny. Nick closed his eyes, holding her in place for several seconds before slowly releasing her. Jenny turned around and took several steps away from the bed. "I didn't mean to--" "What time is it?" Nick asked, his eyes darting to the dark and silent hall behind Jenny. "Ah, it's 5:19 AM. Or it was...." After five...the sun would once again be up soon. He had slept far longer than he had intended. Nick fell back onto the bed. He was still tired. He closed his eyes, but opened them a minute later when the heartbeat approached and Jenny sat on the bottom corner of the bed. "You know, you don't look like a vampire." Jenny folded her legs, sitting cross-legged, and then mentioned, "But then I don't think the others do, either...the ones they've shown pictures of." Nick closed his eyes again. He had spent hours and hours staring at the news, and the pictures flashed in his mind involuntarily. "I don't think it's right. You don't seem...evil, like they say you are." When Nick didn't speak, she slowly continued, "The pictures...it's lonely being a vampire, isn't it?" Lonely.... Nick thought about that, the images flitting slower and slower until they stopped. Yes, being a vampire was lonely. And he slipped back to sleep. "All the pictures look so sad and tired." Jenny inched closer to Nick until she sat next to him. "Nick?" She prodded his arm, but he stayed still. Carefully, Jenny backed up and off the bed, not wanting to disturb him again. Reaching the door, she pulled it back with her, nearly shutting it as she felt the air move behind her, a woman's hand pressing against the door. Jenny looked to the side and could just make out the stark contrasted outline of a pale complexioned, dark- haired woman. "I will not harm you," Janette whispered. Then, with a nod toward the room the girl had come from, she asked, "Is Nicolas...?" "He's, ah...." Jenny started, barely in a whisper, but ended up merely nodding. Pushing the door open, Janette walked past the girl and into the room. She sat on the bed's edge, setting a fabric tote on the floor next to the bed, which clanked against the dresser. Janette gently touched Nick's face. He remained asleep. Janette's gaze shifted to the door as the girl vanished from sight, likely off to wake her parents. Her primary focus returned to Nick, whose skin felt unusually cold. Schanke recognised Janette the instant Myra flipped on the light. But here, now? "Janette, what--" Janette turned, her eyes locking onto Myra. "I think it would be best if you and your daughter left." Nervously, having neither seen nor heard anything about this woman before, Myra asked, "Are you, ah, a friend of Nick's?" After a short moment of hesitation, Janette told her, almost smiling, "Yes, we're...rather old friends." When Myra didn't back out of the room, Schanke turned and guided both Myra and Jenny out into the hall. "Detective." Schanke turned, surprised at the single soft word. "You may remain, if you wish." Schanke looked back and over at Nick. His partner still slept, despite the sure disruption of the past minutes. When Myra pulled away, taking Jenny with her, Schanke nodded to Janette. He would stay. Once satisfied that the other two had left, Janette told him, "Bring me a glass." The order made Schanke tense. "Why?" Janette reached into the bag she set on the floor and pulled out a half-filled wine bottle. She held it, fingering the unlabelled glass. "Oh," Schanke said as his breath abruptly left him. "Yeah, yeah, I'll...ah, I'll be right back..." he said, stepping away from the doorway. He walked halfway back to his bedroom before realising the kitchen was the other way and turned around. Janette gently smiled at the mortal's nervous manner. Then, she slowly walked around to the other side of the bed and sat on the edge next to Nick. Leaning down, she kissed him on the lips, at which Nick slowly woke. And when he did, he kissed her back, a hand holding her loosely in place. Sensing the mortal's return, Janette gradually pulled back and sat up, her fingers resting against Nick's lips as he closed his eyes. Nick lay there, still, listening to his partner's nearby heartbeat. Opening his eyes, he reached a hand up and pulled Janette's fingers away. "Janette, you shouldn't have--" Janette replaced her fingers on his lips, stopping him. "You would rather I had not come?" A hint of anger touched her features at his worry over her safety. "We've been worried about you, Nicolas, and with reason. You were staying so very long...." Janette ran her fingers along Nick's bottom lip. "We haven't sensed you for weeks. Nothing. LaCroix, he--" Janette cut off, the mortal's stiffening at the name telling her she had said something that was new to him. She turned to Schanke, and not bothering to ask Nick if he minded, she explained, "LaCroix is the one who brought Nicolas over." "LaCroix?" Schanke asked, a bit puzzled. Somehow he felt that Janette thought he should know who this LaCroix was...and the name did sound familiar. Nick's eyes slipped shut once again and he turned his head away from Schanke. "Nicolas hasn't told you?" Janette turned her focus fully on Nick, and it was clear he had said nothing to Schanke of LaCroix. She pursed her lips, and then asked, "Has he said anything about me?" "Nope. Nada. Wouldn't even confirm if you were like him or not. Granted, he didn't deny it, either, but...nope, nothing." "Hmm.... Not even a hint of...blame?" "Janette...." "Tell him, then." When Janette saw that Nick was going to resist, she half-snapped, "You trust him enough to come here, Nicolas. And what has he asked for in return?" Schanke, between seeing how uncomfortable Nick was becoming and feeling that discomfort himself as he listened in, interjected, "You don't have to say anything, Nick." Nick shook his head, "No, I should say something. At least about LaCroix. You've...met him, in a way." He smiled half-heartedly and asked Schanke, "That 'creep' I used to listen to?" "That NightCrawler guy?" Nick nodded. Then, after a few seconds, he stated, "LaCroix." Schanke uncomfortably fingered the glass he had retrieved from the kitchen. So, that was why Nick listened. Janette's eyes caught on the bloodstained bullet hole in Nick's shirt, and her worry skyrocketed. "What happened yesterday morning? By the news, I thought--" "I'm fine now, Janette." And then, Nick explained the short confrontation he had when finding Natalie. Janette closed her eyes for several seconds, and then put the bottle of blood on the dresser. She pulled Nick up, trying to get him to sit up...but he wasn't helping her. Between his explanation and how Nick had been slowly starving himself, she didn't bother asking or commenting. Instead, she moved behind him, helping him sit up by leaning against her. She nodded toward the mortal, her eyes gesturing to the glass in his hands. Schanke moved slowly forward, and he handed the glass to Janette, who had already pulled the cork out of the bottle. "Janette, I don't want--" "I know you don't, but you must. Just a few sips, and then you can sleep some more?" Nick nearly protested, but he could handle a little. He didn't feel like arguing right now. He let Janette pour him a few ounces of blood, and then he slowly drank it. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Several hours later, long past dawn, Schanke poked his head into the spare room, surprised when he found Janette awake, lying on the other side of Nick. Janette looked up and over toward the door, sensing the mortal watching her. "Yes, Detective?" "What's wrong with him?" Schanke asked, nodding to Nick, who had slept most of the morning since Janette had arrived. "He has had far too little blood recently. It is what happens to us when we are on the brink of starvation." When the mortal shifted nervously, she told him, "Do not worry; Nicolas will be fine." Schanke nearly asked another question, when the doorbell rang. He heard Myra go to the door, and then he heard Cohen's voice. Schanke's eyes widened, and after giving Nick a glance, he quickly and quietly backed up, pulling the door shut once he was in the hall. Schanke then headed toward the front door, slowing as Captain Cohen came into sight. As Myra left, he asked, "Captain?" "I'm sorry to come here like this, but I looked over the IVEA's interview of you and I was not impressed." "Not much of an interview, huh?" "I wouldn't know on that, Detective." Cohen paused, explaining, "Much of the transcript was blacked out." "So you're here to question me?" "Unofficially, yes." "Unofficially?" "The case is closed, Detective, and I have no more say in this matter than you do. The IVEA has made up their mind." "They had that made up before they even talked to me, Captain." Cohen nodded, dropping some of her professional manner. "Shall I interview you here, in the entryway, or--" "Yeah, yeah, you should come in," Schanke said, somewhat preoccupied. Between knowing this conversation would bring back seeing Natalie, dead, and would surely focus on Nick, who was hiding in his house.... "We can do this some other time?" "No. No, now is as good as any." Schanke led Cohen into the living room, letting her decide where to sit first. Once Cohen sat on the couch, Schanke chose to sit in a recliner, nearly opposite of her on the same side of the room. "I take it you being here means you don't think Nick did it?" "I think there's reasonable doubt." "But you're not certain?" "No. But I take it you are?" "Nick didn't kill her." "And the rest? I might not have access to her autopsy, but I do know that what has been mentioned on the news is true. She had been bitten a number of times by a vampire. Fed from, repeatedly." Schanke froze. Maybe he would rather this waited a couple of days? He almost preferred the questioning he had received the previous morning over having to deceive Cohen, whether that be through out- right lying about not seeing Nick or merely giving his views on the matter--opinions based on information than he had no plans on sharing. Cohen was about to elaborate when Nick slowly approached seemingly out of nowhere, stopping any comment. He looked exhausted and unwell, and she recognised his clothes as those he had worn the last time she had seen him at work, although they were now rumpled and she spotted a couple of tears and blood stains on his jacket. Schanke noticed Cohen was distracted and turned. He instantly stood upon finding Nick there. "Uh, Captain, I--" "I was feeding from her," Nick stated, his voice soft and his eyes not quite meeting Cohen's. Janette stepped up to Nick from behind and tried to pull him back, tried to get him to change his mind on this. She stopped when it only made Nick stumble as he forced himself out of her touch. Cohen eyed the vaguely familiar woman. About the only thing she was sure of was that she was clearly a friend of Nick's and likely another vampire. Returning her focus to Nick, she asked, "With or without her permission?" "With." Nick glanced away before telling Cohen, "Natalie knew what I was. It was her insistence that I take her blood. I wanted to refuse, but I couldn't. I either had to take her blood or I had to leave, possibly drawing attention to myself...and in turn her." Janette stepped forward, walking around Nick, all the while keeping her attention on the woman. "Nicolas did not kill Natalie. I have known him for a very long time, and he would not." Taking a step forward, Nick took Janette by the shoulders, pulling her back. "Janette--" "Nicolas should rest," she said, her eyes focused solidly on Cohen. Nick pulled Janette back even further, and leaning forward toward her ear, said in a soft and almost harsh whisper, "Go, Janette. I'll be fine." "But--" "This is my choice, Janette! I wish to explain what happened, what I saw." Janette closed her eyes and looked to the side. She said nothing. After a few seconds, she moved aside and walked toward the bedroom, casting a glance back at Nick just before vanishing down the hall. "What happened...Nick?" Cohen asked, hesitating before saying Nick's first name. "I suppose Knight isn't your real name?" "No. No, it isn't." Nick paused, and then he explained everything from when he had arrived home the previous morning to when he had fled after being shot at. He even mentioned having tasted Natalie's blood, why he had done so, and what he had learned from it. And, briefly, that he suspected the IVEA was behind what happened. He mentioned very little of his time spent at Schanke's, other than to give a short detail of his reaction to what he was shot with. Cohen's eyes again flickered over Nick's clothes. She was still examining the bullet holes when he stood and, from his jacket, procured his gun and badge and sat them on the coffee table separating them. "I won't be needing these." "I can't take them, Detective. And I'm sure you are fully aware of that. Questions will be asked if I--or anyone else--ends up with possession of either item." She expected him to pick his badge and gun back up and, when he turned toward the hall and started off without so much as a word, her focus again returned to his tired manner. However much she wanted to speak with him about any number of things, Cohen knew him well enough to know he wouldn't answer her. Hearing a door shut down the hall, she turned to Schanke and flatly asked, "How is he?" "I honestly don't know." Then, after an awkward moment of quiet, Schanke asked, "Are you going to tell anyone about Nick being here?" Cohen tensed, but shook her head. "No, this visit was purely for my own interest. Just be careful." Schanke nodded and, as Cohen stood and started for the door, silently showed her out. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Janette entered the bedroom that evening, shortly before sunset, watching Nick take a sip of a glass of blood she had poured for him earlier. Although she had been gone for several minutes, the glass was nearly as full as it was when she left. In fact, his nervousness and tenseness as he sat in the chair in the room's corner told her that he had only taken that one sip. "Is it done?" Nick asked, not turning to look at Janette. "Yes. She'll remember nothing of your...visit. She is sleeping." Nick closed his eyes, looking down. He hadn't wanted to take Jenny's memories away, but he knew it had to be done, for safety. It was bad enough that both Myra and Schanke would remember.... Janette had brought the topic up earlier after Cohen had left and after mentioning that they should to leave that night. And he had agreed it had to be done, but had been reluctant to do so. Janette had suggested she should do it, that he had had enough stress over the past two days, not to mention the past several weeks. And then that had been the end of that conversation. "Nicolas?" Janette slowly approached Nick, watching as he stared at the blood, slowly swirling the glass, completely lost in thought. "Have you told your partner?" Nick stopped all movement. Still not turning to Janette, he told her, "No." "Nicolas.... We must leave as soon as the sun sets. You know that." She stepped up to him and brushed his hair back from one side of his face. "And you've barely touched your glass." "I'm not--" Janette tilted his gaze up to look at her. "I know, but it will take most of the night to reach where LaCroix and I are currently staying. You must drink as much as you can." Nick pulled his head back and away from Janette's touch, returning his attention fully to the glass of blood. He upended it, forcing himself to drink the whole glass at once. It was the only way he would manage more than a couple sips, even if he risked both feeling and becoming sick again. Nick then abruptly stood up, the action forcing Janette back. Janette followed Nick out of the room, picking up the bag that she had put the bottle back into. Nick hesitated as he went to the living room, only to find that his badge and gun weren't there. "I have them, Nicolas," Janette said, patting the bag slung over her shoulder. Nick slowly nodded, and then he froze as Schanke walked in from the kitchen. Schanke, seeing Nick resembling a deer caught in someone's headlights and Janette looking like she was ready to leave, didn't have to ask what it meant. "You're leaving and you won't be back, will you?" Nick averted his eyes. "Yes, and no, I probably won't." "I'll tell Jenny--" Schanke cut off when Nick stiffened. "Jenny has no memory of Nick or I having been here the last couple of days. Say nothing to her." Janette started for the back door. Just before she left, she urged, "Come, Nicolas, the sun has set." She then left, walking outside to wait for Nick. Nick gave one last glance to Schanke, giving him a nod as he, too, parted. Schanke called after Nick, wishing him luck, aware the chances of seeing his partner again were likely very slim. If at all. Downward Spiral - (08/27) Janette followed Nick down to the ground for the forth time that night. The first time, it was because he had gotten sick, apparently from the blood he had drank. The second time, he had needed to rest. The third time, he again needed to rest, during which she managed to persuade him to drink the remainder of the blood. And now? She spotted him, sliding down to the ground against a large tree as she landed. Janette hurried over to him. "Nicolas?" she prodded as she knelt on the packed dirt at the base of the tree, taking his face in her hands. His skin was so very cold, and he looked exhausted. She reached for his hands, taking them in her own, and then tried to urge him to his feet. "Come, Nicolas, it is not much further." Nick just shook his head, neither bothering to get to his feet nor pull out of Janette's grasp. He closed his eyes, muttering, "I'm tired, Janette." Janette rubbed the back of Nick's hands with her thumbs. She again attempted to urge him to get up, but she only felt him slip even further away from her as he lay down, eyes still closed. "Nicolas?" "I'm fine," he whispered. "Just need to rest a few...." "No, we must--" She stopped when his muscles gradually relaxed. He had fallen into a deep sleep. Janette closed her own eyes, but only for a few short seconds as she felt her own tiredness creeping in, trying to convince her that a quick nap would be good. But she didn't dare do so, not at early-morning while out in the open spare a few trees. They had been so very close to arriving.... Janette sat down next to Nick, her right hand occasionally caressing his cheek or neck, trying to wake him up. And, after nearly an hour, she managed it, his eyes slowly opening, unfocused. "Nicolas?" Nick slowly sat up, feeling his body ache as it sluggishly responded. "How long?" "Not quite an hour." Nick closed his eyes, taking in several deep breaths. Reaching her hands back up to Nick's face, holding each side, she told him, "I know you're not doing well, but we must continue." She felt his head nod ever so slightly. "The blood from earlier, how--" "I'm fine, Janette. I'll be fine." Nick forced himself away from Janette and to his feet. Slowly getting to her feet, Janette pursed her lips, watching Nick stand before her somewhat unsteadily. But he was standing, and they had less than an hour more to fly. She turned away and took off. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. LaCroix sensed Janette's arrival mere seconds before she pushed the door open, walking into the room tiredly. However, his concern immediately went to his son, who paused and leaned heavily against the doorframe, gripping it with one hand for even more support. Even as close as they were--a mere dozen feet and shrinking as he approached the younger man--he could not sense his son in any manner. He pushed by Janette to get to Nick quicker, and he quickly raised his hand and pressed it against his son's cheek without a reaction from the other. His skin was so very cold.... "Nicholas?" Again, he didn't get a response. Nick was so exhausted he couldn't speak, couldn't even take another step. He was starting to feel sick again, but he was too tired for that as well. His vision abruptly blurred, and he could feel the wood of the doorframe sliding against his hand and shoulder. LaCroix noticed the change just in time to slow Nick's fall, lowering him slowly to the ground. After closing the door to the sparse apartment, Janette stated, "He is very weak, LaCroix." She paused, hesitating before telling him, "When he found Natalie, they went for him. They disable us before killing us, LaCroix. And he just managed to get away." "Tell me what happened, exactly." Janette did so, explaining what little Nick had told her. Finally, she told LaCroix, "He is having trouble keeping any blood down. And perhaps worse, he has no desire for it. It is like what you experienced with the poisoned blood." Janette hesitated, wondering what more she should say, and then told him, "And please, take care what you say about Natalie...I don't know how he is taking what happened." "What do you mean?" LaCroix asked, his attention shifting fully away from Nick. "He hasn't talked much about her. He has slept most of the last two days and spoken very little." Janette stepped closer as LaCroix knelt down next to Nick. "You can help him, can't you?" "Nicholas will recover only if it is not too late." "If it's...but--" "I cannot sense him, Janette. Nothing! Not now, and not when you arrived." Janette swallowed. She had noticed Nick appearing to get worse, but she hadn't expected Nick's condition was that serious. Would Nick want to keep living? It was one thing to be a vampire as vampires were being exposed to the world, and another to be accused of killing a good friend, shoved out of one's life, and having one's name posted on every channel. And with how he physically felt.... She had to admit that he seemed like he was giving up, but she had assumed it was the poison. Could this be too much for him? She could see LaCroix' intense worry as he tended to Nick, hoping Nick's possible disinterest was temporary. LaCroix went as far as slicing both their palms and placing the wounds together in a hope to help, but even he was unsure whether this would be much aid to his son. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The following night, hearing a light knock at the door Janette cautiously opened it to find Aristotle. "I must speak to LaCroix." "This is not a good time. Nicolas--" "Yes, yes, LaCroix mentioned you were retrieving him. How is he?" "Unwell." Aristotle stepped inside, Janette backing out of his way. He gave the room a glance and then quickly headed toward what he knew was LaCroix' bedroom. Janette followed, watching LaCroix turn toward Aristotle as he approached. Nick, who was entwined with LaCroix, shifted slightly at the other's movement. "Nicholas is--" Aristotle halted his response as Nick stirred further, waking. Nick woke, feeling restrained by LaCroix. However, he didn't attempt to forcibly break free, and instead leaned back to get a better look at who had spoken, at which LaCroix released him and let him lie completely on his back. Aristotle took in Nick's pale and ragged features, commenting, "You don't look well, Nicholas." "I don't feel it, either," Nick forced out in what manifested as a whisper. First walking back to the door and then turning toward LaCroix, Aristotle said, "LaCroix, I need a word with you." LaCroix got out of the bed and stood, but hesitated following Aristotle out of the room. He could see how weak his son was, despite that he was currently awake. "I'll be fine," Nick said, his voice stronger, but far from sounding strong or certain. Without another word, LaCroix turned his attention to Janette, giving her a firm glance before leaving, the action silently telling Janette that he wanted her to remain with Nick. Once in the main room of the apartment with Aristotle, LaCroix questioned, "What is it?" "First, I would like to know about Nicholas' condition. There's his hunger, but there's more, isn't there?" "He was somehow shot with the mortals' drug." Then, firmly, he stated, "Nicholas will recover." "How can you be certain? The tainted blood was enough to kill some of us. You, yourself, were sick for several days. If he was shot, Nicholas has likely received a much higher and purer dose of this drug, and while he is not young he is still younger than some of those killed by the tainted blood." "Why are you here?" LaCroix demanded. "The information you wanted." Aristotle pulled out a computer disk and held it out to LaCroix. "It's the list I've compiled on those that are either confirmed dead or believed to be dead. I assume you should be able to find what you're looking for in there." Aristotle hesitated before heading toward the door, considering asking LaCroix to tell Nick something for him, but changed his mind. LaCroix would likely say nothing. "LaCroix?" came Janette's voice, causing the other two vampires to turn toward her. She said nothing more, not wanting to worry Aristotle. Seeing Aristotle prepared to offer whatever help he thought he could provide, LaCroix abruptly told him, "We will talk later." Aristotle nodded, and then went to the door and left the apartment. LaCroix then wordlessly headed back to his son, only to find the bedroom empty. His eyes darted to the bathroom, where he could just see a hint of the younger vampire. He approached, but stopped short of touching Nick, who was leaning against the counter, faintly shaking. "Nicholas?" Janette pulled LaCroix back by the shoulder, merely managing to budge him a few inches. Then she whispered, "I believe his hunger has returned." LaCroix pulled out of Janette's grasp, looking at her for a moment until she turned and left. Returning his focus back on Nick and taking a step nearer, he asked, "Is what Janette said true?" "I'm not sure. I want.... But...." Nick turned, his eyes a deep and burning gold. "I am so very hungry...." Then, closing his eyes, after several seconds Nick finally answered, "And yet, even just the thought of having any blood makes me feel ill." LaCroix turned, planning on going to the kitchen and getting Nick a glass of blood, only for a hand to stop him. He again faced his son and could see the hunger had only amplified. LaCroix looked down when his hand was taken, pulled upward and bitten into. He said nothing at the action, merely closing his eyes, allowing his son to take whatever he wished. Within moments, LaCroix found his wrist released. Despite that he had instantly opened his eyes, Nick had already managed to slide past him. LaCroix stiffened. He disliked being unaware of the younger man's mood. Silently, LaCroix left the room, but didn't follow after his son. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Janette's eyes snapped open, thinking Nick had perhaps entered the room--but he hadn't. After Aristotle had left the previous night, Nick had remained in LaCroix' room, only venturing out close to dawn. And when dawn had arrived and she and LaCroix headed to sleep, Nick had adamantly stayed awake, not even returning to one of their rooms. She had even gone to LaCroix' room to sleep, leaving her room empty in case Nick wanted to be alone, but she never heard Nick head down the hall to her room. Nor had LaCroix, who could now sense Nick, which was something she had not yet been able to do. Carefully, as it was near sunset, Janette got out of the bed and walked slowly across the room to the door and left. She headed to the living room, where the glow of a computer screen put Nick's very awake features under a harsh light, making them weary. When Nick didn't comment, she approached and sat next to him. And then, seeing that the computer was LaCroix' and that he was looking at the file Aristotle had brought over, she asked somewhat curtly, "What are you doing?" Nick snapped his attention to Janette. "Haven't you wondered?" "Wondered what?" "Why they aren't taking credit for all they have done, all they have killed?" "Well, they couldn't until the announcement was made, could they?" "But they could have gotten started on catching up, yes?" "Nicolas...." "Look." Nick turned the computer slightly, so that it was facing more toward Janette. He then opened another window, containing a table with two lists. He went to the bottom of the lists--one of which ended far sooner than the other. "There are 314 names in the first list and 447 in the second." "Yes, yes and they have officially killed 314 of us. So what? I heard LaCroix mention--" "Janette, 447 is how many vampires they've killed since the announcement." Janette's lips parted. This was new to her as LaCroix had said little on actual deaths because even he didn't know. That was partly why he had been goading Aristotle, wasn't it? "They want to kill all of us, Janette. That is their goal. Their only goal. They don't care how they kill us or what else they have to destroy to get to us." Janette nodded slightly and whispered, "Like Natalie." "Like Natalie," Nick repeated. Then, he softly added, "I thought she would be safe. I had planned on leaving, and I thought she would finally be safe." "Mortals are never safe." "And apparently neither are we." "No. No, we're not." Janette turned her attention back to the screen, and then to Nick's hand as he picked up a glass of blood. A near-empty bottle sat close by. As she and LaCroix had finished off a bottle earlier that day, she knew Nick had drunk most of that bottle. It meant their small supply had just gone down a full bottle, but it also meant, hopefully, that Nick was improving. Cautiously, she asked, "You are feeling better?" "Somewhat. It's fading quicker than the first time." "First time?" Nick nodded, and then explained the incident involving the drugged cookies and, that while he had not felt as overall sick as he did now that he had felt at least somewhat ill for over a week after that. They then sat silently in the room, Nick slowly scrolling though one of the files. Both started when LaCroix flicked the light on a few minutes later, sunset having now arrived. Approaching, LaCroix eyed his son sitting nervously at his computer. He also saw the glass and bottle, neither containing much blood. And although he sensed his son was stronger and although no permission had been asked before using his computer, he tried to remain calm, simply asking, "What are you doing?" Nick didn't answer, his eyes darting back to the screen. "Nicolas has been...ah..." Janette started, but trailed off. She wasn't sure exactly what Nick had been doing. After a second, she told him, "I believe he is using the information from Aristotle's disk." "Nicholas?" This time, at the almost curt prodding, Nick answered, "Janette's right. I'm using information from the disk and from what has been publicly released." "For what?" When Nick merely smiled, his expression oddly satisfied, Janette nervously told LaCroix, "Comparing the numbers of those that have died and the deaths that have been revealed since our existence was...announced to the mortals." "And more," Nick added, his eyes sticking on the computer screen. "They have no intention of revealing how many of us exist, how many of us they have killed." LaCroix stiffened ever so slightly at the hint of anger in his son's voice. Slowly, he approached, watching as Nick quickly saved and closed out all the files he had opened. "Aristotle will want to know what you've been up to. He is visiting tonight, for the return of the disk." Nick switched the computer off. "And?" he curtly asked, glancing solidly up at LaCroix as he put the screen down, including a burst of unneeded force. "I don't think he would care what I've been doing." Standing, Nick heading quickly for his room. Roughly taking his son's arm as the younger tried to flee, LaCroix fought back his anger. Despite seeing and feeling Nick relax; he also saw that Nick kept his adamant expression. Nothing he said or did to the younger would provide any effect, he suspected. And so, reluctantly, he released Nick and watched his son retreat into the hall. Downward Spiral - (09/27) Arriving at LaCroix', Aristotle again quickly found himself told that Nick was resting and should not be disturbed. He wished to see the other's condition for himself, but he was also aware that when LaCroix was set in something, he would not be easily persuaded otherwise. And then, when he had asked LaCroix if he had found what he was looking for in the information, he caught a glance pass from Janette toward LaCroix and an ever so slight glance toward the hall. When LaCroix didn't offer up an answer, Aristotle asked, his frustration surfacing, "What does this have to do with Nicholas?" The other merely stiffened, which was plenty enough of an answer for him. "He saw what was on the disk?" LaCroix kept silent, at which Janette answered, "Yes. He--" "It is nothing of concern to you," LaCroix harshly stated, glaring at Aristotle. "I am concerned for Nicholas. The information contained various vampires' information, all on those who have been killed, and I suspect he knew a few of them. If it upset him--" "He was comparing information, seeing how much the mortals were hiding," Janette stated, wondering why LaCroix was now hesitant to tell Aristotle when mere hours ago he had practically insisted that they do just that. "He was focused on it, intently." "Interested?" Aristotle asked, his voice slightly animated. "Yes, he seemed interested," Janette told him. LaCroix sent a glare at her, which she returned without hesitation. LaCroix was being overly stubborn and protective of Nick. "Out!" LaCroix hissed, stepping toward Aristotle. When the slightly younger vampire didn't budge, LaCroix pressed his demand harder, "Out, now! Leave us." Aristotle stayed in place, stating with a hint of anger, "For not wanting to disturb Nicholas you are making quite a racket, Lucius!" LaCroix simmered at the words, but was stopped from forcibly removing Aristotle by a hand on his arm--his son's hand. His anger slid slightly away upon feeling the weakness in the younger man's grip and seeing the weariness in his expression. Releasing LaCroix' arm, Nick stood on his own but slightly unsteady. His face remained expressionless, but he focused solely on Aristotle, even as all eyes were directed at him. "How are you, Nicholas?" Aristotle asked as he took a step forward. "Fine." Pleased that the other's voice sounded stronger than he had expected via LaCroix, Aristotle said, "Janette mentioned you were interested in the disk I loaned LaCroix." "It was something to do," Nick immediately answered. "And yes, it was interesting and...shocking. I wasn't aware that many of us had died and that the mortals were keeping silent on more than half of the killings." "They seem to be releasing a smaller percentage of deaths as they go." "And they've killed a number of older vampires, far more than I expected." "Yes," Aristotle answered, nodding. "They seem to only announce a death when they have information on that individual. Your escaping put them in a panic. They don't yet know as much about you as they'd like, and with you alive.... Dead, they could have claimed you were too dangerous and probably release specifics of why later, after they had done more research. But alive? You have incited the general population's curiosity, which does not look good for them. They've been frantically trying to find info on you before others do." "Have they?" Nick asked, his voice somewhat harsh. "They're finding something. Felix contacted me about someone trying to access records on that foundation of yours." LaCroix scoffed, interrupting the conversation, causing Aristotle to glare his way, clearly angry. "It's not Nicholas' fault--don't go blaming him. If these mortals keep up, we'll all either be exposed or killed, including you." Then, hesitantly, Aristotle turned back to Nick, "They don't even mind killing their own kind, even those that knew nothing of vampires. Complete innocents." Nick nodded, not answering aloud, the mention sobering to his already slipping mood. "You've been tracking them. These mortals," LaCroix stated, walking slowly toward Aristotle. "Someone should. The Enforcers don't seem to be doing it, not that I blame them. After all, they've lost a much greater percentage to the mortals than we have, overall." "Have they discovered either myself or Janette?" "I don't know, LaCroix, have they?" Aristotle shook his head. "Unless they decide to make an announcement prior to trying to kill you, I'd suspect you'd be the first to know about that." "Answer the question. Have they linked us to Nicholas?" "As of this moment? Not that I am aware. Will they? Yes, of course they will. You've followed Nicholas his entire life, LaCroix. And they'll probably link Janette in once they get you. And, as I doubt you looked at that information closely, I'll tell you right now that they don't have a two thousand year-old dead vampire on their list yet. You'll be a good four hundred years older than any of the others they've killed, and quite a prize." "They would think you quite a prize, too. Between your age and all that information you have...." "They haven't found me yet. I've taken great care of that. And they won't find me anytime soon." "If and when they--" LaCroix cut off as Nick steadied himself by gripping his arm. Glancing to the younger, LaCroix caught a hint of hatred before Nick turned and walked back toward the hall. He turned to Janette, who shot a glare at him before starting after her brother. LaCroix flew into her path, stopping her. "I'll check on him, LaCroix," Aristotle stated. He made it as far as the hallway entrance before LaCroix shoved him to the side, the action intending to slam him into the wall. Aristotle yanked out of the other's grip with difficulty, managing to duck out of the other's immediate reach. "Out!" "I'm going to talk to him, LaCroix. Alone." LaCroix went for Aristotle again, planning to remove the other vampire from his home. Yet, this time Aristotle was ready and just managed to escape him. His anger intensified, but he knew it would do no good. He was weak from helping his son, and it was showing. "You controlling him is not what he needs right now. He has had more than enough of the last several months controlled by the mortals hunting us. Let him do what he wants for a change. Give him the option to do as he wants before he withdraws. You may or may not have directly hurt him with your words, but I seriously doubt you have yet said anything to comfort him." At that, LaCroix simmered. However, he said nothing. "I'll talk to him eventually; it might as well be now." Conflicted, LaCroix weighed the other's words. Janette had so far had little luck talking to Nick, likely too afraid to push him away with what she did say, her manner too gentle to get any response. And he, himself? He had said little to his son for the same, overall reason; although he would likely go too far given their viewpoints differed. Sneering, LaCroix closed his eyes and turned away from Aristotle. As Aristotle passed LaCroix and left the room, Janette cautiously approached LaCroix. She gently touched his arm, at which he looked to her, eyes golden. Letting her lips turn up into a gentle, reassuring smile, Janette took her hand and rested the back of it against LaCroix' cheek. "Aristotle always got along well with Nicolas." She paused a moment, then slowly, with more emphasis, she told him, "Nick will be fine." LaCroix pulled away, going to the kitchen to distance himself from the others and get a hopefully calming glass of blood. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Nicholas?" Aristotle called, slowly approaching where Nick lay on the bed, turned away from him. When the other didn't respond, Aristotle asked, "I'll leave, if you want me to." Nick rolled backward, onto his back. "It's fine. It was just...." "LaCroix." Nick slowly nodded and then turned away, returning to lying on his side. "You're torn between wanting to kill every mortal that had even a remote involvement in Natalie's death...and trying to pretend that nothing has happened." Aristotle took several steps closer, but Nick didn't comment. "The latter, you cannot and should not do for your own sake. The first is tempting, but introduces a new conflict...and would just prove to the mortals that they were justified in going after you." Nick again remained silent. "This is not your fault, Nicholas. None of it is. She knew the risks of befriending you." "She didn't know she was directly in danger." "I suspect that she did. From what I've gleaned from LaCroix, she was a very intelligent mortal and I'm sure she knew they might target her as well." Nick sharply turned back to Aristotle. "LaCroix--" "He has kept far more of an eye on her than you know. And although I doubt he'll ever admit it, I believe he thought highly of her. After all, it's not often that he leaves your mortal friends alone, is it?" Nick returned his gaze to the wall. "I still should have left sooner. It might have kept her alive." "Perhaps. But think how many mortals they have killed. Dozens. They'll kill anyone that knows too much and is in their way. Do you really think they would have left her alone after you left? If they knew you were a vampire, they could have still set you up for her death, Nick. They could have killed her, explained your departure and absence as a way to divert suspicion in her death, then fabricated evidence to blame you." Aristotle sat on the edge of the bed. "You could not have changed this and shouldn't dwell on the possibility. But neither should you forget, no matter what anyone tells you." "It is time for you to leave, Aristotle," LaCroix spoke, the words stern and controlled. "Now." At first, both Aristotle and Nick stiffened. Then, Aristotle stood and faced LaCroix, his eyes locked with the other vampire's for only a few seconds before he left the room. LaCroix remained in place until he heard Aristotle leave the apartment, Janette no doubt closing the door as it shut silently. Next, he nearly approached his son, but the other's tenseness told him whatever he said would be useless. And between Aristotle's last comment and the weakness he still felt in his son, now was certainly not the time to try to disperse the younger vampire's mood. Downward Spiral - (10/27) Cohen placed her hand on Schanke's shoulder and whispered, "I want to talk to you in my office, now." "But Captain, I'm--" "Now, Detective," she emphasised, then headed to her office. Schanke hesitated, not liking her tone. But he knew she'd be giving him a talk before too long; might as well be now. Schanke put down the file he was looking at, stowing it away in a drawer, and went to Cohen's office. Seeing Schanke in the doorway, she told him, "Close the door and sit down." Doing so, Schanke quietly commented, "You're going to suspend me, aren't you?" "I should." "Even though Nick didn't kill Natalie and it's clear he didn't?" "Unfortunately, whether I agree with you or not, this is not my case. Nor is it yours." Cohen nearly smiled sympathetically, but the seriousness of their conversation won out. "You're in here because Agent Burns has complained to her superiors about one of my detectives harassing her." "I have not been--" "You have been interfering in their investigation. You have stolen autopsy records and shown them to a third party for interpretation." "Yeah, and--" "Let me finish, Detective." Cohen paused several seconds before continuing, "You have goaded Agent Burns, attempting to get her to release information regarding their cases and the situation in general. You have been continually uncooperative with the IVEA's agents in every way and have been far too vocal in your opinion of them. They want me to put you on leave. Unpaid leave. And that isn't their first choice." "What? Captain, you can't." "I didn't say that I would, only that that is the second best recommendation on their list and not what they would prefer." "And their first is?" Schanke prodded, although his thoughts were already headed toward it. "Permanent unpaid leave." Schanke shifted. They had wanted to fire him. "So, you think I'm right? I mean, if you're not going to put me on forced leave or...whatever." "I think that if you want to discredit the IVEA or otherwise prove they are being untruthful that you do it on your own time and not this department's, and that you do so quietly." "Captain, they killed Natalie, on purpose, so that they could blame Nick. Her autopsy and an unidentified set of footprints at Knight's place proves it. A vampire didn't kill her, Captain. I'm not just going to stand back and silently watch this." "Then be aware that you will be put on leave if this continues. I won't give you another warning, and I don't want to hear about this again." Schanke stood. "I know I've already mentioned this, but I really would like you to take a few weeks off." "And I'd much rather keep working. I'm not taking any time off unless I have to." Cohen nodded, not having expected a different answer. "I am going to have to assign you a new partner, you know that." He had dreaded this, hoping it would take time to shift someone in place to work with him. With a sigh, he asked, "When?" "Next week." Schanke's eyes started to glaze over. "That's quick. Who is it?" "I don't know yet." Seeing Schanke ready to protest, Cohen explained, "The Commissioner is behind this one. My hands are tied regarding any choices. I just found out about this an hour ago." Watching Schanke start to fidget, she told him, "You're dismissed." Just as Schanke reached the door, she added, "I would prefer if you didn't make too much trouble, if only while the IVEA Agents are here, and if only for your safety. If it helps, know that they are almost done scrutinising files and should be gone within the week." Schanke nodded and left the office, pulling the door shut behind him and letting out a long breath of relief. That went far better than he had expected. "Still a Detective?" Schanke jumped at the voice, turning to face one of the other Detectives. "Yeah, yeah, I'm still here." "Good." Schanke started off, but he heard his name called and turned back. Softly, the other detective prodded, "Rumour has it you knew what Nick was before...well, before this latest mess. And that Natalie had known for some time." Schanke didn't answer. "Anyway, mainly wanted to see if you escaped Cohen's wrath. And return my notes on what you wrote out for Natalie's funeral." Schanke's face contorted slightly at the last. He hadn't given anyone.... But a folded piece of paper was stuffed into his hand and the detective walked away before he could comment. He opened the piece of paper, to reveal a few short words written in an unfamiliar hand: "We think Dr. Lambert was dropping this off for Nick." Another folded piece of paper rested inside, Nick's name on the outside in Natalie's handwriting. Carefully, he opened the paper up and read: "Someone's tailing us both. Leave as soon as you read this." Schanke stiffened at the warning Nick never received and immediately wondered who the 'we' was...not to mention how they got the note in the first place. He recognised the Detective that had given him the note, but knew little about him. Was this a test to see what he would do? He refolded the two pieces of paper and put them in his pocket. Then, reluctantly, he returned to his desk and tried to work, but two things weighed his thoughts down: The note, and Natalie's funeral later that day. And he could do nothing. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "I was not expecting your visit," LaCroix stated when he opened the door to find that it was Aristotle who had interrupted the night's quiet. In fact, almost the entire previous week--specifically since Aristotle's last visit--had been pleasantly undisturbed until now. "Really?" Aristotle asked as he entered the apartment, mockingly surprised. LaCroix ignored the other's tone, asking, "And you are here because...?" "Nick has expressed an interest in helping us, and--" "He will do no such thing," LaCroix spoke, cutting the other off. "I have already accepted his offer, LaCroix." Watching LaCroix' emotions silently fume, Aristotle sombrely asked, "Nicholas didn't tell you, did he?" LaCroix turned away for a second. Nothing had been mentioned to him, and his connection with his son was weak enough that he had had no indication of this. "He will not be aiding you." "He's plenty old enough to decide what he will or will not do! You told me he stayed in Toronto despite your, Janette, and even his mortal friends' urging that it would be safer for him to leave. You've mentioned that he has pushed what we are to the limit, and the fact that he's still alive should tell you he has no intention of throwing his life away. Neither do I, and neither do any among the handful of vampires poking into the IVEA. Frankly, we could use his help. The others aiding me are too young to focus, their fear overcoming them more often than not." LaCroix nearly answered, but sensed both his children enter the room. He turned, his gaze settling on Nick until he noticed a hint of fear on Janette's features. Taking a step toward her, LaCroix hissed, "You knew about this." "Yes," Janette answered, her words as stinging as LaCroix' accusal. "Aristotle is leaving the city tonight," Nick said, turning LaCroix' attention back on him. He paused several seconds before adding, "I'm going with him." "It's probably safer for both you and Janette if Nick travels separately, anyway," Aristotle mentioned, expecting to silence LaCroix long enough for himself and Nick to leave. And at first, LaCroix didn't comment. Just as Nick reached the door, LaCroix asked Aristotle, "And you think he's safer with you?" "Yes and no." Seeing LaCroix' anger, he elaborated, "None of us are safe. But is he any safer here, hunting the mortals for blood, than he is with me, hunting for information on those targeting us? I think not." Aristotle opened the door, Nick walked through, and then he too left, pulling the door shut. LaCroix stepped toward the door but Janette stopped him, flying up to him and taking his arm. He jerked out of her grip only for her to take his arm again. Now he was overflowing with anger. First his son leaves, and now this from Janette? "Let him go. It will give him something to occupy his time with. You know how bored he would get staying here...." She moved closer, then whispered into LaCroix' ear, "He won't stay away long; you know that." LaCroix closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to follow his son. Janette did have a point...but it had barely been a week since Nick had returned to them. They hadn't even spoken other than, he would admit, forced niceties. Perhaps it would be for the best? For now, anyway. Wanting to be alone, he gave Janette a sharp glance so that she knew not to disturb him, turned, and then silently headed to his bedroom. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Waking later that night, LaCroix immediately felt that something was wrong. Realising it was merely the absence of Janette, he relaxed. Perhaps she had gone hunting? They were, after all, nearly out of bottled blood. Going to the kitchen, he found the one partial bottle that had still been in the refrigerator empty on the counter, a folded note stuck under it. He flew over to it, pulling it out from under the bottle with such a quick action that the bottle never budged. He opened the note, his hatred overwhelming him at the words: "I have left, LaCroix. We are probably safer on our own, especially since the mortals have linked us to Nicolas. Oui, LaCroix, they have linked us to him. Just our faces and our present names, but they will link more. Be careful around the mortals." By the end of the note, LaCroix' hatred had dimmed slightly, but plenty enough remained for him to hurl the empty bottle across the room before his emotions settled. No matter what the mortals knew, they were indeed a little safer travelling separately than if they were together. And then his anger subsided further, his thoughts focusing on the last--that the mortals knew that both himself and Janette were vampires. Walking to the main living area he strode to the television and, seeing that the remote had been moved, picked it up and flipped the device on. After hitting the channel up button several times, he found a news station. Immediately, it was clear that the announcement was very new. Mere hours, if that. "After more than a week of the public demanding why no known and living vampires have been revealed to the public, the IVEA has released the identity of two vampires they say are linked to Knight." LaCroix stiffened as the news flashed up photographs of both himself and Janette, their current names below the images. "Despite the revelation of two more vampires, the IVEA have been flooded with requests for more information on both them and Knight, as well as the release of yet more identities. Regarding Knight, the IVEA has promised to release his age and mortal name. When asked about Lucien LaCroix and Janette DuCharme, IVEA agents merely said that they believe both are older than Knight, but revealed nothing more." "Of note, the IVEA has not released information on more vampire deaths. And of great controversy is a growing number of protesters demanding laws for the protection of vampire rights." At that, LaCroix chuckled and shut the television off. "Mortals," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. So contradictory. After about a minute, however, LaCroix' amusement faded. However much he disliked the mortals, having them campaigning for vampire rights...absurd, yes, but he knew his son would not be the only one to think that might be useful. Even he didn't have to think much to realise the value of such an organisation if the mortals continued to push this. He smiled for a moment, the mortals' mixed news almost making up for the sudden departures of both of his children. Almost. Downward Spiral - (11/27) Aristotle took Nick to the new location he had set up a mere three days earlier--a large house in a mid-sized city about 150 miles from their previous location. As it was close to dawn, Aristotle quickly showed Nick the layout of the house and then took him to an empty bedroom. "I'll introduce you to the others in the morning," Aristotle said as he watched Nick enter and glance about the room. Fully aware the other's strength was below par, he started, "If you're hungry, I can--" "No, I'll be fine." "Nicholas, Janette tells me you have not been--" "Are any of us feeding like we should?" Nick asked, his tone faintly terse. "Hmm, yes, you do have a point on that." Then, without further conversation, Aristotle left the room, pulling the door shut. He turned and headed down the hall to his own room, only for one of the young ones to poke their head out into the hall. The young-looking man--appearing in his early twenties--had roughly the same build as Nick, but his short, spiky purple-pink hair couldn't be a further contrast. "Is--" "Yes, Nicholas is here. And dawn has arrived and we should all sleep. Do not pester him. We'll make introductions later." Aristotle glanced to the side, where the other two, both women, also came into the hall, curious. "That goes for all of you." As Aristotle headed past them and into his room, one of the women--a blonde with shoulder length hair--smiled somewhat deviously. "I wouldn't test Aristotle's patience right now," the man said. "Nor Knight's." "Why not?" she asked. The other woman, looking to be in her late twenties, petite with longer, near-black hair hissed at the other woman, "You know what Knight has had to deal with the last couple of weeks. I would not bother him with any of your games." She went back into her room. The man shrugged his shoulders and also left the hall. Finally, disappointed, the younger woman retreated into her room as well. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Even as night fell that night, Nick stayed in his room. He had heard the others in the hall after his arrival, and wasn't sure what to think of these younger vampires. Two seemed to have good sense, but the third? She didn't seem to care much about any of this. Aristotle had warned him about her, but he still wasn't looking forward to meeting her--or the others. In a way, he wondered if he should have just left to be on his own. However, if he had, he suspected that LaCroix would have never let him do so. Reluctantly, Nick left the room and headed to the kitchen, which was thankfully empty save for a glass of blood on the counter. "That's yours, Nicholas. It's not human, unfortunately," Aristotle said as he reached the doorway. "They've been waiting. Curious to meet you." "Curiosity can be dangerous." Aristotle narrowed his eyes. The comment didn't feel right, especially not given Nick was talking to another vampire. "That sounds like something LaCroix might say." Nick didn't reply, instead going to the glass of blood and, picking it up, took a drink from it without turning around. He winces slightly, the unpleasant taste of the cow's blood hard to tolerate after becoming accustomed to human blood. As he still felt a hint of nausea accompany the blood, he downed the rest of the glass quickly. "They can wait longer, if you'd rather do this later in the night." "No. Now is fine." Nick turned around. "Although first I would like to know what they know about me." "As much as anyone else does. I didn't tell them much about you, specifically. They are aware of your fondness for the mortals. And they also know that you are a child of LaCroix'. Both of those facts create various assumptions. Some true, some not, some...mixed. All too strong to ignore." Seeing Nick tense, Aristotle elaborated, "Even with your morals...Nick, your age and your relation to LaCroix more than makes up for your weakness in their eyes. You've probably spent more time with him than any other vampire has. And you must admit that LaCroix is ruthless--even for a vampire--and certainly not someone to cross. The sheer fact that LaCroix hasn't killed you adds assumptions and curiosities." Nick tried not to think of what theories the others might have come up with about him. Just as Aristotle took a step back, he stated, "And then there is what's been on the news." "Yes. And the mortals haven't been very kind in that regard." Nick nodded, more to himself than Aristotle. When the other headed out of the room, Nick followed. He paused upon seeing the three vampires sitting, fidgeting as they waited. Pleased at the good behaviour of the three, Aristotle started, "As you are all aware, Nick is going to be working with us. I don't need to say much to introduce him, do I?" The three silently shook their heads, and Nick had the impression they had been given a talk earlier that night, and he was glad. "Good," Aristotle said as he gestured toward an empty chair for Nick to sit in, while he sat in another. Nick slowly sat down, letting himself sink down into the cushions, relaxing much like LaCroix would, hoping it would keep the three at a distance, if only for now. Aristotle noticed Nick's purposeful action, but outwardly ignored it. He then nodded toward the young man, saying, "That is Nathaniel--" "Nate," the young man corrected. "Yes. Nathaniel, or preferably 'Nate' is the resident...hacker, I suppose you would call him, and his disregard for rules has come in rather useful. He is fifty-three years old, brought over at twenty- six." Aristotle then turned toward the older of the two women. "Emily does much of the research; was working as a night curator at a museum in New York until a few months ago. She's ninety, brought over at twenty-nine." The third vampire--the young looking blonde woman--shifted uncomfortably. "And finally there is Holly, a mere nineteen and brought over a few months ago. Nate ran into her a few weeks ago. She's rather valuable in that all her information is still valid--no missing information in her records for the mortals to latch on to--and she's the closest of us to the modern mortal world." "In other words, I don't draw too much attention...amazingly." Holly smiled coyly, clearly showing how conspicuous she could be. Aristotle ignored the elaboration, remaining serious. "The IVEA has quite a challenge, and they seem to be treading very carefully." "They failed to kill Nicholas, resulting in a live vampire known to the world," Emily voiced. "Exactly. And now the public's curiosity is demanding answers. They're questioning what is right." "Favourable for us," Nick quietly said. "To do what? Advertise?" Holly hissed. "To let the mortals realise they're wrong," Nate answered. "They'll get on the right road." Emily shook her head at that. "Yes, but how long will that take? We could give the mortals our side, but--" "How? Can't just walk up to them," Nate stated. Angry at being cut off, Emily focused on Nate. "No, we can't just walk up to them. Like I was saying, even if we can get out our side, it likely won't do any good with the IVEA twisting everything." Aristotle sighed, turning toward Nick. "As you can see, there are quite a few options, none of which we can seem to agree on. We've been stuck, arguing like this. If we show ourselves, we risk both the IVEA coming after us more intently, and a more precise opinion of the mortals...which could easily lean either for or against us." "But we can't just wait, either," Emily said. "No, no we can't just wait. But that's what we will have to do for now." Lost in thought, Nick knew that they were both right. They couldn't just wait, but they did have to take care how they reacted and how the mortals could react. They could do it, if they planned it well. Aristotle stood, his attention landing on Nick. "Come, Nicholas, we'll show you what we're currently working on." "Which is?" Nick asked, standing. "Currently, we've been tracking a few of the IVEA's communications and are sending out warnings." Aristotle's expression became a bit mischievous. "Basically thwarting their attempts to kill us." Then, more seriously, he added, "Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to be slowing down the rate that they are killing us. Luckily, they haven't seemed to notice what we're doing, even though a few of them have died. I'm actually surprised that hasn't made it to the news. Their agents turning up dead, killed by vampires...you'd think they'd take advantage of it." "You've killed some of them?" Nick asked, a bit surprised, as Aristotle hadn't mentioned anything remotely close. "Not us, but with warning others, it's inevitable. Seven of their agents have been killed in the last two weeks that we are aware of. Some of those that we have warned have taken the opportunity as a chance to kill their would-be killers. Some have succeeded, others have escaped, just barely, and others have died trying. However, most flee at the warning, not wanting to take their chances. And, as I said, this is just the most current, active project at the moment. We're doing other things, too." Aristotle left, ushering the three younger vampires out of the room first. Nick cautiously followed. In some ways, he would rather rest; but he also looked forward to having something to keep busy with. It's why he had asked Aristotle if he could help. Sitting around doing nothing but waiting was not what he wanted to spend the next several weeks, months, or longer doing. Again, however, he wondered if, perhaps, he shouldn't have come. Once Nick reached him, Aristotle whispered, "As a note, the mortals have released quite a report on you during the day, as well as information on both LaCroix and Janette. Including that LaCroix is believed to be the one that brought both you and Janette across. They have Janette's age, but not LaCroix'...but they do have him listed as being at least seventeen hundred years old, so they're getting close. They're not portraying any of you in a good light at all." Then, gesturing ahead of them, he added, "They haven't seen the new news yet. In addition, they've released more deaths, mostly those that had been three to five hundred years old. And again, they're not portraying them well. It seems the older the vampire, the worse they twist things." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Now maybe you'll second guess your 'partner', Knight or Brabant...or any of the other names he's gone by the last several hundred years," Marissa Burns said, slapping a large file down in front of Schanke. "What?" Schanke said, his brain not processing why this was now important. "You did see that we released more information on him, yes?" "Yeah," he quickly answered, lying. He hadn't seen or heard anything for days...but he also hadn't checked the news since the previous morning. What had they announced? Other than, apparently, Nick's name and age. He focused on the agent, keeping his expression solid. "And?" "I suggest you take a good look at that file, Detective. It's yours to keep. And it just might enlighten you." Marissa left. Schanke purposely put the file away, locking it in his top centre drawer, not looking at it. For one, now wasn't the time for it. For another, he'd much prefer glancing at the contents without others watching him. Home. He would have to wait until he went home. And for the next six hours, that's all that occupied the thoughts of Detective Schanke. Even with it being his last night sans a partner and both Burns and her partner packing up their things, his mind remained on the file. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "You should sleep." Schanke didn't glance up from the pages of info despite his wife's worried tone. His forehead scrunched in confusion, he muttered, "Later." "You've been looking at that file since you came home. You haven't even eaten." Closing his eyes, Schanke nodded. He was hungry.... But the file Marissa Burns gave him, what it said about Nick.... "I won't look at it anymore today, okay?" He managed a partial smile as he neatened the stack of papers and put them back in the file folder. He hesitated a second before closing the folder, but really, it didn't matter. Much of the information still floated in his head. "Sleep?" "Soon, I promise," he said, meeting Myra's eyes more fully. "Hmm." When her husband didn't say anything more, Myra reached out for the file, but it was moved away. "I was just going to put it somewhere Jenny wouldn't find it." Realising what he did, Schanke apologised and handed the folder out. Once Myra had taken the file and left the room, he again closed his eyes. What was he supposed to believe? The file was a patchy history of Nick's life, but given the history spanned nearly eight hundred years 'patchy' was actually rather complete. Not every event of Nick's life was detailed, but far too many years were. And he hated to admit it, but the bad outweighed the good. Worse, he suspected much of this couldn't be contrived. There were wanted posters with Nick's name on it, even sketches of him. And he could easily count the clearly good actions Nick had done on one hand: Doctor during the American Civil War, cop in 1950s Chicago, medic during Vietnam, and his most recent stint as a detective. And only Nick's latest profession seemed relatively unmarred. Nick's wartime experiences were dotted with documented curiosities and concerns, some of which could be explained by the darker nature of what he was. And Nick's past history of being a cop? He wasn't sure what to think of that. Offhand, he would say that Nick learned a lesson at first. But later, it was clear he wasn't entirely a 'by the book' cop, something he knew from experience. And Nick had clearly used what he was to his advantage, like he probably did on their cases. And the rest? The rest focused on the deaths that seemed to occur wherever Nick popped up. Was it real? He had no idea. But truthful or not, he saw one very clear pattern: As time got closer to the present, Nick seemed to warrant less and less concern. And that wasn't something he could ignore. Was it simply because Nick had changed? Or were the IVEA tainting Nick's history or simply not bothering to look hard enough to find any good things? It amplified his curiosity to the point he couldn't ignore the file. If they thought this would shock him into dropping support for Nick, however, they were wrong. Suddenly, he yawned, his stomach rumbling in protest. When he looked at the clock, his eyes widened. He knew he had been looking at the file for some time, but didn't realise that many hours had passed by. First, he needed food and sleep. Yeah, that's what was needed.... And Schanke stood and headed toward the kitchen. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Ambling a bit groggily into the precinct the next night, Schanke froze, stiffening upon seeing Cohen waiting at his desk, his sense of dread rising quickly. "Captain?" "My office." Schanke followed her, knowing this was undoubtedly to introduce his new partner. Who would it be? A detective from another precinct? Perhaps someone transferred in? A local cop just making detective? He hoped not on the last as he slowed, approaching the office door. Inside, he saw a thin man's back, and on first impression he was reminded slightly of Nick by the man's light hair and dark jacket. Cohen quickly introduced, "Schanke, this is Eric Nilson." Nilson shifted, first turning toward Schanke and then standing, holding out his hand, "Nice to meet you. Cohen has told me much about you." Schanke shook the other man's hand, but lacked enthusiasm. "Don Schanke," he said, looking the other over. Nilson was a stock stereotypical Scandinavian, and with the tie and striped dress shirt under his jacket he looked nothing like Nick...especially with the deep tan and baritone voice. "You know, Toronto isn't the best place to move if you want to keep a tan." "Probably not." An officer appeared at the door. "Captain? Agent Burns is here. She wonders if she could have a word with you?" Cohen openly sighed and nodded. "Have her meet me in the conference room." Turning to Schanke and Nilson, she told them, "I'll be back. Meanwhile, perhaps introduce yourselves a bit more fully? You will be spending much of your time together." Schanke's gaze locked with Nilson's as Cohen left, closing the door. "I don't blame you for being hesitant," Nilson said. "What do you know about it?" Schanke asked, his tone coming out far harsher than intended. "Just what I've heard. But I've also seen Knight's record--Cohen showed it to me, before you got here." "And?" "And he sounds like he was a good partner." Schanke relaxed a bit. "Yeah, Nick was a good partner." "He didn't kill her, did he?" "No, he didn't." Before the other could ask another question, Schanke turned and left the office, heading toward his desk. Problem was that, of course, it meant Nilson followed. He watched Nilson hesitate before sitting, and Schanke reluctantly nodded. It wasn't Nick's desk anymore. The IVEA had wasted no time before cleaning that out. "What cases do you have open?" Nilson then prodded. "Just the one active one." Schanke grabbed a file folder and passed it across to Nilson. "That's the autopsy report." Not feeling like explaining anything right that moment, Schanke stood, telling his new partner, "I'll be right back." He nearly turned, but asked, "Coffee?" "Sure. Decaf." Schanke headed off to the coffee machine, taking his time getting a cup for each of them. It was distracting getting two cups, and he forgot the decaf for Nilson as he examined the other out of the corner of his eye. At least Nilson seemed like a worker and seemed to think things through. He couldn't be that bad, could he? He certainly wasn't Nick, but at least it seemed better than he had imagined. Schanke headed back to his desk, three cups off coffee in hand, walking right past LaCroix, his back to the vampire as he shuffled by. Despite his image being plastered across the news, no one seemed to notice him standing along the edges, watching. No one even glanced his way. But then, this was the last place they would look for him. LaCroix carefully avoided the paths of the mortals as he watched Detective Schanke. But the other seemed hesitant to move on, seemed to be keeping his distance from his new partner. He stiffened when the mortal's eyes met his. It was a quick glance, but the mortal had clearly seen him and had clearly recognised him. And the mortal didn't react in the slightest...other than glance again, a faint smile gracing the man's eyes. Tensing further, LaCroix remained only a moment before leaving the precinct, the danger apparent. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. As Schanke headed toward his car after work, now almost a week since Nilson had been assigned as his partner, he jumped as he sat down, his key missing the ignition. A man was sitting next to him, in the passenger seat, apparently waiting for him. "Who--" "Take care what you say to your new partner, Detective." LaCroix then opened the car door, preparing to leave, his warning given. "Why are you telling me this?" Schanke quickly asked as he recognised the man's voice. "Nicholas would want me to." "And where is he?" LaCroix paused, looking out through the front window as he suppressed the emotions that rose at the question. "I do not know," he eventually answered, then left. Schanke glanced around for LaCroix once the passenger door shut, but the vampire was nowhere to be seen. Why tell him anything? The information the IVEA had released on LaCroix was enough to send a shiver through him. LaCroix was, apparently, the one that had brought both Janette and Nick across. And he had heard enough of LaCroix' radio broadcasts to believe he was just as ruthless as they were portraying him. Then, his thoughts turned to what LaCroix had told him. Was Nilson not what he seemed? They did seem to get along well...almost too well. Not perfect and not difficult, just right in the middle. Unconcerning. Nilson was just there, doing his share of the work, not overly confrontational. Schanke tensed, realising for the first time how wrong the last week felt. He would have almost preferred to go through becoming Nick's partner again. That had started badly; neither one of them had wanted to be the other's partner. But it was better than the complacent hints he was getting with Nilson, wasn't it? But could he trust LaCroix? None of this seemed right. None of it. Downward Spiral - (12/27) [Mid-June, 1995] "Aristotle, we have to get out of here now!" Nate hissed, gathering up his computer and various other items. Aristotle's expression turned toward a frown. "Why? You weren't hacking into--" "Of course I was. And I'm nearly positive they got a trace on me. Not before I managed to download quite a few of their files, but I'm sure we're compromised." Nodding absently, it took Aristotle a moment before he reacted. "Help Holly and Emily. I'll tell Nicholas." "Tell me what?" Nick asked, entering the room. "Nathaniel here just tipped off our location, that's what," Emily explained as she entered the room behind Nick. "Yeah, well, be glad I did. It's better if we're out of here now than when they get here." Aristotle froze. "What?" "They found Emily. They traced her here, to this house, through the rental papers." "Yeah, and now what?" Emily started, entering the room. "They've probably decided I'm some computer hacker thanks to the pink-haired git that can't stay out of trouble." "It's not pink. And like I said, they were already on their way! Their coming had nothing to do with anything I did!" Nate said with a near snarl. "That's enough out of both of you!" Aristotle yelled. "Now, I suggest we get what we can together and leave. We can discuss this later." After Nate and Emily shuffled off down the hall to tell Holly, Aristotle softly muttered, "Children." Then, he turned to Nick, who seemed lost in thought. "I'm surprised you haven't said anything." Nick shifted his focus to Aristotle, but didn't speak. "You don't seem at all surprised this happened," Aristotle noted. "Granted, with those three I'm not, either, but to be targeted ourselves?" "Being found is a risk, though, isn't it? It was bound to happen eventually." "Hmm, yes. And Nathaniel has hacked into their records more than often enough to spark their interest into wondering who is doing it." Aristotle watched Nick leave, heading down the hall to his room. Then, Aristotle worked on gathering various items throughout the house, making sure nothing important was left behind. When Nick was the last to be ready to leave, he was surprised. Other than the clothes he had on when Nick came to them, he had no belongings. Nick had been sharing Nathaniel's clothes, but with reluctance. The act of vacating the house took place silently, and mere minutes before dawn the five arrived in the shaded interior of a random mortal's unused barn. It was too close to dawn to completely leave the area. And besides, it was likely what was hoped for--so they could be traced. As they settled in, taking care to ensure they would be out of any mortal's way, Aristotle asked, "What information did you get?" "They have LaCroix' history. And they are and will continue to use it to emphasise Nick's history...and in turn make us all look bad. I mean, if Nick is an example of a 'good' vampire, in that he can trick a cop into siding with him...." "Kill them all," Holly voiced with a tinge of amusement. Aristotle ignored Holly, asking, "What else?" "They're slowing down revealing those they kill. They're trying to pass laws that would expand their influence. So far, that's not working. But they are also trying to develop a better method for killing us. Specifically something that would kill us in an instant...and leave mortals unharmed." "They've already done that," Nick stated. "They have tested versions of their drug, yes. But they are getting closer. They've already managed to kill two younger vampires with a current version." At that, Holly shrunk back, going silent. After all, younger vampires meant those like her. "But?" "It has to be ingested, with blood. Otherwise, it merely weakens and sickens." "How young?" Nick asked. "One had been a vampire for ten years, the other for seventy. They haven't had a chance to try it on an older vampire yet, I don't think. That's all I know without looking at what I saved. I don't know what else I got. I'll have to look through it." Nate pulled out his computer and powered it up, hoping the battery had charged enough earlier that morning. "And I found a news article earlier." Pulling up the saved article, he turned the laptop around to face Nick and Aristotle. "'IVEA Debunks Reasoning of Vampire Rights Campaigners'," Aristotle said, reading the title. A few moments later, Nick sat back, his eyes straying from the screen. Aloud, Aristotle read, "'What do we do with animals that kill or attack us? What rights do we dare give to creatures that want to kill us, treat us as a food source? Give them limited killing rights? Give them rights to stalk us, hunt us? Let each vampire kill a certain number of us per year? I think not. Vampire rights are a moot point. They are parasites without redeeming value, and that won't change. And what do we do with such parasites? Cut them out.'" "We have to say something. Do something," Emily said. "Anything." "How?" Nate asked. "If we come forward, they'll go for us. They'll take us down and either kill us or hold us captive. We'd be targets." "If we go to them on their terms," Nick commented with a whisper. "Which means we have to make our own terms." Aristotle slowly nodded. "Yes. But first we have to make home in another city. Then we'll work on seeing how much of the information Nathaniel got is new. And I hate to say it, but this next move is going to need to be in a more populated area. We're falling into a pattern, and we'll be safer surrounded by mortals." Nodding to Nate, he instructed, "Take a look at what you got. The rest of us should try to get some sleep, but sleep lightly. We are not safe here and have no idea if we've been followed or not." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nearly three weeks later, LaCroix had finally tracked his son down. It was difficult standing along the busy mid-morning street. The mortals ignored him, likely due to the sun being relatively high in the sky. He had barely fed, and the last two weeks trying to find Nick had taxed what little energy he had left. He wanted to pluck one of the busy mortals from their rushed and mundane lives. Truly, he needed to, his body demanding to feed, demanding the blood they carried as they walked so close to him. But it would be foolish to take one here, with his son and other vampires so close. LaCroix turned his attention to the building across the street, an apartment building he could faintly feel Nick's presence radiating from within. The younger vampire was still very weak, but the sheer fact that he could sense Nick had urged him to find him. And now here he was, his son so close.... Closing his eyes, LaCroix walked back into the shadows, making his way across the street, enduring several seconds of direct sunlight. No one gave him a second glance as he entered the building. Once inside, he paused, feeling even worse than he had minutes before. The few seconds of sunlight had been a few too many. It took merely moments before he had found and entered the correct apartment, surprised that the door was unlocked. It let him go unnoticed, as all the occupants were either asleep or closed off in their rooms. Following his son's presence, he found Nick just leaving the bathroom after taking a shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. Nick froze, his focus immediately locking onto the minor burns along one side of LaCroix' face and the other's blatant paleness. "LaCroix?" Walking slowly forward, LaCroix could no longer hide his hunger. He reached forward, tilting Nick's head back the instant the other was within reach. He paused for a split-second, and then struck and took the blood he so wanted and needed. At the action, Nick struggled, unprepared, but only for a moment as he felt LaCroix' urgent need. LaCroix nearly stopped when he felt Nick's muscles relax, but he continued to drain the other until Nick went wholly limp in his grip. Only then did he remember how weak the younger vampire's presence had seemed. His own need for blood had been too much. Although still weak and hungry, LaCroix took Nick across the room to the bed, half dragging and half carrying the younger vampire's limp form. "LaCroix?" Turning toward the voice, LaCroix saw Aristotle in the doorway. He didn't answer immediately, first positioning Nick on the bed more fully. "Why did you do that?" Aristotle stepped closer, approaching. When the other didn't restraighten or look at him, his concern heightened. "LaCroix?" As hungry golden eyes slowly met his, Aristotle inwardly stiffened, quickly suggesting, "Perhaps let Nicholas rest while we talk in the kitchen? I'm sure you're curious as to what we've been up to." Not answering, LaCroix looked away and left the room. Aristotle cautiously followed LaCroix to the kitchen, watching the other calmly pour a glass of blood. "Just a quick warning, but it's cow's blood." Aristotle expected a disapproving comment, and was quite surprised when LaCroix remained silent, as if he didn't care. "You haven't been taking care of yourself, LaCroix." "My...health is of no concern to you." "No, but Nicholas' is, yes?" Aristotle asked, just as LaCroix was about to take a sip of the glass, immediately halting the other's action. "What about Nicholas?" LaCroix demanded, his anger rising. "That's why you came, isn't it?" Aristotle half-taunted. "Nick's just fine, if you must know. He has recently become a bit, well, absorbed, but he is otherwise quite well, especially considering how many times we have relocated over the past couple of months." "But?" "Well, I'm sure you can imagine. Nicholas and I get along well, but the others? Between Nick's current mood and their fear it's more forced than would be ideal." "Nicholas--" "He is probably doing better than either of us at the moment! I hate to admit it, but I'm ready to pack up and find some underground bunker in Siberia and live there for the next decade or two. Many of us have already done similar." Pausing, Aristotle calmed slightly, then continued, "Nicholas has a plan, but it is dangerous. I have some others working on some research, to see if we can find a good target, but right now it's just a thought." LaCroix set his as yet untouched glass of blood on the counter behind him and walked toward the kitchen's exit. "Don't, LaCroix," Aristotle said, blocking the doorway with his arm. "It's dangerous, but it might work. And Nick seems invested in his project. Don't discount it just yet. Especially given that we don't have many options left." "And just what kind of 'project' is this?" "Doing something I don't think the IVEA is expecting. And it will hurt them greatly if it works." "That is not an answer." "No, it's not. I think Nicholas would rather tell you himself." "Then let me by." "Not until you promise you'll listen to him. Your disapproval will only strengthen his determination. What he could use most is support; something he won't accept from me, nor the young ones, but he just might take it from you." LaCroix roughly reached for Aristotle's arm, but the other was too quick and took his wrist, inciting his anger further. Easily pulling out of the other's grip, LaCroix glared at Aristotle, who still blocked his way. "Please, LaCroix. Wait and listen to him carefully before you decide a course of action. And don't push him; don't force him." Aristotle heard movement in the house and quietly added, "And I'd suggest you avoid draining him like that again. He may have appeared to have regained his strength, but he is not as strong as he looks." Giving a nod to the glass on the counter, he told him, "You'll have to share a room with Nicholas. And I would suggest drinking at least that glass, if not more, before retiring." LaCroix shut his eyes as Aristotle quickly vanished from the room. Although he hated feeling like he was being ordered around, he picked up the glass he had poured and drank it. He had waited far too long before feeding this time. Even the glass didn't help much, and it wasn't until he had drunk a full bottle of the foul tasting blood that he finally felt even remotely normal. By then, the house had gone quiet. Taking another, unopened, bottle of blood with him along with a clean glass, he returned to Nick's room. His son lay calmly on the bed, his eyes opening slightly as he approached. LaCroix sat the bottle and glass on the near-empty nightstand, watching as Nick turned away, rolling onto his back so that his eyes were focused solely on the ceiling. "Please, LaCroix, I'm tired." Smirking, just slightly, LaCroix replied, "Do not worry; I have no intention of keeping you awake. Nor myself," and then sat on the edge of the bed, slipped his shoes off, and lay down. He closed his eyes, quickly feeling Nick shift, likely to face completely away from him. But no matter. Now was time to rest. Downward Spiral - (13/27) LaCroix abruptly woke, sitting up. Nick was nowhere to be seen and, according to the clock, it was nearly midnight. Standing, LaCroix' eyes lingered on the empty bottle and untouched glass. His son had apparently drunk all of the blood, which pleased him less than expected. Then, seeing a flit of movement by the door, LaCroix turned to find Nick slowly approaching. "I'm surprised you slept so long." "And?" Nick kept silent, not expecting LaCroix to be so quiet, to reply so simply. After glancing away for a second, he asked, "Did Aristotle mention what I was working on?" "Vaguely. He referred to it as your 'project' and seemed to think you would tell me about it." Waiting, LaCroix took a step forward, and then another and another until he stopped behind Nick and in front of the door. "You will, won't you?" "You won't like it. Aristotle didn't at first. I'm even a bit wary of the idea." LaCroix' eyes narrowed. But then, Aristotle had said it was dangerous, hadn't he? But how dangerous? "And your plan?" "Give the mortals an interview. Gather questions from them and answer them. On our terms." Suppressing the urge to declare this idiotic, LaCroix demanded, "More." "Unannounced, we enter a news station, perhaps just one of us. We give the mortals inside a set amount time for them to write up questions, and then we leave. One of us will then be recorded answering as many of the questions as are appropriate. We then deliver the finished tape to several news stations, again unannounced, for the mortals to broadcast." LaCroix' lips parted as if to speak, but he didn't have anything to say. He didn't like the plan. It was, as Aristotle had told him, quite dangerous. But it was a good idea, nonetheless. But something was missing.... "It's all planned out, but so far we haven't been able to get any volunteers, and I doubt that will change." "So you're going to do this?" LaCroix asked, his tone neutral. "Risk- -" "I don't want to, LaCroix! Right now the last thing I want to do is gather up a dozen frightened mortals into a room and calmly demand questions from them." Nick turned to face LaCroix. "But unless for some insane reason you decide to volunteer, that's what I'll have to do. I have been revealed. I am the logical choice, but I'm not sure I could do it. But if I don't, the mortals are likely to destroy us before anyone else volunteers!" Stunned, particularly by his son's darker tone and faintly golden eyes, LaCroix nearly took a step back...but Nick turned away, first. "You hate them," he commented, and before Nick could look back, LaCroix took the younger man by the shoulders. "Hate is a dangerous emotion, particularly now. To loathe the mortals is one thing, but do not let it control you." Nick shrugged out of the light grip. "So you don't approve, then." Stiffening at the assumption, LaCroix hissed, "I neither approve nor disapprove!" Nick spun, saying, "Nor do you like it." "What I don't 'like' about it is how dangerous it could prove." Relaxing, Nick became unsure of the other's thoughts. "But?" he quietly asked. "If you're going to do this, I suggest you think up whatever 'insane reason' is going to get me to help you." Nick's jaw dropped open as LaCroix turned and left the room, not giving him the opportunity to reply. He then followed LaCroix out to the main room, where Aristotle, Nathaniel, Holly and Emily were gathered, their attention quickly turning from their conversation to LaCroix. "Good to see you up, Lucius," Aristotle greeted. Not expecting a response, he quickly introduced Nathaniel, Holly, and Emily, seeing LaCroix' disapproval at Nathaniel's choice of fashion and Holly's clear fright. When LaCroix' eyes fell back on his own, Aristotle asked, "You didn't say how long you would be staying?" "Not...long." Seeing Nick approach and stop just behind him and to the side, he smirked faintly and replied, "As long as Nicholas stays, perhaps?" Then, he turned and gave a smile to Nick and headed to the kitchen. Nick followed without a hint of hesitation, wondering what LaCroix was implying. Holly stood up to follow, but Nathaniel pulled her back down onto the couch. Emily also stood, not immediately following the other two out as Aristotle raised his hand in a silent command for her to remain, but her obedience lasted only seconds before she, too, left. In the kitchen, Nick walked up to LaCroix as he poured a glass of blood at the counter. Leaning over the other's shoulder, he whispered, "Am I correct that you're volunteering to help me if I do this?" "Perhaps," LaCroix said in a faint whisper. He again smiled, answering, "If you do this, I'll assist with the first task." Nick gripped LaCroix' shoulder, leaning over even further, his lips almost touching LaCroix' ear. "Seriously?" LaCroix turned, his eyes flitting to Emily peering at them across the room. After corking the bottle he had opened, he raised the glass to his lips, and took a sip. Giving a nod of affirmation to Nick, he passed the glass to him. The blood just under his nose, Nick was too tempted to refuse, and he took a long drink from the glass. LaCroix then shifted his attention to Emily. "Yes?" "I, ah...." His smirk back, LaCroix headed back to the other room, his gaze lingering on the speechless vampiress, rendering her even more anxious. Emily's attention shifted to Nick as he drank the remainder of the glass and, once empty, placed it in the sink. Still somewhat stunned by LaCroix' departure, she barely noticed as Nick left. Once LaCroix and Nick had returned to the other room, this time sitting, Aristotle asked, "Nicholas did tell you of his idea, yes?" LaCroix slowly nodded, his expression becoming completely serious, only a faint sparkle in his eyes remaining from earlier. "And?" Aristotle prodded. His focus shifted momentarily toward Emily as she re-entered, but quickly returned to LaCroix. Keeping silent, a bit of LaCroix' smirk reappeared. At the lack of answer, Holly crossed her arms, pushed back into the corner of the couch, and said, "Well, I think it's stupid." Emily stepped closer, stopping only once she was well within LaCroix' sight. Facing him, she asked, "You like the idea, don't you?" LaCroix gave only a cursory glance to Emily before his gaze returned to Aristotle. "It is not ideal. But, given the situation, what would be?" Aristotle asked, then did his best to read the other's expression, continuing, "You do like the idea, perhaps not fully, but enough to think it might work?" "Yes." Aristotle leaned back, both relieved and bothered by LaCroix' opinion. "Finding a volunteer has been difficult, as you can imagine. Who wants to reveal themselves? Unfortunately, most of those with revealed identities are dead. And Nicholas has still yet to offer to volunteer...." He paused, glancing to Nick. "Not that I blame you. I, too, would be hesitant if I were in your position." "But there's no choice, is there? The only living vampires known to the vast majority of mortals are myself, LaCroix, and Janette." Nick's attention wandered, "And of the three of us...." Aristotle nodded. "You're the most 'normal' in the mortal's eyes due to your various careers and closeness to them." Turning his attention to LaCroix, Aristotle said, "And no offence, LaCroix, but I think most mortals...well, I don't think you would be an ideal ambassador given what little has been revealed about you. Same with Janette. Nick's history is at least mixed." "When would you suggest acting on this? When is it planned for?" LaCroix asked. "A planned time?" Aristotle nearly laughed. "There is no set time. The IVEA has been rather silent lately and, combined with the general curiosity and demand for answers from the public, now is the time. A week ago would have been even better." "Then Nicholas will do this." "Well, that's--" Aristotle cut off, realising he was about to speak theoretically but that LaCroix was speaking literally. "Did he say that?" He turned to Nick, slightly surprised. He knew Nick had wanted to take no part in this plan if at all possible. "I'll do it. I don't have much choice, anyway, do I?" Aristotle stood, eager to put things in motion but also worried that Nick didn't actually want to do this, despite his words. "Well, if you're going to volunteer," he slowly started, then paused, turning his eyes onto Nate. After a slight pause he continued, "Then I'm going to assign Nate to camera duty." "Me? I--" "All you have to do is record Nick answering the questions. Unless you'd like to help him with the rest, instead?" Nate shrunk back with a shake of his head. He had no wish to be seen by the mortals. "No, I'll take the first." As the room settled into an uneasy silence, Nick glanced toward LaCroix, only looking back when Emily crossed the room. "LaCroix?" Directing his gaze away, LaCroix closed his eyes for a moment. Then, attention back on Aristotle, he stated, "I will help Nicholas obtain the questions." Aristotle narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure? This would certainly increase Nick's chance of success, but--" "But what?" LaCroix hissed, his disdain of the other questioning his decision clear. Stiffening, Aristotle dropped the thought right there. If LaCroix wanted to help, there was nothing he could do to stop that. "Well then, I guess we'll work a little more on pinpointing our target." Then, looking to Nick, he said, "Not you, though. You and LaCroix should probably do whatever planning you two want to do ahead of time." With that, Aristotle urged Emily, Holly, and Nate out of the room, starting down the hall toward Nate's room. Once they were alone, LaCroix stood and started toward the entrance of the apartment. "Where are you going?" "Out for a little night-time air.... You're free to accompany me, of course." "No," Nick quickly answered, tensing. When LaCroix did the same, Nick relaxed, elaborating, "Perhaps later. Just...not right now, not tonight." LaCroix gave a faint nod, then left. Now alone, Nick leaned back, wondering just how much work the others needed to do. With all the time he had spent on his own, he highly suspected Aristotle had most of everything planned. He knew Aristotle had been waiting for him to give in, and now that that was done, he just needed to keep calm. At the moment, however, he still far preferred LaCroix' company to any of the others. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The following night, Aristotle again told Nick to either prepare or rest, that he and the others would be fine without help. Nick already knew they had a list before the previous night and that it was mostly just narrowing it down to the best options. Given that they had previously been unaware of when they would act, they were likely rechecking to make sure their plan or the possible locations didn't need altered. And while he didn't have the specifics planned, he had plenty of ideas for actually carrying it out. Tonight, however, when LaCroix left the apartment several hours past midnight, Nick remained only a few minutes before he also left, discretely following the other for several blocks. Sensing Nick approach, LaCroix whispered, "I'm surprised you chose my company over silence, especially as we've barely spoken since before Janette and I left Toronto." Nick slowed as LaCroix turned to face him. Giving his son a partial smile, LaCroix added, "Pleasantly surprised, of course." Accepting the added remark, Nick turned his focus back on what was more immediately relevant. "What do you really think of this plan, LaCroix? Really, truly?" "Well, it is better than sitting and waiting." "LaCroix--" "Things must change, Nicholas. Something must be done. And the longer we wait, the more time the mortals have to believe what they've been told." Narrowing his eyes, Nick pointedly asked, "Why do you care? They're not even that far off on your description." LaCroix looked to the side--his gaze shifting just enough that his eyes didn't quite meet the other's. "You know something, don't you?" "The mortals have spies. I'm sure you know that." "And? What of it?" This time, LaCroix turned completely away. "LaCroix, please." "Your partner. Your detective friend--" "Schanke was no spy." "No. No, he is no spy." LaCroix then turned back, continuing in a whisper, "But the Detective he is now paired with is. I am certain of it." "Then he's in danger." "He has been warned. And I do not believe he is in any danger." "You warned him?" Nick asked, suspicious. "Yes. I thought it wise after the man made eye contact with me, clearly recognising both who and what I am, and then did nothing. It's a game to him." "They know more about us, don't they? They're close to being able to track us." "Likely. A week ago, I caught a mortal tailing me. Fortunately, the mortal's mind was weak. And unfortunately, yes, I believe they have been tracking you. They're slightly behind, but they'll link you and the others." "You came to tell Aristotle--" "I came to retrieve you," LaCroix corrected. "And, yes, to suggest to Aristotle that he and the others split into smaller groups." Nick averted his eyes. LaCroix had volunteered purposely, likely for one reason only--to retrieve him, as he had stated. Not that it really mattered. It just gave more reason to not waste any more time. Walking over to Nick, LaCroix stopped at his son's side and delightedly mentioned, "Remember what it was like having mortals hunting us, only to hunt them in return?" For a moment, Nick did remember. But the thoughts quickly halted. "We can't hunt them, LaCroix. You know that." LaCroix laughed. "Taking the fun away, as usual...." Then, more seriously, he nodded and commented, "We can't hunt them, but we'll be better at avoiding them than they'll expect, won't we, Nicholas?" Nick turned his head to the side. "Perhaps." "Good." Starting away, LaCroix took several steps and then asked, "Has Aristotle mentioned how long he needed to finish the initial plans?" "No," Nick answered, not turning back to look at LaCroix. "But...I did hear them talking. I think they're picking between a few different locations." "And?" LaCroix prodded, his voice tainted with anger. "Is that all they're deciding?" "I could be wrong. Yet any specific plans I think are our responsibility. Other than picking a location, I don't know what more they would need to...." Seeing LaCroix move away out of the corner of his eye, Nick called after him to wait, but LaCroix was already heading back to the apartment. Nick followed LaCroix, catching up to the other just at the apartment door. "LaCroix--" "Wouldn't you prefer to get this started?" "Well, yes, but--" "I am merely going to ask how much longer we must wait." Nick remained at the door as LaCroix entered. For just a moment, he had the impression that LaCroix didn't feel safe here. Could the mortals be that close to tracking one of them? Is that why LaCroix wanted them away from here so quickly? Were they closer than LaCroix implied? Nick slowly entered and waited for LaCroix to return. But it was Aristotle that left first. "We'll have a target picked by tonight, LaCroix. It's not as simple as picking at random. We need a building that will be easy for you and Nick to round up all of the mortals...yet easy for you two to get out of. And it's not just a matter of location, but time. You don't want to go in there when there's too many mortals, nor too few." "Just don't wait until it's too late." "Too late?" Aristotle asked, curious as to what this was from. When Aristotle looked toward him, Nick explained, "LaCroix thinks the mortals are close to finding us." "Really?" Looking from Nick to LaCroix, and eventually settling on LaCroix, Aristotle demanded, "Are you serious, LaCroix?" "Aren't I always?" "Well, I suppose it's best to err on the side of caution, hmm?" Despite LaCroix' almost jesting tone, Aristotle was visibly losing his calm. Then, more seriously, Aristotle stated, "You're planning to leave as soon as possible." "Yes." "With Nick?" "Of course." Aristotle glanced at Nick, who seemed completely unfazed. Preparing to return back down the hall, Aristotle looked back to LaCroix for just a moment, telling him, "It'll still be tonight, LaCroix. And by tonight, I mean sunset." Once they were alone in the room, LaCroix joked, "You don't seem too enthusiastic, Nicholas." "Why should I be? This might not even work. And even it if does, it could backfire and not do any good." Nick closed his eyes, pausing. Then, he told LaCroix, "If we're leaving tomorrow night, I'm going to bed," and left. Downward Spiral - (14/27) Two nights later, in a random hotel along a minor highway, LaCroix woke suddenly at the sound of a piece of paper being flipped over. He sat up and turned to find Nick looking through the file Aristotle had given them the previous evening. Closing his eyes for a moment, LaCroix asked, "Picked a location yet, Nicholas?" Nick snapped his attention toward LaCroix, startled that the other was awake. Without speaking, he took the page he was looking at and handed it toward the other. Taking the sheet of paper, LaCroix immediately focused on the location listed above a rough schematic of a building: Detroit. "And the other options?" "Vancouver and Portland." "Portland...?" "Oregon." "And Detroit because?" "The building has more exits than the others and less security." LaCroix' eyes narrowed, aware there had to be more. "Both Portland and Vancouver are on the West Coast, mere hours from here. Detroit is more than a day's travel. It's because it's closer to Toronto. You cannot return there, Nicholas. You know that." "I can return to Toronto whenever I wish, LaCroix. But I've already stated my reasons for choosing Detroit. It's a better target. And, yes, it's closer to Toronto and as such, possibly, we will be less suspected." Nick took the pages on the other two stations and shoved them toward LaCroix. "Here. Compare them and tell me which target you would prefer." LaCroix was somewhat surprised at the abruptness, but took the sheets. Glancing through each page, including the one the other had already given him, he carefully compared the three. Vancouver, British Columbia, was a close second, hindered by the poor layout of the building and the note of 'increased probability of interruptions'. Portland, Oregon, was in fact neither Portland nor Oregon, but instead Vancouver, Washington. And while otherwise optimal, the increased security in the building, specifically an on-site security guard watching the cameras, made the station the least appealing. The small station in Detroit had both lax security and a good layout--and a note about being predictable. "And?" LaCroix sat the pages on the bed next to him, nodding slightly. "Detroit would be the simplest." Nick pulled another page out of the folder and passed it to LaCroix. Seeing that the sheet detailed the number of people in the building at various times throughout the night, LaCroix once again narrowed his eyes. "Aristotle had the stations watched for several weeks." About to ask how Nick knew that, LaCroix' gaze caught on an asterisk by 12:45 a.m. and then spotted the other asterisk a bit above the bottom of the page and read the note to himself: "Best time, usually between eight and twelve mortals in the building. Least possibility of an interruption. Tuesday nights are the most predictable." LaCroix turned back to his son. "You've already made plans, haven't you?" Nick stiffened. "Yes." "And you plan for us to go to Toronto after we leave Detroit." "Yes," Nick whispered, quickly averting his gaze. Separating the pages and handing the non-relevant pages back, LaCroix simply said, "Burn them, and then we will leave." Still tense, Nick watched as LaCroix calmly stood and crossed the room, pulled on his jacket and straightened his clothes. He stood up, nearly taking a step forward but stopping. "You...have no objections?" "Toronto is no worse a choice than any other city. If you wish to risk--" "Schanke will be in no danger unless we draw attention to our presence there!" "I said nothing about endangering your partner! But we will not be able to stay long, if at all. It is dangerous for us." "We won't be expected to go to Toronto. And it will only be until we need to leave to meet Nathaniel." LaCroix took the pages he didn't give Nick, neatly folded them, and put them in his inside jacket pocket. "Destroy the rest of the papers, Nicholas. If we are to be in Detroit by midnight Tuesday, we should leave now." After a few seconds, Nick nodded. LaCroix was right in that they needed to leave now. It was Sunday night and they had a little less than 48 hours to reach their destination. Doable, but it would be tiring. Walking to the hotel room's door, LaCroix turned back and told Nick, "I will ensure that our presence here has gone unnoticed, and then I will wait for you. Do not linger long." As soon as LaCroix left, Nick turned his gaze to the sheets of paper in his hand. LaCroix had practically accepted his decision with barely a hint of argument. But then, what other choice did LaCroix have? Nick stiffened and closed his eyes, focusing on the calm and controlled energy that faded as LaCroix' presence moved further away. His eyes snapped open, realising the other's thoughts mirrored his own; they both felt helpless to this. LaCroix wanted this done with. And so did he. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. As a woman finished cleaning up her work area at a lightboard, Nick and LaCroix slid into a shadow a short distance away. They had already found the briefing room and prepared it, leaving a stack of paper and a box of pens--both fresh out of the station's front desk-- in the centre of the table. All that was needed was a messenger. Looking to LaCroix, Nick received a nod. As soon as the woman had finished and headed for the hall, Nick grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth to prevent her from screaming. LaCroix then stepped out into the open, at which the woman struggled harder. Lips twisting into a smile, LaCroix locked his gaze with the mortal's. "Know that you will not be harmed." Stepping closer, his voice softened as he intoned, "*There is nothing to be frightened of. You will relax. Nothing to be afraid of....*" Feeling the woman relax, Nick slowly released his grip. When the mortal stood still, dazed by LaCroix' words, Nick saw LaCroix' mood brighten ever so slightly. "*Now, you will listen very carefully to my voice.... Listen and commit to memory. The producer called the station. He is on his way over for a short meeting. You are to tell your co-workers to meet in the briefing room at ten till one.*" The woman's lips moved faintly, but she didn't speak. "*What are you to do?*" "The producer called a meeting...." "*Yes. You just spoke to him. Gather the others.*" LaCroix turned the woman around by the shoulders and whispered into her ear, "*You didn't see anyone in the building. All that's on your mind is the call you just received and the meeting you'll be going to. Nothing more. Now go.*" LaCroix gave her a light push on the back, and he and Nick headed in the other direction, to the briefing room. They both entered the dark room, quickly finding cover behind a partition. "We can still leave, Nicholas." Nick closed his eyes and shook his head. "No. No, we're here. It'll take a whole fifteen minutes. Let's just get it over with." Nick looked down at his watch, and he could just make out the time: 12:40. They still had ten minutes. He leaned back against the wall only to stiffen a few seconds later as the door opened and the room's lights snapped on. Over the next ten minutes seven more mortals entered the room, each sitting at the table, talking quietly among themselves. Eventually, the conversation turned to what the meeting was going to be about. Two minutes past their set time, Nick met LaCroix' gaze for a second, then headed out into the open. Conversation stopped immediately. Everyone sitting at the table reacted in some way, fear the dominating emotion. One man stood and two others made to do the same, but stopped at scooting their chairs back. The other five sat in various states of fright. Nick slowly walked toward the table. "You all know who and what I am, yes?" he asked, his voice controlled and even, almost harsh. The man that had stood up immediately asked, "What are you going to do with us?" "First, sit down," Nick said, the instruction directed solely at the one who questioned him. The man shook his head. "I know what you are, what you have done." "You know nothing about me," Nick responded, his anger rising and making itself present in his tone as he nearly hissed the words at the mortal. "I would do as Nicholas has asked," LaCroix spoke, stepping up behind Nick, his gaze locked on the mortal who had spoken. When the man sat down, LaCroix continued, adding, "We are not here to be accused." "You called this meeting," said the woman that LaCroix had earlier influenced. "Yes," Nick answered. He nodded to the centre of the table, where the pens and paper sat. "You have until one o'clock to write down any questions you have about my kind." At that, several hands reached toward the items in the centre. "Anything about vampires?" another woman asked as the others started writing. "Yes. Anything about what we are and what is happening. I'll tell you now that not everything the news has reported is accurate or, in some cases, even correct." For a moment, the only noise was the scratching of pen on paper. Then, the same woman that had asked the last question cautiously asked, "Is there anything we can't ask?" Nick didn't immediately answer, closing his eyes for a second. As he heard others stop writing as well, apparently curious of the answer, Nick told them, "Personal questions will more than likely go unanswered." "You have three minutes," LaCroix said, turning the mortal's attention back to the pieces of paper in front of them. At one o'clock, LaCroix walked up to the closest mortal, hand outstretched to take the piece of paper sitting before them. After a second, it was handed to him, at which he went on, silently, to the next mortal. As LaCroix continued counter-clockwise around the table, Nick told them, "Ask what questions you want now. I'm sure you're curious why we're doing this." "What do you want the questions for?" "To answer, of course," LaCroix responded. Shooting a glance at LaCroix' for the reply, Nick explained, "We will try to answer at least three questions from each of you." "Now?" "No. It is too dangerous for us to linger, even here. The answers will be recorded on a video tape and distributed." "When, how?" "I can't say. But it will most likely be within the next few weeks." "Will we receive one of the copies?" Nick paused. He couldn't answer this question, one way or the other, and so he simply replied, "Perhaps, and perhaps not." The information seemed to satisfy those present, and as LaCroix collected the last sheet, the two headed toward the room's exit. "What about questions of curiosity?" Before either Nick or LaCroix had a chance to answer, another half- blurted, "Did you kill her?" at which all movement at the table stopped. Nick froze solid, his gaze quickly shifting to the mortal that had asked the last question. He relaxed slightly when he saw that the man's face held far more interest and far less malice than he had expected. Even so, Nick barely kept his eyes from turning, the topic not something he wished to talk about to these strangers. Flatly, he told the mortal, "No, I did not." Then, after a few silent seconds, Nick left with LaCroix following closely behind him, no further questions being asked as they departed. Nor did any of the mortals attempt to follow them. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. As the sun rose, Nick and LaCroix just barely arrived in Toronto and made it to the Schanke residence. Going to the back door, the rising sun cast their shadows against the house and burnt their exposed skin. Nick paused only a few short moments before he forcibly twisted the knob, breaking the lock, and he and LaCroix cautiously entered. The house seemed silent, but Nick slowed as he smelt coffee brewing in the kitchen. Turning to LaCroix, he whispered, "Let me talk to Myra first." He waited only a few seconds before heading toward the heartbeat heading toward them. Nick caught Myra just as she left the main hall, grabbing her from behind much like he did the woman at the station earlier that night. "Don't be frightened," he said, and then released her. "Nick?" Myra asked as she turned around, watching him turn away. "How...I mean, the sun came up a few minutes--" She cut off as Nick looked right at her and she saw small burns on the right side of his face. "We need a place to stay, at least for the day. Come nightfall you can kick us out if you don't want us here." "Are you in danger? Is someone--" "We need a place to rest, that is all," LaCroix said. Myra spun at the icy voice, her eyes widening upon seeing the other man, the other vampire. She noticed similar burns on his face as well. "You'll know plenty when the morning news comes on," LaCroix told her, managing a slight smirk. Nick stepped up behind Myra, sensing her fear through her quickening heartbeat. "We came here because we can't risk being found." Unintentionally, Nick moved closer, closing his eyes. A wave of weakness travelled through him and he took a step away, his eyes snapping open. As his hand touched the wall, Nick felt calm from the cool and solid surface, at which he leaned against it. "Please, Myra, we need to rest." Turning back to face Nick, Myra's pulse shot up further upon seeing his golden eyes. She nearly spoke, but instead gasped feeling hands on her shoulders. "We may stay, yes?" LaCroix demanded, whispering into the mortal's ear. "Y-yes, of course," Myra told him, turning to find another pair of golden eyes. "Is there anything I can do to help--" "We will be fine," LaCroix softly stated as he walked by Myra. Taking Nick by the arm, he turned the younger toward the hall and quietly asked, "Where?" Nick didn't answer, he merely headed down the hall to the spare bedroom he had stayed in before. Myra followed, but stopped after they entered the room and shut the door, making it clear she wasn't to follow. Downward Spiral - (15/27) As soon as Schanke arrived home, he flipped the television on. He had heard, vaguely, that Nick had done something in Detroit...but hadn't yet figured out what, exactly. The radio on the way home hadn't been too helpful, other than to tell him information on what happened was slowly filtering down and that Nick--and LaCroix--had popped up at a Detroit news station. As local news wasn't on, Schanke flipped to a cable news channel and stared blankly at the unflattering photos displayed of Nick and LaCroix up one side of the screen as the reporter spoke: "-Brabant and Lucien LaCroix showed themselves at KLEW, a local station in Detroit, Michigan. Earlier this morning Lisa May was on site with Martin Ledbetter, one of the station employees in the building at the time." Schanke watched the screen switch to a woman and a man, sitting in what looked like a large briefing room. "You said this was completely unsuspected?" "Well, it was odd to have a meeting at almost one in the morning, but not unheard of. We had no idea anything was wrong until one of them stepped out into the open." "What happened, exactly?" "Well, we came here, for a meeting, expecting the producer's arrival. Just after we were supposed to be there, Knight... Brabant...he comes out into the open. And then the other followed a moment later. Brabant told us to write down what questions we had about vampires. After a few minutes they took the sheets. They said they'd be making a tape with answers. They were here ten, maybe fifteen minutes." "And their demeanour?" "Well, they were a bit...distant and almost harsh. They looked weary, and paler than any of the photos I've seen of them. Reminded me how I get after I've pulled several long shifts; drained of energy and a bit easy to irritate." "Are you saying they seemed dangerous?" "Ah, well...no," the man said, shaking his head somewhat slowly. I mean, yeah, maybe they were on-edge, but, no, I wouldn't actually say they were dangerous." Schanke's eyes had by now widened slightly. Dangerous? Was that what they were trying to call Nick? The screen flipped back to the other reporter, who continued: "The employees all have similar relations of events, all conveying a sense of tenseness and distrust in the two vampires. The IVEA is looking for both Brabant and LaCroix for--" Schanke switched off the television. He knew what they wanted to find Nick and LaCroix for--to kill them before they could follow through with this. "Don?" Schanke turned to his wife, for a second, then wasting no time before venting about the news he told her, "Why can't they just wait and see what's going to happen? And why does everyone seem to try and put a negative spin on Nick and them? Maybe once they get their side out things will start going better." He stared at the blank television screen for several seconds, then mused aloud, "I hope Nick's thought this through; hope he's okay." "I'm not sure he is." "What?" Schanke asked, turning sharply back toward Myra as she approached. Then, he raised the hand he held the remote in, asking, "What else did they say?" "No, it's nothing that's been on the news. Nick, he's here," Myra said, taking the remote. "He and the other man, LaCroix, got here just after dawn. They're in the spare bedroom." Schanke didn't move for nearly a minute, his mind trying to wrap itself around what Myra had just told him. Nick, who he honestly never expected to see again, was back, here, in his home? Then, Schanke started for the hall, but only took a step when he felt Myra's hand on his arm. "Take care. Perhaps let them sleep?" "Why? What--" "Don't worry, nothing happened. But, like I said, I'm not sure Nick's really okay. And they both looked unwell. They are quite pale and...." Myra paused a few seconds, then finished, "And they both had slight burns. They said they needed rest, and they haven't had much time to--" Myra halted mid-sentence when her husband broke away and headed for the hall anyway, fully aware that if he wanted to check on Nick she couldn't stop him. Schanke reached the door to the spare room in seconds, but paused outside the door. Would he wake Nick? Or just check, to see that he was really there? And LaCroix...he didn't particularly like the idea of having LaCroix in his home for some reason. Seeing Myra approach, he turned toward her. "Jenny, she left for a friend's just a few minutes ago. I...told her she could stay out until dinner. She doesn't know they're here yet." Nodding absently, Schanke reached out for the doorknob and, quietly, entered the room. He pushed the door closed but for a small crack and paused as his eyes adjusted to the dark room. On the bed were Nick and LaCroix. The latter seemed calm; lying on his back, sound asleep. Nick looked less comfortable as he lay mostly on his stomach, his body seeming tense. Schanke nearly turned and left, but seeing Nick shift slightly he decided to approach. After all, if Nick was already nearly awake.... Reaching out to gently wake Nick, Schanke snatched his hand back when Nick opened his eyes. A few seconds passed where neither of them made any movement. "Nick?" Schanke whispered. "You awake?" Nick closed his eyes at the question. He hadn't slept at all since he and LaCroix had arrived at Schanke's. He thought he would fall right to sleep, but he had already been waiting to do just that for more than two hours. "Nick?" Schanke again prodded, moving a little closer. "I'm awake," Nick replied, shifting onto his side and then slowly sitting up. Schanke's attention darted past Nick upon seeing the other vampire move, likely woken by Nick's movement. Quickly, he focused back on Nick and quickly realised Nick looked exhausted. "You...look like you haven't slept." "I don't think I have." "I can, ah, go if you'd prefer to get some sleep?" "No, I'm up." Nick went to stand, but halted his attempt and closed his eyes almost immediately. He sat for a little longer, glad Schanke hadn't yet said anything more. And then he tried again, this time standing, albeit a bit unsteadily at first. Nick gave a quick glance to Schanke before heading out of the room. He paused upon seeing Myra, instinctively looking away as their eyes met. Concerned when Nick stopped, Schanke asked, "Is something wrong?" "No." Glancing back at Schanke, Nick repeated, "No, nothing's wrong," and then continued into the main living area. Silently, he went to the windows and pulled the drapes shut, darkening the room significantly. Schanke slowly followed Nick. Despite the other's answer, he knew something was up. Nick seemed different. It was more than just the outward hint of tiredness; Nick's whole movement was off. And then it hit him. Nick was acting more like when they first became partners. He was wary and guarded. Granted, Nick had never lost those qualities, but his manner seemed almost unfriendly, cold, and that was something he hadn't seen in a while. "We can leave as soon as the sun sets." "Nick--" "I heard the news earlier, before you got back. They're looking for us." "But they couldn't have traced you here, right?" Schanke asked, knowing it was unlikely. "You and LaCroix came straight here, yes?" "Yes, but--" "Then they have no reason to think you are here. But if you leave, there's a greater chance of them finding you, right? I'd think that right now you wouldn't want to be found. And they're going to look hard, especially if they can stop your plan." "Being here endangers your family, Schanke. Your wish for us to stay isn't enough." "What about mine?" Myra asked, approaching Nick from the side. "I agree with Don. If you haven't been traced here, we're in no more danger than if you weren't here. Less, perhaps, given what you are." Nick spun toward the voice, but didn't have an immediate response. "You came here because you thought it was the best option, right?" Myra continued, stepping closer. "If you want to stay, Nick, please do. Don't feel that you have to leave." Closing his eyes, Nick looked away. Although deep down he wanted to turn down the offer, he also knew here was the safest place to be right now. Seeing Myra moving closer, Nick sidestepped as she reached out a hand toward him. "I'm sorry, I just--" Myra stiffened when Nick turned toward her, his icy gaze making her take a step back. "I should leave you two to talk." Myra moved away, her gaze alternating between them. "I'll be in the kitchen." "Myra, could you maybe bring me a cup of coffee?" Myra nodded and then, just as she turned to leave, she saw Nick shift and look like he wanted to say something. Schanke also noticed Nick wavering between keeping silent and not. "Nick?" "I could maybe use something to drink?" he asked, uncertainly. "How about some water?" Myra asked. "I'd bring you some coffee, but I'm guessing water would be better?" "Water would be fine." Forcing a smile, Myra turned and headed to the kitchen. Schanke held back, watching Nick's attention stray. When Nick slowly took a few steps forward, toward the couch, and then sat down, Schanke finally asked, "You haven't, ah, fed recently, have you? Is that even the right term? I've, well, never even seen you drink water before or ask for it. You dehydrated or, well, hungry enough that you can drink water?" Nick ignored most of Schanke's rambling. In truth, he had no particular want for the water, but it might preoccupy his hunger for a little. "Something like that." "Come on, Nick, you can at least tell me how you are, right?" Meeting Schanke's gaze fully, Nick told the other, "Blood isn't exactly easy to come by, Schanke. And, frankly, I haven't been feeling very hungry." "So you're not getting enough blood." "That, and travelling is...taxing. I mean, we can't exactly travel by normal means. We'd be spotted. Flying takes energy." Eyes drifting to the floor, Nick added, "And sometimes sleep doesn't come easy." Schanke absently nodded his head. "It adds up." Nick silently echoed Schanke's nod. When Myra approached from the kitchen a couple of minutes later, Nick stiffened but managed to mutter, "Thanks," as she sat a glass of cold water down on the table along with a mug of coffee. Schanke cautiously approached Nick and sat on the couch. He was about to ask Nick a question, but stopped when Nick picked up the remote for the TV and switched it on. The news came up, the newscaster reporting: "The IVEA has traced two unnamed vampires from the Los Angeles area to Colorado. It is believed that they, along with Brabant, LaCroix, and at least two others, were behind the plans for the disruption last night in Detroit." Nick immediately turned his gaze down as he quickly hit the mute button. He kept his eyes away from the screen for several seconds, at which he reached for the glass of water and drank a large gulp of the clear liquid with a cringe. His eyes glancing back up to the news, Nick turned the volume back on as a dark image flashed on the screen with two familiar figures--Holly and Aristotle--the latter's face clearly visible. "Information on this man is being sought. Both he and the young woman seen with him are suspected vampires and should not be approached. They were last seen two nights ago in New Mexico and are believed to be heading east. They are suspected to be the other two vampires aiding Brabant and are believed to be planning to meet up with--" Nick, who had tensed considerably, shut the television off and took another large drink from his water. He didn't need to hear the rest. Ignoring his coffee, Schanke watched Nick drink the rest of the water in a single gulp with astonishment. Schanke couldn't ignore the ashen tone Nick now had to his skin, but wasn't sure if it was the water, the news, or both that caused it. With care, Schanke quietly asked, "You recognised them, didn't you? They, the IVEA that is, they're on to something." Watching Nick tense, Schanke abruptly and nervously added, "You don't have to answer. It's just--" "It's fine," Nick half-hissed, then relaxed, turning to Schanke apologetically. "I...should probably tell you, actually." Nick turned away, whispering, "With Aristotle being discovered, this becomes more dangerous." "Aristotle?" "The man in the picture they showed. Aristotle knows I was hoping to come here, to you. I don't know if he'll try contacting me or not. If so, it will most likely be through you." "He was working with you, wasn't he? Like they suspect." "I've been travelling with him and three others the last couple of months." "So, him, the woman, LaCroix and Janette?" "No. No, I left them to go with Aristotle. Until a few days ago, I hadn't seen LaCroix. And Janette? I have no idea where Janette is. Aristotle...he was working with three younger vampires I didn't know." "He's not, well, you know...." "What?" "Well, Aristotle. You know, the real one--not to say your friend isn't real--but he's not that Aristotle, right?" "No, he's not," Nick answered, almost managing a smile. "Actually, he usually keeps a low-profile. He's good at it. It was, and still is, his, ah, expertise." Schanke tensed, seeing Nick's carefully hidden concern. "If he's been found--" "If he's been found--or worse, if any of his records have been found-- my kind are very much in trouble." "Records? What kind of records? So, what, he's some kind of vampire record keeper?" Schanke half-joked, but kept his tone calm and curious. "Yes." "Yes?" Schanke's eyes went a bit wide. "Records.... Wait a second, you said he's good at keeping a low-profile...so he helps to keep your kind off the radar?" "Something like that." Schanke paused, letting his thoughts multiply at Nick's answer. Clearly, Nick didn't want to talk about it. "So, ah, well, are you meeting with him like they think?" Nick shook his head. "No." "You're meeting the other two." Nick sharply turned to face Schanke, initially a bit surprised by the guess. "Yes. However; this has become significantly more dangerous." Nick stood up, starting to pace almost immediately. Watching Nick's slow but increasingly anxious steps, Schanke prodded, "Is this going to change what you're doing?" Mid-step, Nick stopped. Turning to Schanke, he whispered, "I don't know. I'll have to talk to LaCroix tonight." "You going to try and get some sleep?" Nick stopped just shy of leaving the room and looked back. Not answering Schanke's question, Nick told him, "You'll have to tell Jenny we're here before tonight and make sure she says nothing." "She still remembers you being here, Nick. Whatever Janette did, it didn't work. Jenny told us a couple of weeks after you left." Nick stiffened. If Jenny was a resistor, then he and LaCroix would have to watch what they said around her. "Then make sure she knows of LaCroix' lack of patience." Not giving Schanke the opportunity to respond, Nick returned back to the bedroom. Schanke sat, his eyes falling on his now cold cup of coffee. Nick was in more trouble than he had planned. Seeing a shadow approaching on the floor, he looked up to find Myra bringing him another cup of coffee and slowly shook his head. "I shouldn't. I should probably get to bed in case Nick--" "Trust me, you'll want it." "Why?" he asked, taking the mug from her. "Well, the lock for the back door is broken, so...." "Broken? It was fine last night. How did--" And then it hit him: Nick. "Oh. Never mind. Yeah, more coffee would be good." Downward Spiral - (16/27) Nick followed LaCroix out of the Toronto Metro area until lights were fewer and further in-between. They eventually headed to the ground, at which LaCroix then started quickly toward a dark house on foot. Nick closed his eyes, but reopened them after instinctively stepping closer from hunger. His attention immediately locked onto the handful of heartbeats coming from inside--two dogs and a mortal. In seconds, he had passed LaCroix. In a few more seconds, both he and LaCroix were inside the house. LaCroix flinched at the state of the home's interior. The mortal who lived here either didn't care what others thought of the house or lived alone and had no reason to care. LaCroix headed straight to the mortal, expecting Nick to be right behind him. He heard the dogs for mere seconds--first alert and alarmed, then a whimper, more barking, another whimper, and then nothing. By then, the mortal was awake and approaching to investigate. When a middle-aged woman stepped into the hall, LaCroix snatched her before she even saw him, biting her on the neck in an instant. Next thing he knew, however, he was being pushed back and Nick brutally started draining the woman. "Nicholas!" he hissed, but it did nothing to stop the other. He hadn't even taken enough blood to kill the woman, and he was so stunned that Nick had pushed him away that he barely noticed her heartbeat fade. LaCroix had stepped back despite his want for blood being more enticed than satiated. He let Nick drain her completely, fully aware that his son needed the blood far more than he. When Nick dropped the woman, LaCroix slowly shifted to the other side of the body, his eyes not leaving Nick. "Nicholas--" "Don't say a word, LaCroix!" Nick hissed, barring his fangs at the other and heading out of the house. LaCroix stiffened, but otherwise didn't react. Alone in the house, he did what he could to cover the bite marks, slashing the wounds with a knife in the woman's kitchen. Going to the other room, he found the two dogs, both drained. He knelt and did the same to their bite wounds, stabbing the knife into one of the animals. He paused for a moment, still somewhat surprised by his son's actions. He wiped the handle free of his fingerprints as a precaution, although he suspected it didn't matter. She would certainly be found, and a trained eye would undoubtedly be able to tell it was a vampire...but likely not bother to find the specific vampire. Going outside to where his son stood waiting, LaCroix' eyes shifted to the torn fabric of Nick's jacket arm. When the other didn't acknowledge his presence, he teasingly told Nick, "I see you'll need some new clothes before we head back." Nick calmed and glanced to his torn sleeve, twisting his arm a bit. The fabric of both his jacket and shirt were slightly stained with his blood where the second dog had bit him and hung on. "Come, Nicholas. At this rate the night will be half-over before we return to your mortal friend's home." LaCroix left, heading toward the city. Nick stayed firmly on the ground, not even reacting to the other's departure. Despite what he had done, he felt oddly calm. He knew it was mainly from having truly fed, for the first time in weeks. But would he feel the same when Schanke asked what they had done that night? And if Schanke noticed he was stronger, what reason would he give? He couldn't say anything. It was better for Schanke to suspect whatever he wanted than be told what he and LaCroix actually did. But first thing was first--he did need new clothes. And not just because of the dogs. He needed new, clean clothes for taping the questions and answers. Instinctively stiffening, Nick headed to catch up with LaCroix. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Sitting at the Schankes' dining table well past midnight, the rest of the house silent, Nick flipped through the pages of questions without really looking at them. He couldn't focus when he knew LaCroix would be arriving any moment. And they hadn't yet discussed which questions they would choose, not even a way to narrow them down. Right now, everything was just blurring together, the word 'vampire' the only thing that seemed to stick in his thoughts. "Nicholas?" Nick snapped his attention up to LaCroix, but then slowly started to relax. "You took your time," Nick mentioned, looking back down at the sheets of paper, shuffling them slightly. "I had to ensure little attention would be drawn." Watching the other stiffen, LaCroix continued, "It took time to find a target. Stray dogs are not to my taste, but it'll make up for your...enthusiasm earlier." Nick didn't look up, merely staring more intently at the pieces of paper. "You seem preoccupied." Leaning back, Nick let out a breath. "Remember when you woke and I told you we might have a problem?" Only pausing until he saw a faint nod from LaCroix, Nick said, "The news yesterday morning had a photo of Aristotle and Holly. No names, just the photo and where they were seen. And they knew we were in Los Angeles working with others. Contacting Aristotle isn't an option. And Nate and Emily--" "If Aristotle is being traced, then they are either already discovered or will be." "Exactly. Which means we can't meet with Nate as planned. We could end up walking into a trap." Pushing the rough pile across the table toward LaCroix, Nick told him, "I guess first we should narrow this down." LaCroix nodded. "An alternate plan can wait until morning, after the news." Sitting at the table, LaCroix pulled the top-most paper closer. "I see you've already started." "I...crossed a few of the questions out." Scanning the pages, LaCroix read off a few of the scribbled out questions, "'Did you kill Dr. Lambert? When was the last time you killed? Are vampires real?' Hmm. Yes, I see they didn't quite listen, did they?" LaCroix put the sheets down, muttering, "Are vampires real?" He lightly laughed. "Really...." Nick pulled several of the pages back, and he and LaCroix worked on narrowing down the number of questions. Given that over half of the pages had more than a dozen curiosities--most of which hadn't yet been crossed out--they had more than enough to choose from. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Come morning, Nick and LaCroix had done little more than scribble in the margins short opinions--either 'yes', 'no', 'maybe', or a close variation. Few questions had been given an instant 'yes'. Eventually, Nick dropped his pen on the table, pushed his chair back, and stood up. "This isn't working, LaCroix. Too many are hitting in the middle." "Several are repeated...." "Yes, but we've already added most of those in. And while we're close to three from each, if we leave it at three we'll be seen as having a bias." "Isn't that the point?" LaCroix snapped, his waning patience showing. "Yes, it's the point. But we need to be as unbiased as possible. We need to contrast with what's been said about us without lying or watering it down. We need to come across as sincerely attempting to answer, and not avoiding any topics." "We're not avoid-" "Yes we are. Look at the sheets. Look at the lower ranked questions. Namely anything that hasn't been starred for inclusion." Not seeing the point, LaCroix merely glanced at the sheets, absently noting, "Most of the questions one of us has marked off as being unsuitable." "Look at them, LaCroix. You're knocking off any questions that elaborate any kind of weakness and I'm avoiding questions that I don't want to answer. We are being unintentionally biased. While it doesn't seem biased to us, it will to the mortals." Nick leaned forward, gathering up the papers and putting them in a neat stack in the centre of the table. "I'm going to ask Schanke if he'd mind helping a bit." "Unbiased indeed...." "He's mortal. He probably has a better gauge of what questions are best to answer; which ones need to be answered regardless of our preference." Nick turned and headed out of the dining area. "You plan to ask him about facilitating the rest of this." Nick stopped. Glancing back, just for a second, he replied, "Perhaps," and then walked out of sight. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "I've never much liked Enforcers," Aristotle began, making a beeline for a younger-looking vampire a good head taller than he. Two others glared at him, but stayed out of his way when the other motioned for them not to interfere. "And while you seem to be overall incompetent when it comes to the present situation, you have--" "You will reveal our location by coming here!" "The mortals have not followed me! I have taken great care in that regard." "You and Nicholas have done more than enough damage." "Damage? It's the mortals that are doing the damage. And you're just letting them." Aristotle circled the other, watching his nervousness just barely surface. "LaCroix was right. Your numbers are dwindling as the mortals hunt you." "How did you find us?" "By tailing the Enforcer you had following us! I wouldn't be surprised if they were the one that tipped us off to the mortals. He apparently lost track of me after this morning's incident and decided to return here." Aristotle glanced at one of the others--specifically the man he had followed--but only for a moment. "Fine," hissed the vampire Aristotle had initially addressed. "What do you want from us?" "I want to know where Nicholas and LaCroix are. Did they make it safely to Toronto? Do you have someone following them as well?" The Enforcer broke Aristotle's gaze, turning to one of the others. "Tell him what he wants to know." Then, once again meeting Aristotle's eyes with a golden glare, he added, "And then you will leave." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Arriving home, Schanke glanced at Nick, who was sitting on the couch with his head leaned back. The television was on, although he could barely hear what was being said. Seeing Myra across the room, motioning silently to the kitchen, he gave another look to Nick and then followed. Once in the kitchen, Schanke asked, "What's with Nick? And where's LaCroix?" "Well, I think part of it is the news." "News? What happened?" "You know how yesterday they announced they were looking for those two?" "Yeah, they wanted to find them. And those that helped Nick with this." "They followed the two to Florida. They found the girl alone, and they killed her. And now they're looking for the man and two others." Schanke's eyes widened. The two others, he knew, would be the two who Nick was going to meet with. "LaCroix mentioned the 'situation worsening.' I...overheard them arguing earlier. Their voices were hushed, but it was clear they didn't agree on something." "Their plan has been completely shot down," Schanke answered in a whisper. "I'll go talk to Nick, see what's up," he told Myra, turning around only to turn back when Myra touched his arm. "Nick and LaCroix had gone out not long after you left. While I have told Jenny they're here, they haven't run into each other yet." Schanke nodded and headed back to the other room, slowing as he approached the couch. Nick hadn't moved from earlier. Was he asleep or was he awake? "Nick?" "Myra told you," Nick said, his voice soft. Sitting up, he stated, "Holly's been killed and Nate and Emily--the two we were to meet with- -have been traced to Texas, where we planned to leave for." "Well, I guess you know it's going to change things now." "Yeah." Nick hit the power button on the remote, turning the television off. Leaning forward, Nick placed the remote on the table and picked up the pages of questions. "I have a favour to ask," Nick started, and then explained the difficulty with the questions. When Schanke didn't answer, Nick held the questions out, telling him, "You certainly don't have to help. You can refuse right now, and LaCroix and I will leave tonight." "No, no, I don't mind helping. I'm just a bit surprised." Schanke snatched the papers before Nick could pull them back. Glancing at the top page, which contained several crossed out questions and short notes in the margin, Schanke asked, "So, what do I need to do?" Reading the top question, which had been crossed through more than once from the look of it, Schanke asked, "Why is 'Are vampires real?' crossed out? I mean, what has the IVEA done to show that you guys are real? And what about 'Do vampires suffer from mental illnesses, for example depression, anxiety,' er..." Schanke paused, tilting his head a little to see the words hiding under the slice of ink now residing over them, then finished, "'delusions, hallucinations, schizophrenia, etc.?' That's a pretty good question, isn't it?" "I believe LaCroix crossed those out," Nick stated, although technically they had both disagreed with the firs. He faintly smiled, realising this was going to take a while. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Shortly before noon, the Schankes' phone rang. Myra had left to run several errands and Jenny answered the phone before Schanke had managed to stand up. "Hello?" "I'd like to speak to a Detective Schanke?" "Dad.... Phone," Jenny said, setting the receiver down and taking several steps back, but not leaving the room. Schanke was already on the way, and picked up the phone. "Hello?" he asked, slightly distracted when Nick stood. "Is this Detective Schanke?" "Ah, yeah." "Is Nicholas there?" Schanke tensed at the question, becoming suspicious. "Who is this?" "I don't know what Nick has told you, but just listen. Nathaniel and Emily have been killed." "Er, who are you?" "My name is Aristotle. I don't know if Nick would have mentioned me or not." Schanke simultaneously stiffened and calmed. "Ah, do you want to talk to Nick? He's--" "No. The rest of what I have to say is for you. If Nicholas has not yet asked for your help or you are hesitant, I ask you to consider helping him. Nicholas and LaCroix have not been traced and your family will be in no danger. Two of us are watching your house, discretely, and another has been watching your partner for the last several weeks. I will arrive in Toronto in three days' time." Schanke was about to reply with a question when the other hung up, leaving him listening to the dial tone. He put the phone back down and turned to Nick, who had gone ashen, his eyes closed. "Nick?" Jenny slowly inched closer, wondering what had happened and who had called. She jumped upon feeling a hand rest on her shoulder and pull her back. When she looked up and saw LaCroix, she gasped, stepping back, only to find she couldn't as LaCroix still had her firmly by the shoulder. After giving the girl a glare and small shake of his head, LaCroix turned his gaze to Nick. And then, as he had only heard the very last part of the conversation, only waking upon feeling strong anger from his son, LaCroix asked Schanke, "What did Aristotle tell you?" "Ah, well," Schanke fumbled, his attention drifting between the two vampires, his daughter's faint trembling, and then what he'd just been told. "Jenny, go back to your room." "But--" "Why not let her stay?" LaCroix asked. Then, glancing toward Jenny, he let his eyes glow faintly golden. "Given her curiosity, I suspect she'll listen in on the conversation, whatever the case." Jenny stiffened, trying to shrink back, which LaCroix let her do. But she didn't leave--merely backed away. Giving a glance to Jenny, Schanke finally answered LaCroix, telling him, "Nathaniel and Emily were killed." Ever so slightly, LaCroix tensed. Now he understood his son's emotions. He even agreed with them. But, for now at least, there was nothing either of them could do other than to continue their plan. "It will end, Nicholas. You know how history goes...." "This is not the Inquisition! This time it is not just lucky, fanatical mortals that happened upon us. These mortals are hunting us and they seem to know exactly how." "They are fanatics all the same." Turning away from Nick, LaCroix further asked the mortal, "What else did he say?" Schanke, a bit taken aback by Nick's short tirade, took several seconds to answer LaCroix, telling him, "Nothing that was directed at you or Nick. Well, other than that he would be here in three days, or nights...whatever it was." "The rest was Aristotle appealing to Schanke to help us," Nick stated. Then, he faced away from the others, walking over to the edge of the window, carefully looking outside. "Schanke, only help if you truly want to. I do believe Aristotle is correct in that you and your family are in no danger by aiding us." "What kind of help do you need?" Turning back, Nick answered, "We need to stay, at least until Aristotle arrives. And we'll have to record the tape here." "We have a video camera, if you need it?" Getting a nod, Schanke told them, "I'll pull it out tonight." Then, suppressing a yawn, he asked, "So, now what? We still have those last few--" "I'll finish that, Schanke. It's late and you need sleep for work, right?" "Yeah, yeah, I work tonight." Nick leaned over and picked up the pages, each of which now had even more short comments and crossed out questions and/or comments than before. "Seriously, the biggest thing you can do to help is to let us stay a few more days." "Yeah, I get it," Schanke said, nodding. "And I guess that includes not changing anything that might alert others to your presence. Which means that while showing up to work tired wouldn't be a first, it wouldn't be useful." Nick forced a faint smile, then took the papers and headed toward the spare bedroom. Passing LaCroix, he gave a glance to the other vampire and paused until LaCroix turned away from the mortals to follow him. Downward Spiral - (17/27) "My mom said you needed some paper," Jenny cautiously said, walking up to Nick with several sheets of paper in hand. Nick looked up and, when Jenny held the sheets out to him, he took them. "Thanks." Jenny then watched as Nick copied a line off another sheet. "So, what are you doing?" she asked, trying to get a glance of the writing on the papers, but Nick pulled them closer. "Right now? Writing out replies," Nick told her, starting to answer the first question. Jenny glanced toward the television, which was on with the volume muted. She glanced away after seeing the same faces she had seen earlier, before her dad left for work. "How old were they? The three on the news? Nothing's been said about them, other than what happened." "Fairly young." "How young?" "All less than a hundred." When it was clear Jenny wanted more, he thought, recalling what Aristotle had said, and told her, "The older woman was 90, the man 53, and the girl 19." Jenny's eyes widened. "Nineteen? Is that how long she was a vampire?" "No. That's how old she was. She hadn't been a vampire long. Not even a year." "Can I ask something? Maybe it's a stupid question, but...." Nick put down his pen, completely stopping what he was doing. He saw Myra approach, probably wondering why Jenny was still there. "Did you want this? I mean, did you know you were going to be a vampire? Did you get the choice, knowing exactly--" "No," Nick quickly answered, then paused before explaining, "No, I didn't know, not precisely. I had...suspicions when I met LaCroix, when I had the choice, but I had little time to realise exactly what he was or what I would become, or what the consequences would be. I didn't know exactly what I was agreeing to." "Then why?" "Jenny, I think we should let Nick work," Myra abruptly interrupted, starting forward. "No, it's okay. I don't mind answering." Nick directed a partial smile toward Myra, although quickly looked away from them both. "Temptation. The promise of immortality." "Would you have refused, if you knew you'd become a vampire?" Nick's eyes fell to the table in front of him, thinking. "No," he simply answered. "Glad to hear that, Nicholas," LaCroix voiced, causing Jenny to jump slightly and Myra to stiffen. Nick merely looked up and over to LaCroix, not replying. "Come, Jenny," said Myra, watching as Jenny hesitated a moment before following her into the kitchen. Once alone, LaCroix approached the couch, still pleased. "Curious, isn't she?" "I don't mind." LaCroix scoffed. "You mind, Nicholas. I heard it in the hesitation of your answers." Sitting next to Nick, he picked up one of the sheets, noticing many changes had been made from when he and Nicholas had worked on it the night before. "I see the questions have been narrowed down." "Schanke helped with that." Nick split the paper Jenny had brought into two smaller stacks and passed one to LaCroix, next pushing a sheet of the questions toward him. "Nicholas, I--" Nick glared at LaCroix, telling him, "Do you really want to watch me do this all night?" LaCroix resisted the urge to tease the other with a 'maybe' and merely lightly smiled. "Very well. Now, let's see...." LaCroix started, finding the first question on the page that was to be answered. "'Do vampires live productive lives?' Well, I suppose that depends--" LaCroix began, mockingly, but stopped the instant the paper was snatched out of his hands. "You don't have to help." LaCroix seized the sheet, his eyes ever so faintly glowing. Nick met the other's gaze for a second, but eventually looked away. "Fine," Nick snapped, picking up his pen and starting where he left off earlier. The hostility made LaCroix pause a moment before he picked up the spare pen on the table, the blank paper, and a large, hardcover cookbook that sat under several of the sheets. Moving to a nearby recliner, LaCroix leaned back and cast a glance toward Nick, who seemed oddly uncomfortable, as if nervous. It was something that he had noticed in Nick since they arrived there, and it was not passing. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. That morning, as Schanke came home and discovered his home silent, he wondered for a second if Nick and LaCroix had perhaps left. And then he saw all of the pages on the coffee table, this time with answers neatly written out. Approaching, he sat on the couch and pulled one of the pages closer, faintly surprised that the writing wasn't Nick's. Curious, he started reading at the top of the page: "Do vampires live productive lives? Most of us do, although it varies by the individual and what one considers 'productive'. We make use of our time and many of us contribute to mortal society in the process. We occupy our lives much as mortals do with hobbies and interests. Most of us have jobs or own property; as such we pay taxes." Schanke paused a second, before reading the second paragraph: "Do vampires regularly kill for blood, as has been suggested? Not regularly, nor do we need to kill for it. We generally drink bottled blood, most of which is freely donated." Schanke would have continued, but he stopped mid-paragraph when he saw movement across the room. Looking up, he saw Nick slowly approaching, dishevelled and half-awake. "Nick? You look like you should be asleep." "I was." "But?" "But now I'm not." Nick walked up to the table and picked several sheets up, glancing at each one to put them in order. "I think we might as well get this done with." "So, LaCroix...?" "Yeah, he's awake." Schanke watched Nick turn and head back toward the hall. "What do you want me to do?" Pausing and looking back, Nick replied, "Other than to get the video camera, nothing." "Nick, I can--" "I don't want you involved in this any more than you already are." Nick didn't give the other a chance to respond, continuing on his path back to the spare room. Schanke stayed put for over a minute before he finally stood and went to get the video camera, a new tape, and the extra battery. He hesitated a moment before taking them to Nick, pausing once again at the shut door before knocking. When he got no response after two attempts at getting Nick's attention, Schanke turned the knob and pushed the door open. "Nick?" he said, cautiously entering. "I've got--" Schanke started, but he then tensed as LaCroix practically appeared right in front of him. Doing what he could to ignore the vampire, Schanke took another step into the room and spotted Nick sitting on the bed, buttoning up what looked like a new shirt. "I have the camera here," he said, just as LaCroix held out a hand for it. Nick didn't move, and Schanke felt like the room just got smaller. Or maybe LaCroix just got closer? With a slight delay upon realising Nick didn't want to talk, Schanke addressed LaCroix, telling him, "And, ah, here's an extra battery and a new tape. I think there's another unused tape somewhere. If you need it, just ask. And we have blank VHS tapes, too." LaCroix waited for the mortal to leave, his patience quickly fading. "Is there something else?" "No. No, I guess not." Schanke looked to Nick, who quickly turned his gaze away and to the ground. Primarily to Nick, Schanke mentioned, "If you need anything else, just ask." Then, with a glance to LaCroix, he left the two vampires to set up however they wanted. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick read through a piece of paper--written mere moments before. About the time they realised a tripod would be useful, he had realised they also didn't have an introduction. While LaCroix didn't think it was needed, Nick knew they should say something. Writing an introduction had given LaCroix time to take a shower, and then, since he still hadn't finished writing, it meant LaCroix was the one that had to ask if Schanke had a tripod. Hearing LaCroix enter the room, Nick looked up to find LaCroix carrying a tripod. Nearly speaking, he hesitated upon seeing Schanke following, bringing a chair from the kitchen. "Where do you want this?" Schanke asked. Then, seeing that one of the pictures hanging along one wall had been taken down, leaving a nearly blank background, he started in that direction and asked, "Over here?" Looking to Nick and seeing the other nod, he sat the chair down and then turned back toward Nick and LaCroix. To the latter, who seemed ill at ease holding the tripod, Schanke asked, "You want me to set that thing up?" and immediately started forward. LaCroix stiffened, but allowed the mortal to take the tripod. While he didn't particularly like Schanke's enthusiasm, he was far more interested in seeing what Nick had written than setting the tripod up. However, when he tried to see the paper, Nick moved it and the others out of his reach. "Nicholas--" "You didn't want any kind of introduction, and I doubt you'd want to read it for the recording." Nick tucked in his shirt and stood, walking over to the chair. LaCroix waited as Schanke set the camera up as well, wanting to get the mortal out of the room as soon as possible. Turning the camera on, Schanke caught a glare from LaCroix, which made him take a step back and mutter, "It should be ready." LaCroix stood still, waiting for the other to leave. But Schanke made no move to budge. "I don't think we'll need any...help." "I'd like to stay, if that's all right?" Seeing LaCroix' disapproval, Schanke turned to Nick only to see the same expression. "I'll be completely silent. Won't say a thing. Won't interrupt. No questions. You won't know I'm here. Nada. Nothing. I--" "Schanke...." Nick started, watching the other's motions freeze solid. "You can stay, but only by the door." Schanke relaxed, nodding. "You need to be out of both mine and the camera's sight. I don't want this somehow traced back to you." "So...." "If you stand just behind the door, I think you'll be okay," Nick told Schanke, managing a smile. "But you must be silent." Once Schanke nodded and moved out of sight, Nick looked to LaCroix and nodded. LaCroix fiddled with the camera, turned it to the right, and then zoomed in on Nick slightly to get the other centred. When Nick stared fully into the camera, LaCroix hit record. "First, you might be wondering why we--vampires--have taken as long as we have to respond. We are real; we live and yes, we do die. Imagine being hunted for every waking moment with the threat of death looming over everything you hold dear. To show ourselves is suicide, especially as we are being killed simply for what we are." Nick glanced down, just for a second, and then continued, "The questions I will answer were gathered from everyday people, from, as you have by now heard, the employees of a news station in Detroit, Michigan. And I'll say right now that the answers you hear will be truthful." Pausing, Nick slid the first page away, took a quick look at the first question and said, "First question: Do you really have glowing eyes and fangs?" Leaving a couple of seconds of silence, Nick answered, "Not usually. Right now, no." Nick closed his eyes, his head slightly bowed, then looked into the camera with golden eyes and said with a slight hiss, "But we can and do change." Closing his eyes for another moment, when Nick again looked at the camera all signs of being a vampire had faded. "Unless you threaten us with crosses, garlic, stakes or otherwise anger us, you have little to fear." "The next question asks: Are the characteristics that the IVEA have mentioned accurate? Is there more? And the answer is yes; our abilities and weaknesses have been described well. And no, there isn't more. We can fly and we have the ability to bend the will of mortals. Garlic, holy water, and crosses do harm us. The degree of the affect varies depending on the situation." Nick glanced down to the sheet, skipping over a crossed-out portion of the paper, which only added to his hesitation upon seeing the question. He knew there wasn't a good answer for this one. "And mirrors? Vampires cannot be fully defined by science. I can say that I have both seen and not seen my reflection. It might be similar for others, and it might not." Switching to another page, one LaCroix had written out answers for, Nick read, "Do vampires suffer from mental illnesses?" Then, he froze. He knew LaCroix hadn't liked that question before, likely because many vampires would be considered, in some manner or another, psychologically unstable. "Probably," Nick eventually spoke, then his words stumbled over, "But vampires are different than mortals." Nick flat-out stopped, his eyes leaving the camera. "This isn't an answer." Addressing LaCroix, Nick commented, "A mortal psychiatrist would label us mad, LaCroix." Almost lazily, LaCroix stopped the recording. "What was I supposed to write? That question--" "Could have been answered with something better than, 'But vampires are different than mortals.' Besides, we're not that different." Schanke shifted uncomfortably, feeling out of place listening in on an argument between the two men. Stepping into the room when the two stopped talking, he quietly remarked, "I guess I should go." Nick turned toward Schanke, but didn't respond. Glancing between Nick and LaCroix, Schanke left the room, pulling the door shut behind him. LaCroix watched as Nick pulled a pen out of his pocket and wrote on the paper, seemingly unaffected by Schanke's departure. In fact, the other seemed more relaxed. "Perhaps we should do this later," LaCroix suggested. "No. No, we might as well get this done with." "Perhaps to leave here sooner?" Nick looked up, answering, "Yes." "You genuinely only wanted to come here because it was the safest place." LaCroix waited, expecting the other to either refute the statement or otherwise answer, but Nick stayed silent. "I'm surprised." Again, he received no comment. "Nicholas--" "I didn't want to involve Schanke again," Nick hissed. "Nor did I truly want to return to Toronto so soon, considering." "Natalie," LaCroix whispered, watching Nick tense at the name. "I don't want anyone else harmed because of me, LaCroix. I want this tape recorded before Aristotle gets here so we can leave immediately." "And if he gets here at or after dawn?" "We leave." Nick turned away. "With the others being found, it's too dangerous to stay here any longer than necessary. We make the recording, make copies, and then as soon as Aristotle gets here we split up." LaCroix silently nodded and rewound the tape to the beginning, at which he made eye contact with Nick. Forcing himself to relax, Nick shifted and focused back on the camera. "Again, LaCroix." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Late that night after Schanke had gone to work and Jenny to bed, Myra watched as Nick paced in the living room. She had already asked multiple times if either he or LaCroix wanted anything, and every time the offer had been turned down. Nick was getting impatient, and she could see that LaCroix was either becoming agitated by it or he, too, was also losing patience. Myra headed into the kitchen and to the refrigerator to get a glass of milk, only to jump upon hearing a knock against the back door. She paused a second, her hand on the refrigerator door, then went to the back door, but hesitated. "Open it," Nick said, approaching. "It's one of us." Myra tensed slightly knowing that a vampire stood waiting, but she did open the door. After all, neither Nick nor LaCroix had done nothing to harm them and if Nick knew who was there.... She stepped back upon revealing a middle-aged, balding, glasses-wearing man. She immediately recognised him as the other vampire the IVEA were looking for, but seeing him in person was much different. To her, he didn't look at all like a vampire. Aristotle gave a very slight nod to the mortal woman, then entered, bypassing her and going to Nick. "I apologise for being a bit early. I hadn't planned on coming until tomorrow night, but--" "That's fine. We've had enough time." Surprised, Aristotle asked, "You have everything done? Recording done, copies made?" "Yes. And we're ready to leave." Aristotle opened his mouth to speak, but Nick had already turned and left, going down the hall. When LaCroix came into the kitchen a moment later, he asked, "Is Nicholas all right? I know he agreed to do this somewhat reluctantly." "Nicholas is fine. He does, however, wish to get the tapes delivered." Nodding, Aristotle agreed, "Yes, until the mortals see the tape and hopefully form a favourable reaction, we are no better off." Nick returned with his and LaCroix' things and six copies of the tape. He handed two of the tapes to Aristotle and all but his jacket to LaCroix. Glancing to Myra, he pulled on his jacket and pulled out several large bills, placing it on the kitchen counter. "It's not all Canadian, but it should cover the lock and the time we've inconvenienced you." Nick then took his things and two of the tapes from LaCroix, not meeting Myra's gaze. "Nick--" Myra started, but Nick had already walked to the door and pulled it open. He was gone before she could get out another word. Aristotle gave the mortal another nod and then he, too, left. LaCroix remained a moment and told Myra, "Nicholas will not accept the money back. If you don't wish to accept it for allowing us to stay here, perhaps take something to Natalie's grave? I believe he would...appreciate that." He turned and walked toward the door. "Will either of you be back?" Pausing for a moment, LaCroix answered, "No," and then left. Downward Spiral - (18/27) Nearly thirty-six hours after leaving Schanke's, Nick and LaCroix met in Baltimore, Maryland. They had each delivered two tapes to different cities during the night. Aristotle had, as they departed from Schanke's, mentioned he planned to keep out of sight until things had calmed and wouldn't be meeting them. Nick had arrived at the hotel several hours after LaCroix and entered the room only to find the other taking a shower. Slowly, Nick walked over to where LaCroix had set down the bag containing his extra clothes, only to spot the television remote upside down on the centre of the bed. Clearly, LaCroix had already checked the news. Hesitating, Nick picked the remote up and hit the power button. First, it popped up on the generic hotel information screen, but after nudging the channel up a couple times he came to a news report. It was different than previous newscasts in that both a third party recording was being shown--the one he and LaCroix had made--but that it was apparently a recording itself, from another news channel. "--vampires enjoy killing? In some ways, yes. Killing, hunting in a way, was first and foremost a necessity. It is instinctual, and yes, can be rather enjoyable. However, as has been said it is no longer necessary to kill. And even when necessary, other emotions generally accompany any pleasure we might get from the action." Nick involuntarily cringed back, wondering just how all of this would be taken, but slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. "Can't vampires just drink animal blood? Do some? It is possible to survive off of the blood of animals, much as a mortal could probably live off of canned cat food. Few vampires will drink animal's blood unless necessary as it is not pleasant to drink, and it is neither what we want nor need. Even those that attempt it often cannot avoid occasionally drinking human blood, and most don't try again. There are some vampires that do live entirely off animal blood with no desire for human blood, but you are unlikely to ever have a conversation with them or meet one." After a short pause, the Nick on the screen smiled somewhat wistfully as he said, "Can vampires eat or drink anything other than blood? A small amount of water or alcohol is usually drinkable, but any other food or drink is nearly impossible to eat, even if forced. Water is unnecessary to us, and is rarely drunk. Alcohol has a similar although greatly dimmed effect on vampires as it does on mortals, and most of us avoid it except on rare occasions, and then it is usually mixed with blood." The faint half-smile returning, he continued, "And, finally; have you ever met anyone famous? The answer, at least for myself, is yes. Did I know they'd become as known as they are now? No. Perhaps recognised uniqueness, but never realised the full implications. Many of us have touched history, either people or events; but rarely do we dare take part." Another pause, and Nick's gaze became more serious. "We ask only that you form your own opinions of us, not from myth or an outside source, but from who we are. Don't kill us for what we are." The interview ended and the news switched back to the anchor, who spoke, "While the interview was somewhat unexpected, it paints a more complete, overall view of vampires. The IVEA has yet to give a reaction to the taped interview. The IVEA is also declining questions from the FBI and other federal agencies; however, less than an hour ago the FBI and Interpol demanded access to IVEA files and a suspension has been put in place on all IVEA actions." "Good, yes?" LaCroix said, entering the room fresh from his shower. Nick glanced toward LaCroix and then flipped the television off, saying, "If it lasts." "Uncertainty, Nicholas?" Nick shook his head, snapping, "It's been mere hours, LaCroix! That's all the time they've had to react. It's too soon to know what, exactly, is happening or will happen." For a moment, LaCroix merely stood in place. After a few seconds, however, he nodded, telling the other, "Yes, we will have to wait." Then, with a slight smirk he added, "But waiting can be fun, yes?" Nick absently nodded as LaCroix turned and went back into the bathroom. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "All operations of the IVEA are still suspended. The FBI and Interpol are deepening their investigation into IVEA records, and several IVEA agents are being detained for questioning. When asked why, the only response was that the increased involvement was due to receiving more information from an undisclosed source. No answer was given when asked if this source was from within their organisation or an outside informant, nor was an answer given when asked if they had been somehow contacted by a vampire, or--" LaCroix flipped the television off. Glancing to Nick, who sat at a table by the room's window, he watched the other turn away. "You know something about this. They did get the information from one of us." Standing and approaching Nick, LaCroix sensed that he was right. "What information did they get?" "Names and locations." LaCroix' eyes glowed golden. "Nicholas--" "Aristotle sent it. It's not a complete list of those that have died, but it is far more complete than what any mortals outside the IVEA are aware of." "And what difference would that make?" "It also contains the names of mortals that have died in the process." "The lists Janette told me about." "Yes." "Dangerous in the hands of a mortal." "How, LaCroix? Those of us that are still alive are alive because we haven't been traced. I'm sure the IVEA is aware of all those that have died; it won't be new information to them." LaCroix looked away. His son was right in that they were in no more danger now than they were before. "It is nearly sunset," he quickly commented. "We must feed and then leave here." "I'm fine." "You are hungry; I can feel it." LaCroix smirked and then asked, "Would you rather merely feed from a mortal, or kill them as well? In a few days...." Nick stiffened but nodded, aware that if they waited they would indeed need to kill. Nodding, Nick reached across the table to his jacket and pulled it closer, his badge slipping out of a pocket. "Nicholas...." As soon as he had the jacket on, Nick snatched his badge off the table and put it back. "What else am I supposed to do?" "Leave it." "I've considered it..." Nick shook his head, finishing, "But no." Taking a step back, Nick pushed the drapes to the side for the last bits of daylight to slide by. "It's fine, and the sun has nearly set. If you want to leave, I suggest we get ready to do so." Nick released the thick fabric, letting it swing back over the window, and then he walked past LaCroix to gather his other set of clothes. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. [Early September, 1995] Nearly a month later, LaCroix flew after Nick, who had abruptly changed directions. As they landed in an alley, LaCroix hissed, "Nicholas!" "Shh, LaCroix," Nick said as he reached toward a door that wasn't quite closed. LaCroix reached out and grabbed Nick's arm, pulling the other back into a shadow as the door opened, letting several mortals out. Once they had left, LaCroix whispered, "This is dangerous. We are not in the mortals' favour, Nicholas. The IVEA may have been disbanded, but we both know that they're still hunting us, perhaps even more so." "All we need do is stay out of sight," Nick replied and then started for the door again, only to be held back. "LaCroix--" "We cannot risk hunting--" "This isn't about hunting" Nick hissed. "I'm just...I'm tired of hiding; tired of avoiding them. Even if we're seen, they can do nothing." LaCroix closed his eyes, nodding to himself. "For a few minutes, Nicholas," he said, releasing the younger. "You're not coming in?" "No. No, you'll be less likely noticed alone." LaCroix faintly smiled, then flew straight up to the roof. Nick remained in place, but darted out of sight as the door opened again, emitting another mortal. As it swung closed, Nick quickly snuck inside, slipping from shadow to shadow until he had a full view of the room: a dance club and bar, with what looked like an entrance opposite him. For nearly a quarter of an hour, he just watched them. He wished he could close his eyes, but he didn't dare in case someone spotted him. He could only watch. And while better than the boredom that was beginning to overcome both himself and LaCroix, Nick missed interacting with mortals and suspected that on some level LaCroix did as well. Suddenly Nick's focus lapsed as a man roughly brushed shoulders with him, and his eyes immediately locked with the young man's widening gaze. "You're--" "*I'm not who you think I am,*" Nick quickly intoned, keeping his voice even and friendly. "*You won't remember this.*" Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, the young man apologised for bumping into Nick and then left as if nothing had happened. Nick moved, stepping to the side until he was able to see the bar more easily. Almost instantly, his eyes locked on a young redheaded woman sitting at the bar drinking a martini. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place her. About to step closer, he instead took a step back as she looked his way. Nick watched her gaze pass over where he stood, and it hit him that he had seen her on the news. Specifically, in the days after Natalie had been killed, while he was at the Schankes'. She had worked for the IVEA, and her manner told him she was still hunting his kind. He closed his eyes to hide their golden hue, opening them when he heard a phone ring to find the woman answering her cell phone. Nick backed up, trying to disappear completely into a shadow, and listened. His anger latched onto only the most relevant information; specifically that she was, indeed, a hunter and that she was being called to Denver. Nick's gaze followed her as she tipped the bartender, stood, and then headed for the exit. Taking a couple glances, Nick took in a deep breath and headed out himself as discreetly as possible. As soon as he reached the street Nick started following her as she headed down the street, walking from shadow to shadow. Suddenly, Nick felt a hand on his shoulder: LaCroix. "I thought you said this wasn't about hunting, Nicholas...." "It wasn't," Nick said, glancing back toward the other for a second. Seeing Nick's eyes flash a bright gold, LaCroix asked, "But it is now, yes?" "Yes." Nick pulled free from LaCroix' grip, but took only a single step forward. "She's a hunter," Nick stated, and then flew up to the level of the surrounding building's roofs. LaCroix hesitated a moment before following Nick, and then they flew ahead of the woman to a small cross street. As the mortal turned a corner, Nick landed in her path, his eyes still golden. "You!" she said, clearly recognising Nick. "You are a vile and--" Landing behind the woman, LaCroix covered her mouth and whispered harshly into her ear, "And you have said enough." He flew up, taking the mortal with him. They left the street empty, and LaCroix flew the woman to a darker section of the city, landing on the roof of an unoccupied warehouse. Nick landed behind LaCroix, simply whispering, "Let go of her." LaCroix did so, taking a step to the side of the woman so that she could still see him from the side. "I want to know why," Nick hissed, slowly approaching the mortal. "Why do you have to ask? You are what you are. Cold-blooded killers; nothing more." "Why do you hunt us?" "The IVEA offered me a job and I took it." "The IVEA has been dismantled." "Officially." She smiled, adding, "But we aren't giving up." "But why?" "I've stated that; your kind are killers." Nick turned away, stating, "You blindly believed what they told you." "Not blindly." LaCroix breathed out, his patience waning. "Nicholas, this is useless." "No, it's not useless," Nick said, spinning back. Barring his fangs, he smiled faintly. "It means I won't care what happens to her." "Your kind don't care," the woman half-yelled, only for Nick to reach out and take her by the neck. Seeing the woman reach for her pocket, LaCroix stopped her. Inside the mortal's pocket, he found only a cell phone. While she had managed to turn it on, she had not made a call. "Foolish." Then, he watched her go for her other pocket. Before LaCroix reached her, she had stabbed Nick in the arm with a syringe, but he did manage to prevent her from injecting the liquid. "Even more so," he hissed, pulling the woman back. Nick removed the syringe, throwing it to the ground in anger. Again, Nick's hand snapped out toward her neck, but this time he forced her to step back as he spoke, "You're the one that doesn't care." Listening to her heart beat calmly despite her situation, his voice lowered and he slowly spoke, "You don't even care that you're about to die." When the woman merely smirked back at him, Nick roughly turned her in his grasp and sank his fangs into her neck. LaCroix watched with fascination and a hint of hunger. He nearly pulled the woman free of his son and took what remained of her blood, but knew his son needed and wanted this. He instead closed his eyes and waited, feeling Nick's pleasure at draining this mortal's life away. It pleased him greatly, as he felt no guilt from Nick, even as her heart stopped and his son eventually released her. LaCroix took a tentative step forward, knowing that they would now have to leave this city before sunrise. Not looking up to LaCroix, Nick said, "Go. I'll meet you in Sacramento." When LaCroix approached him, seemingly concerned, Nick repeated, "Go, LaCroix. I'll find you after I take care of this." Hearing the certain, even tone from the other, LaCroix nodded and left. Laying the woman on the roof, Nick reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his razor, flipping it open. He hesitated, almost putting the blade away as he knew it would do little good. Leaning over, he sliced the wounds, obscuring the puncture marks. Blood clung to the blade, just enough to make his anger flare a bit more as he licked the metal clean before putting it back in his pocket. Still, his primary emotion was hatred, although he now felt a growing hint of satisfaction. Nick found the syringe cap in the woman's jacket and, picking up the syringe recapped it. Then, putting the syringe in the pocket that had his razor in it, he picked the woman up and flew off to get rid of her body. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "I was beginning to worry," LaCroix said that morning as Nick arrived at the empty house he had picked out for the day. "Are you certain this house is uninhabited?" "You did see the sale sign out front, yes? And notice the lack of furniture?" "And the lack of drapes and blinds?" Nick mentioned, nodding to the sheer curtains. "One of the back rooms has adequate window coverings." Pausing, LaCroix asked, "You took your time getting here, Nicholas." "And?" Nick asked, turning back. LaCroix inwardly flinched, feeling that his son knew exactly why he was asking. "You have not been yourself lately." "You don't know me, LaCroix. You never have." "You've killed more in the past few weeks than you have in decades," LaCroix hissed. "You don't care." At that, LaCroix flew at Nick and shoved him toward the corner only for Nick to use his own momentum to switch places with him. Slamming into the corner, LaCroix snarled out of instinct. Trying again, this time LaCroix managed to pin Nick against a wall just long enough to calmly state, "Apparently I know you better than you know me." Nick shrugged away from LaCroix just as the other's grip loosened, purposely averting his gaze. "Nicholas--" "I'm not coming back to you, if that's what you think is happening. Frankly, I'm not sure how I feel about tonight." "I have yet to feel any...guilt from you," LaCroix carefully prodded. "I'm a bit surprised." "So am I." Nick started away, but felt LaCroix' hand on his arm. "LaCroix, I--" "We should rest." LaCroix gently pulled Nick toward the hall, but the other didn't move. Taking a step back, Nick walked over to the window, looking through the sheer fabric to the brightening morning sky. As soon as the sun rose mere minutes later, Nick first stood out of the way of the near- direct sunlight, and then turned and headed down the hall to LaCroix, dreading what the other would say. Watching Nick glance into one of the other rooms, LaCroix commented, "The woman is still occupying your thoughts." "No," Nick quickly stated, stopping as he turned to fully face LaCroix. "No? Surely she is the source of the hatred I feel?" "I've felt it for a long time, LaCroix." "Yes, but this hunter's blood has managed to release it. You feel better, yes?" Nick looked away, answering, "Yes." "Good," LaCroix said as he slowly approached Nick and gently urged the other forward with a hand on the younger man's back. "Perhaps we should hunt more of these hunters?" Looking to LaCroix, Nick simply answered, "Perhaps," and then allowed LaCroix to guide him forward. Nick halted just inside the door, however, commenting, "I'm tired of running." "If we hunt them, Nicholas, then--" "Then we will be running both after them and away from them. The last few weeks we've barely stayed anywhere long enough to do anything. We've slept in run-down hotels, old houses, barns...." "Hmm, yes. Perhaps later, then?" Not getting an answer, LaCroix suggested, "And perhaps we could--" "Let's just go to sleep, LaCroix." LaCroix reached out to Nick as he turned away, resting a hand on the younger man's shoulder just long enough to give his son a nod of agreement. Downward Spiral - (19/27) A week and a half and four moves later, Nick awoke in the middle of the day to a piercing feeling in his back. Instantly, he discovered that he had little control over his muscles. Being pulled easily back and off of the bed, he could see that LaCroix was in the same situation as he--disoriented and extremely weakened by whatever they had been given. LaCroix fought the two mortals that had grabbed him, but could neither shake them off nor even grasp the sheets on the bed as he was pulled back and onto the floor. He tried to fly free, but he could do nothing but let them pull him back to the wall where they held him in place. Unable to stand and feeling himself weaken further, LaCroix had no choice but unwillingly watch the others take his son. When Nick attempted to break free of the two men dragging him, he was forced to his knees and his head pulled back. When the man behind him then tried to force his mouth open, Nick tried to bite the man's hand but only managed a few drops of his blood as his fangs contacted skin. And then, after the faint distraction of the scent fresh blood, he felt a cool liquid flow into his mouth--blood. The blood wasn't fresh, and while still sweet he tasted a hint of bitterness. He tried to ignore the blood but, between instinct and need, he swallowed. Nick heard a mocking approval from the mortals along with LaCroix' barely coherent anger. He tried turning and got a glimpse of LaCroix as a metal rod stabbed through LaCroix' shoulder and into the wall behind him before his head was forced back. Nearly choking on the blood, Nick felt his surroundings dulling. He felt sick, a dull ache coming from his stomach. And then, in a panic, the mortals left, at which Nick saw flashing lights outside the hotel room's window. He fell to his hands and knees, head drooping down, drops of blood dripping to the carpet. They had to get out, but he couldn't stand up let alone free LaCroix. He couldn't even lick away the blood that clung to his lips or swallow what remained in his mouth. "Nicholas?" LaCroix spoke, watching as the other shook slightly. Before he could say anything more, however, several mortals entered the room. Two were uniformed police and the other two had their badges visible, clipped to their belts. All had their weapons drawn and had immediately aimed at them. One of the men nodded to the two uniformed officers, telling them, "Go, maybe we'll get lucky." LaCroix softly laughed as two of the mortals left. "They left a good minute before you got here." "We know; we have other officers in pursuit," the man spoke again, keeping his gun pointed at LaCroix. Although the vampire appeared to have been skewered with three feet of metal, the calmness of the other's statement kept him back. "I'm Detective Mark Bryant, Austin P.D., and this is my partner Sean Metzger." The second mortal, Metzger, cautiously stepped toward Nick during his partner's introduction, suspecting something was wrong. Nick scooted slowly away from the approaching mortal, half-crawling and half-dragging himself back. Eventually, he fell to the floor to lie on his side, his energy depleted. Seeing Nick's weakness, Metzger lowered his weapon and turned toward LaCroix. "What happened in here? What happened to him?" "First, free me." Metzger stiffened, but getting a hesitant nod from his partner, approached LaCroix. He gripped the metal rod, pausing several seconds, even regripping the rod before yanking it out of the wall. He had expected a scream, but the vampire made no noise. Metzger dropped the rod and then reached forward toward LaCroix, but backed off when LaCroix growled at him. He returned his attention to Nick, who was just barely consciousness. "Now, what happened?" Bryant demanded, keeping his gun aimed on LaCroix. Metzger went back to Nick and knelt. He was surprised when the vampire simply lay still, eyes open, staring at him. When Nick's eyes slid shut, he reached forward and touched him on the arm, but he got no reaction. Shaking the other slightly, Metzger watched Nick's head fall to the side. "He's completely out." "What's wrong with him?" Bryant asked LaCroix, nodding toward the other vampire as his partner stood up. Between blood loss and the effects of the tranquilliser, LaCroix shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts. "Why would you care?" he hissed as he fell sideways, so that he was now sitting, leaning against the wall. In seconds, LaCroix felt consciousness fading, and he unwillingly closed his eyes. Bryant kept his gun trained on LaCroix until the vampire had slid fully to the floor. "Damn, this is all we need." The two officers returned to the room, at which Metzger told them, "Keep any onlookers away. Don't give even a hint at what's going on." Putting his gun away, Bryant turned toward his partner. "I'll call the Captain, let him know what happened and that we're going to need a van down here." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. LaCroix woke and quickly sat up, his eyes flashing golden at the mortal woman that had been leaning over him. The woman backed up, hand still clutching a stethoscope for a moment, and then she quickly lowered it, letting it hang around her neck. "I- -" "Back off, Diane," Bryant said, pulling the woman back by the shoulders. LaCroix glanced around the room and quickly determined that this was neither the hotel they had been staying at--nor a hotel at all. He shifted, so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Where am I?" "It's a safe-house." Stepping forward, Bryant then asked, "What happened before we arrived?" "Where is Nicholas?" "He's here. And if you tell Dr. Reed what happened, she can try to help him." LaCroix stood, his eyes darting to the door. Closing his eyes to focus more easily, he immediately sensed that Nick was still unconscious. Other than that, he felt nothing. Giving a glance to the woman, he told her, "In addition to the tranquilliser we were given, Nicholas was force-fed a fair amount of blood." He looked away and toward the door. "It was likely poisoned." "He didn't keep it down," Diane answered, stepping in front of the detective. "The poison--" "Is likely the culprit." "You know what he's been given?" Bryant asked. "No." "But you've seen its effects," Diane stated. "And felt." LaCroix headed toward the door, and when the detective got in his way, he hissed, "Now, take me to him." Diane walked around Bryant and to the door, pulling it open. "He's in the next room," she said, walking into the hall. LaCroix glared at the detective as he followed the doctor out of the room, past a nervous uniformed officer, and to the next room. He followed the woman inside, watching the other detective he had seen before stand in surprise. But his attention quickly turned to the bed, where Nick lay motionless and pale. "I honestly don't know much about your kind to tell how he is doing. Well, anything, really..." Diane started as she stood off to the side and watched the vampire pass. "I mean, I don't know what's normal for vampires. He's stable, but...." Approaching Nick, LaCroix leaned over the younger vampire, touching the back of his hand to Nick's face. "He is very weak," LaCroix whispered. "What can we--" "He needs blood," LaCroix interrupted. He reached into his pockets, but found they were empty. The mortals had apparently confiscated their belongings. Focusing on the mortal woman, he stated, "Get me a knife," as he turned back to Nick. Metzger approached, pulling out a pocketknife and handing it slowly to LaCroix. Taking it without a word, LaCroix sliced both Nick's palm and his own, causing the mortals to stiffen. Taking Nick's hand, their wounds met and LaCroix closed his eyes. Within seconds, however, he released the younger man's hand, lips parting slightly. Instead of giving his son blood, he was taking it. LaCroix looked at his hand, the wound visibly bleeding and already healing. Nick's hand, however, was neither healing nor was there even a hint of blood. "I cannot help him." "Why?" Diane demanded. "What's wrong with him?" LaCroix merely sent a golden glare at the mortal before turning and walking away, fighting the urge to pace. From where he stood in the doorway, Bryant quickly started forward and shoved LaCroix against the wall. "Answer her!" Immediately, LaCroix grabbed the mortal by the neck and spun them so that it was Bryant pinned to the wall. "I wouldn't do that again," LaCroix hissed, holding the other firmly in place, even as the detective's hands tried prying his hand away from his throat. Abruptly releasing the mortal, LaCroix turned to find two guns aimed at him--Metzger's and one of the officer's. "Tell her!" Bryant forced, stepping toward LaCroix. Diane darted forward, stepping between Metzger and LaCroix. LaCroix took advantage of the woman's foolish attempt to help him and, giving a glance to Nick, he left the room. There was nothing he could do for his son without blood. When Bryant started after LaCroix, she told him, "No, leave him." "Why, he just about killed me!" "But he didn't," Diane said, pointedly. Then she paused, explaining, "He's likely hungry, tired, and frustrated. Let me talk to him; alone, without any weapons pointed at him." She waited and, upon receiving a reluctant nod, left the room to find LaCroix. Glancing into the other bedroom, she found him standing near the window, glancing out. LaCroix turned as he listened to the hushed tones of Detective Bryant ordering the officer that had followed him into the room to leave. The detective left soon after, leaving only the mortal woman behind. He curiously watched as she closed the door, effectively shutting herself in the room with him. Holding her position even as LaCroix approached her, she extended her hand and introduced herself, "I'm Dr. Diane Reed." "I'm sure you know who I am." "Lucien LaCroix," she answered. When the other didn't take her hand, she retracted it, asking, "Do you prefer to go by Lucien or--" "LaCroix," he instantly replied. A bit uncomfortable at the tone, Diane asked, "So then, LaCroix, will you tell me what's happening to Brabant?" "Why should I say anything to you?" he asked, continuing forward. "I'm a doctor. I can try to help him." "A doctor. Does that mean you're another pathologist; or is your specialty paediatrics? Or perhaps psychiatry?" LaCroix sinisterly laughed as he came to a stop within reach of the woman, stating, "You have already admitted that you know nothing about vamp--" "My specialty is cardiac surgery. Sean is my brother-in-law and I sometimes do consultations for him and the other detectives. And while I am nowhere near an expert on vampires, I do think I can help." "Unless you have access to several litres of blood...." "I made a request before you woke up. As it's a situation that hasn't happened before, it turns out there's a fair bit of approval and paperwork involved." "In other words, no." Diane set her jaw. Why couldn't he just cooperate? Couldn't he tell that she was trying to help them? "If I have a reason that indicates immediate need, I'll get it. The request I put in was for both of you, as from what Bryant and Sean told me you two went through quite an ordeal this morning. But I can't do anything more until I know what happened and exactly what needs to be done. The more you can tell me the better." LaCroix turned back toward the window, shutting his eyes. "The objective of the poison seems to be to starve us." "How?" "Extreme nausea resulting in the inability to ingest blood and lack of hunger." "And vomiting." "Yes." "And he's still unconscious because...?" LaCroix turned, his voice becoming terse as he answered, "As I said, Nicholas is weak--from more than just the poison." Diane stiffened as she saw flecks of gold dancing in the vampire's eyes. Feeling his hunger and weakness rather acutely, LaCroix walked slowly and purposely toward a chair in the corner of the room and sat down, once again facing the mortal. Stepping toward LaCroix, Diane asked, "When was the last time each of you had any blood?" "It's been a week and a half for Nicholas." "And you?" Looking toward the draped window, LaCroix answered, "A week." Aware the times couldn't possibly be adequate, particularly given the blue tinge she had seen in Nick's skin, Diane asked, "That's not nearly often enough, is it?" LaCroix didn't reply as, from the question, he suspected she already had a good idea of his answer. "Will he recover?" Once again getting only silence, she tried again, "If he gets blood soon, will he recover?" LaCroix turned slowly back. "Likely." "How long until he wakes?" "Several hours, at least." LaCroix then leaned back and closed his eyes, intending to rest. Diane stepped forward, but took only the one step. He didn't want to speak to her, and he was undoubtedly tired. She left, only to find both Bryant and Metzger waiting in the hall. "So, what did he tell you?" Bryant immediately prodded. As she shut the door, she told them, "Well, I have a general idea of what's going on with Brabant now. Other than that, nothing new." "And?" "Like LaCroix said, he needs blood. I'll be back as soon as I can. I'm going to the hospital to see if I can speed things up and to get a few things. If Brabant comes to before I'm back, call me." Metzger stopped Diane from leaving, grabbing her wrist as she passed to get her attention. "And LaCroix?" "Let him rest; that goes for both of you," she said, turning toward Bryant for emphasis, then continued toward the front door. Downward Spiral - (20/27) Late that night, Detective Metzger started awake when the officer watching Nick shook him. "Brabant is...well, I guess he's awake." "You guess?" Metzger asked as he stood and focused his attention on the bed. Immediately, he saw that Nick had shifted slightly to his side, but otherwise the vampire looked the same--until he saw the golden glow of Nick's eyes staring calmly at him. "Get Dr. Reed," he said, walking forward, feeling as if he were in a trance. Nick bared his fangs, hissing at the mortal and turning more on his side, moving away. He felt ill, and having these mortals so close only made it worse. As two more mortals entered the room, Nick pulled back as one of them, a woman, walked straight at him. Diane walked up to the bed and sat on the edge, setting a bag down behind and beside her. "It's good to see you awake," she said as she inched closer, hoping the greeting would help calm him. Nick sat up and leaned against the headboard. "No," he simply said as she reached out toward him. Stopping her approach, Diane asked, "How do you feel?" Nick closed his eyes, attempting to relax. When he sensed one of the other mortals start forward, Nick opened his eyes only to find a gun was also being raised toward him. Instinct took over, at which he grabbed the woman and pulled her in front of him. The other three mortals then raised their weapons. Nick would have snarled at them, but didn't feel he had the energy. "Release her!" Bryant commanded. Nick merely pulled the woman closer, his lips brushing against the side of her neck. She seemed calm, but her heart rate betrayed the illusion. Seeing LaCroix enter the room, Nick inwardly relaxed. Bryant turned his attention to the other vampire, telling him, "Get him to--" "What makes you think I can get Nicholas to do anything?" LaCroix replied with a partial smile. Diane tried not to shiver at the icy cold breath against her neck or the cold skin under her fingers. And then, when she felt Nick's grip loosen slightly, she shifted only for him to retighten his hold on her. Feeling a wave of nausea, Nick leaned his head forward onto the woman's shoulder, waiting for it to pass. LaCroix stepped toward bed, ignoring the weapons that were now trained on him, and gently pulled Nick toward him and away from the mortal woman. Bryant darted forward and took Diane's arm, pulling her away from Nick despite her protests. Seeing her reach for his gun and push it to the side, he demanded, "What do you think--" "Me? Maybe if you'd stop waving your weapons around...." LaCroix turned his attention away from the arguing mortals to Nick, who was now leaning heavily against him. Sensing pain in the other even as Nick's fingers clenched his arm, LaCroix half-pulled and half- lifted Nick to his feet, then backed slowly toward the bedroom door. Seeing the movement, Bryant pushed Diane out of the way, stepping toward the two vampires. "Stay right there!" Diane again tried to push Bryant's hand away, but this time he wouldn't budge. "Mark, just put it down," Metzger said, putting his own weapon away. Nodding toward LaCroix, he asked, "We'll keep our calm if you stay in this house, okay?" Without answering, LaCroix left the room, taking Nick with him. Aware the mortals were following, LaCroix stopped at the bathroom door just long enough to let Nick fly the few feet from the hall to the bathroom sink. He stepped inside and then pushed the door shut just as the woman approached. "Wait!" Diane knocked on the door, demanding, "Let me in, LaCroix." She waited, but she wasn't getting an answer. Pausing as the phone rang, Diane then relaxed and leaned against the door. Holding her bag in front of her, she quietly continued, "Please, I have something that should help him." "Dr. Reed?" one of the two uniformed officers called out. Then, approaching, he told her, "It's for you; apparently the hospital has, er, authorisation?" Diane closed her eyes. The authorisation had to be on the blood she wanted--something she hadn't quite gotten permission on earlier. "Ah...tell them that I'll have someone come down within the next hour." When the young man vanished, going back to the phone, she turned to her brother-in-law. "Sean, could you go up to the hospital and tell them I sent you?" "Yeah. Yeah, I'll go. Just take care with those two. And Bryant, remember what I told them earlier?" When Metzger looked toward him, Bryant reluctantly nodded, telling his partner, "I'll try." He then looked away, already feeling a bit helpless to do anything. Once Metzger had left, Diane stepped back over to the door. Listening, she could hear nothing. "LaCroix, please let me in. I only want to--" She stepped back as the door gave way, opening to reveal LaCroix. She tried to look past him, but he slipped out into the hall before she could see anything. "H-how is he?" she asked as LaCroix turned and she took a step back into the doorframe. LaCroix paused, attempting to contain his anger. Ignoring the woman's question, he asked, "What can you do for him?" "Is he still nauseous?" she asked, but he didn't answer. "If he is, I can try to give him something to help that. I have--" "Are you certain it will help?" LaCroix demanded, interrupting the woman. "Yes or no." "I can't say for sure as I don't know how vampires are physically different." Sensing that LaCroix wasn't going to listen to her much longer, she told him, "If I had to pick one, I'd say that yes, I think it will help." Annoyed but aware he had little choice, LaCroix twisted the doorknob and pushed it open an inch. Half-frozen under LaCroix' glare, Diane slowly stepped to the side and pushed the door open behind her. Turning, she continued to push the door inward, tacking a step away from the door as she saw Nick. He sat on the floor, leaning against the cabinets, one hand hanging onto the counter, obscuring his face. Seeing a few drops of diluted blood in the sink, she looked up and knew from the haphazardly rinsed out sink that Nick had lost yet more blood. She snapped her head around as the door was pulled shut behind her, only to find she was alone. LaCroix hadn't come back in. Looking back to Nick, Diane carefully kneeled in front of him. "What should I call you?" Diane started, and then further prodded, "Nicholas? Nick? Brabant? Knight? Something else?" "Nick is fine," he whispered, still leaning his forehead against the cool wood. "Well, Nick, if you give me your arm, I can--" "I heard what you said to LaCroix," Nick harshly interrupted. "You don't need to repeat it." Pursing her lips, Diane watched his body wince with pain. Slowly, she reached forward, her hand stopping just before reaching his wrist, right as he tensed. Pulling her hand back, she told him, "If you heard our conversation, you know I want to help. But I do need your help first." Again reaching for Nick's wrist, this time she didn't stop. With her fingers wrapped loosely around Nick's unbudging wrist, she asked, "Please?" Reluctantly, Nick relaxed and let the woman pull his arm toward her. "Thank you," Diane said as she rolled his sleeve up. Trying not to think about the cold skin in her hands or the weakness she felt in Nick's muscles, she turned to her bag, avoiding his gaze. She filled a syringe with 3 ml of fluid and took Nick's arm. Seeing him look away, she paused, asking, "You don't like needles?" "Not fond of them. Just do it." Nodding more to herself than Nick, Diane gave him the injection. "This is Compazine. It should alleviate--" Nick yanked his arm back as soon as she was done, pulling it up against his chest. Diane would have continued, but his harsh expression told her he didn't care. "I gave you a little more than the usual dose," Diane told him as she closed up her case. "But if the nausea doesn't fade soon, tell me, okay?" When he didn't answer her, not even bothering to look at her, she cautiously reached out toward him. "Nick?" she prodded as she brushed his hair to the side to get a better look at his face. Nick pulled back further as the woman's fingers nearly touched his skin. When she then reached for his chin, Nick abruptly turned, baring his fangs with a snarl. Diane fell backward, her elbow hitting the door in her surprise. "Sorry, I just--" As the door opened next to her and she saw LaCroix staring down on her, Diane cut off her sentence. She looked at Nick, but he had already turned away from her. "Remember, let me know--" and then she gasped as she was lifted to her feet by LaCroix and pulled into the hall. "You've done what you wanted to do," he stated, releasing her and turning to go to Nick. Without thinking, Diane took LaCroix' arm, telling him, "I wanted to wait and make sure--" "You have done enough!" he replied, shaking off her touch. "If Nicholas does not improve, I will tell you." LaCroix went to Nick, pushing the bathroom door closed behind him. Diane and Bryant waited silently for several minutes, and then Diane prodded the other in the arm. "Let's leave them alone." "What, and stand by and watch them leave?" "If they really want to leave, I don't think we'll be able to stop them." Although hesitant, Bryant nodded and headed to talk to one of the officers stationed at the house. Diane followed moments later, only for her thoughts to turn to her brother-in-law--and the blood he was getting from the hospital. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. It was early morning before Detective Metzger had returned to the safe house. Inside, he found both officers sleeping and Diane sitting in a chair in the main bedroom where both vampires lay sleeping on the bed. "Diane!" he called with a harsh whisper to get her attention. Once she had joined him in the hall, he asked, "Where's Bryant?" "He went home." "Great. That'll go over just great," Metzger said unenthusiastically. Seeing Diane's confusion, he explained, "The word is out that me and Bryant were with them. Both the papers and the news stations want to know where they are and what's happening. Captain suggested we should stay here to avoid drawing attention." Diane nodded. She had seen the news and knew that the two vampires were likely still being hunted. And if they were found, she and those nearby would be in danger. Lifting the black cooler bag in his hand, Metzger asked, "So, how much blood is in here, anyway?" Diane's eyes shifted to the bag. Taking it, she answered, "Hopefully more than enough." Walking back into the bedroom, Diane placed the bag on the chair she had been sitting in and unzipped the top. Glad to see two IV lines at the top, Diane took both out, along with two bags of blood. Metzger, looking at the two vampires as they slept, commented, "They seem quite close." Diane glanced toward the bed, but nothing had changed from when she had first seen them there. LaCroix still lay next to and slightly beneath the other, Nick's head leaning back toward LaCroix. Watching Diane's seemingly uncaring expression turn back to the bags of blood, Metzger asked, "Don't you think it's a bit, well, weird?" "Not really. Nick had passed out and I don't think LaCroix is doing much better; he wasn't awake for long," she told him, approaching the side of the bed Nick lay on. Setting half of her supplies down, she quickly hooked the IV line into the bag of blood, adding, "And remember, unless what's been reported on them is false, they're father and son." Metzger tensed as Diane took Nick's arm, turning it to reach his inner forearm. He looked away as she carefully stuck the needle in his arm, taped it into place, and then set the bag of red liquid on his chest. When Diane took the other bag and, walking around to the other side of the bed, inserted the IV line into the bag, he asked, "Are you sure you should do that?" glancing momentarily toward LaCroix. Diane said nothing. Cautiously, she took LaCroix' right arm and inserted the needle. However, as she taped the line into place and then turned LaCroix' arm back, his hand snaked sideways, catching her by the wrist and causing her to gasp. Now wide-awake, LaCroix opened his eyes to see fright in the mortal woman's eyes. The fear pleased him, and he released her arm. LaCroix relaxed, already starting to feel stronger as blood flowed slowly into him. "I didn't mean any harm," Diane whispered, worrying what his reaction would be. "I thought you were sleeping." "I was." Turning to fully face the woman, LaCroix told her, "Nicholas needs the blood more than I do." "I have plenty enough for both of you." Diane stood and crossed the room to the cooler bag. "If you're tired, you should sleep. I know I need some." "No," LaCroix hissed, carefully shifting out from under Nick and sitting up. "I want some answers." "Such as?" Metzger asked, stepping forward to divert attention from Diane. "Why do you seem to be making an effort to help us?" "Would you rather we not?" LaCroix' eyes flashed a deep gold at the detective. "Last week we were told that any vampires found were to be treated as any human would be," Metzger stated. "When we found you, you two were the victims." "And can we freely leave?" LaCroix asked, wanting to know these mortals' intentions. "Well, we can't stop you from leaving. I mean, you're not under arrest or anything...." "But you would prefer that we stay." Metzger glanced away for a second. He had somewhat dreaded this topic coming up. While there was no official reason to ask them to stay, there were advantages for both sides. "Isn't it your best option?" he asked, turning back to LaCroix. LaCroix tried not to snarl at the mortal, fully aware that he and Nick were safer here than if they left. Even though the likeliness of discovery was very high here, if a mortal went after them now, while they were in this house under a sort of protective custody, they would have to be insane. Abruptly feeling a wave of tiredness, LaCroix looked away. Seeing Diane start forward, he met her gaze with a sharp glance and then lay back down. He quickly closed his eyes, not wanting to deal with these mortals any more than necessary. Downward Spiral - (21/27) Waking late that morning after sleeping on the couch, Diane went to check on Nick and LaCroix. Earlier, she had stayed to give both of them blood, stopping the IVs only when the blood started flowing more slowly to each of them. Now, looking into the room, she found LaCroix sleeping soundly in the bedroom that the two vampires had been resting in. Nick, however, wasn't in the room. Getting the bag she had the Compazine in, Diane stiffened when she discovered a syringe was missing. Nick must have already given himself more of the drug. Diane then froze as she turned around, noticing the bright sunlight streaming into the hall from the other bedroom. Quickly but cautiously, she approached the doorway, a bit surprised to find Nick standing just to the side of the open drapes. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Nick glanced toward Diane. He then forcefully yanked the drapes shut before letting his eyes fully settle on her. Nervous from the other's harsh action, Diane slowly stepped toward Nick. Much as when she introduced herself to LaCroix, she held out her hand as she spoke, "I don't think I introduced myself earlier. I'm--" "Dr. Diane Reed," Nick interrupted, finishing for her. "A cardiac surgeon." "Yes," she stiffly affirmed. Then, curiously, she asked, "How did you know?" "The first I vaguely remember from listening to the conversation in the hall last night." Nick slowly walked over to a chair in the corner of the room. Although he felt like collapsing into it, Nick carefully lowered himself, keeping his eyes on the woman. "LaCroix also told me earlier." Completely unaware of the latter, she blurted out, "He was awake?" "For some time, I believe." Pausing, taking a few moments to think, Diane asked, "How long have you been up?" "Less than an hour." Diane forced a pleasant smile as she commented, "You seem to be doing better. And you look much better." "How much blood did you give me?" "Seven units." Nick closed his eyes and listened to both the woman's approaching footsteps and heartbeat. He was still so very hungry, her pulse becoming louder by the second. Realising he was focusing far too much on the woman's blood, Nick opened his eyes and looked away, hoping the bland sight of the far wall would somewhat distract his hunger. "I saw that you took some more of the drug I gave you." "Yes. It's helping." He slowly turned toward Diane, telling her, "I'd have probably been quite ill from the blood by now if not for it." Sensing Nick was taking care what he told her despite the extra information to his reply, she asked, "How much better are you, really?" Nick again looked away. She wasn't going to back off. "It's difficult to stand for any length of time." Then, meeting the woman's curious expression, he added with a faint smile, "Overall, I feel better than I did the last time I got a dose of their poison. With more blood, I think I'll be fine." "There's more blood for when you want it. I put the rest is in the refrigerator," Diane said, gesturing behind her toward the hall. Just as Nick prepared to answer, he heard a door open and then shut. Someone had arrived--two mortals by the sounds of the added heart beats. Diane had also heard someone enter the house, and she stepped back several steps. Turning around, she left the room and headed toward the commotion. Approaching, she found Bryant and another man. The latter she was sure she had seen before, but her memory was sluggish in telling her where. "Bryant, what--" "Where's Nick?" the man asked. Diane didn't answer, taken back by the demanding tone of the man. When he started past her and turned toward the hall, she went after him only for Bryant to stop her. "He is awake?" Bryant asked. "Awake, yes, but he doesn't need any surprises." At that, she started toward the man and the room where she had left Nick. Sensing a mortal's approach and having heard bits of conversation and a somewhat familiar voice, Nick stood just in time to see Schanke appear in the doorway. He shook his head, eyes wide. "You shouldn't be here, Schanke." "Probably not." Schanke stepped into the room, quickly noticing a familiar weakness in the other. In fact, Nick looked worse. "You don't look as, er, well," he said, stumbling and changing his comment part way through. "Really?" Nick replied with a feeble hint of sarcasm. Diane entered, stunned at the pleasantly amused appearance of Nick's face. He clearly both knew this man and felt comfortable around him. Looking to the man, however, she noticed he didn't seem at all at ease. And then, seeing the two together, it hit her who she was looking at. The man was Detective Donald Schanke, and had been Nick's partner in Toronto. Schanke watched as Nick's enthusiasm faded, seemingly overcome by something else. Approaching Nick, he asked, "What happened?" When Nick didn't show any signs of wanting to answer, he turned to the woman. "I'd like to talk to Nick alone, if you wouldn't mind?" Diane stiffened, sensing this wasn't a question, but a demand. Reluctantly, she nodded and left. After all, she already knew what had happened. Once the woman left, Schanke turned and walked to the door, shutting it. Turning around, Schanke watched as Nick's facade melted. He went to help Nick sit down, but Nick had already taken the step backward toward the chair and practically fell into it. "All I know about what happened is that Austin Police found you and LaCroix while they were hoping to arrest several ex-IVEA agents, and that you had been attacked." "Then you pretty much know what happened." "Pretty much?" Schanke could barely believe that Nick seemed to be trying to say as little about what happened as he could. "Come on, Nick, spill it." Nick looked away, telling the other, "You really shouldn't be here." "I care what happens to you, Nick." Then, with a slight shrug, he added, "Myra said it was fine and, actually, it was Cohen that suggested I come...." Nick turned sharply back. "Cohen?" "Yeah, thought it'd be good for me. Myra agreed. Cohen practically bought my ticket; she put me on mandatory 'vacation'. Nilson, he was arrested about a week ago. He was on the IVEA's payroll. You should have seen it; it was right at change of shift, right as I was getting there. At first, he was shocked; then he darted. So, no more partner." Stunned, Nick half-digested Schanke's reply, filing the rest away. "How did you get them to let you come here?" Nick then asked, gesturing to the room's door. "Now that wasn't easy. You can thank your and LaCroix' mood for that one; I think they let me come here because of knowing you better." Schanke paused, adding, "And don't think this means I'm here to help them get more from you. And don't tell me to leave, either. I can see how weak you are. And you're probably going to exhaust yourself trying to hide it." Firmly meeting Schanke's gaze, Nick replied, "I'm not going to tell you to leave. It's not what I want." "It isn't?" "No." Nick managed a smile. "You might want to sit down, Schanke," he said. Then, once Schanke had done so, Nick began to explain exactly what happened to him and LaCroix. He explained the attack and also what had happened since. When Nick finished, Schanke was a bit stunned that Nick was as coherent as he was. But then, Nick had also admitted that he barely remembered anything about waking up earlier, so perhaps Nick wasn't as well as he seemed? "I'll be fine, Schanke," Nick said, again forcing a smile. "I've managed to live this long; I don't think you have to worry that I'm going to suddenly keel over." Schanke nodded, pleased to at least see that Nick seemed to be relaxing. Nick would be fine, even if he wasn't right now. Arguing about it wasn't going to change anything. "So," Schanke started, then asked, "What do you think about what happened last week? I think it's bad, but at least it draws attention away from you a little." Nick tensed. What had happened last week? It had been more than a week since either he or LaCroix had last seen or heard the news. "You have checked out the news, haven't you?" Shaking his head, Nick answered, "Not...recently. What happened?" "Well, you know how the IVEA would put up information when they had killed a vampire? Well, they apparently decided that since they couldn't legally hunt you guys anymore that they'd expose as many vampires as possible. Probably every name and all the information on every vampire they know or suspect...Nick, it's all been made public." Stunned, Nick swallowed, his gaze drifting to the floor. "How many?" "Ah, a couple of hundred. Two-seventy something, I think." Schanke paused, then rambled a little, starting, "Can't imagine it's the best for the vampires mentioned, though. I mean, can't exactly try and go incognito, can they?" Nick shook his head. If they weren't already trying to hide and stay out of view, they now would be. "And what's the overall reaction?" "Actually, it just gave the FBI another reason to find as many ex-IVEA agents as possible. They didn't much like having information they hadn't seen plastered up for all. They've, ah, actually tried getting into contact with several of your kind, but with little success." Nick abruptly turned his attention back to Schanke, a bit worried. "What do you mean?" Schanke shifted. "Well, for the most part, your kind are avoiding them. Two vampires were questioned, though. Unsuccessfully." Seeing Nick's concern jump up even further, he explained, "The FBI isn't releasing information on what they were questioned about. It looks like they didn't get their questions answered, and the two were released, vanishing." "So they want a vampire that will, willingly, cooperate with them?" "That's my guess." Nick looked toward the door, hearing one of the mortals pause as they passed by. Once sure the other had left, he asked, "What have they told you about what they plan to do with me and LaCroix? Anything?" Schanke shook his head. "Nada. Absolutely zip." "But?" Nick prodded. "I'm sure you didn't leave it at that." "I did ask if they were going to detain either of you. The answer to that was no; you and LaCroix are supposedly free to go whenever you decide to leave." "LaCroix told me they seemed to want us to stay. Cited it as the 'best option.' And while that is true, I wonder if they realise the danger it might put them in? Those hunting us are bound to know I'm still alive by now." "Yeah," Schanke whispered after a few moments, his attention drifting. "Yeah, but the question is what are they going to do?" Looking back at Nick, he asked with calm seriousness, "And what are you going to do?" Nick firmly met Schanke's gaze. He honestly hadn't decided. "For now, stay here. But--" Nick turned sharply toward the door, just as someone knocked on it. Before either man had a chance to either verbally respond or stand, Diane pushed the door open. "Detective Schanke? Bryant wants to introduce you to his partner and the other officers staying here, since everyone's up." Schanke gave a shrug to Nick as he stood. "I'll be back," he said and headed after Diane. Once Schanke had left, Nick shifted so he could reach the curtain behind him. Leaning his head back, he tilted the drape forward. Hearing LaCroix approach, he commented, "Avoiding the mortals, LaCroix?" Releasing the drape, Nick turned toward the door just as LaCroix stepped into the room from the hall. "Perhaps." Slowly approaching, his eyes fully focused on a unit of blood in one hand. Meeting the younger man's eyes, LaCroix held the bag of blood out toward Nick. He smiled as Nick took the blood. "From the kitchen. As is this," LaCroix said, handing a glass tumbler out as well. Nick took the glass as well, one hand wrapped firmly around it as the other fingered the bag of blood. "I knew you wouldn't get any for yourself." "Thank you, LaCroix," Nick whispered. LaCroix walked over to the curtain, pulling one half slightly to the side. He didn't like how quiet it was outside. As light streamed between them, LaCroix commented, "I heard your partner's voice.... I'm surprised he would come." "I'm not." Releasing the curtain, LaCroix turned sharply toward Nick. "Really?" When Nick glared at him, he smirked. "Yes, he would come, wouldn't he? Stubborn, much like you." "And you," Nick added. Initially taking the comment as an angry stab, LaCroix' eyes began to narrow. But seeing a faint smile, he returned it. The younger man was in a very good mood, it seemed; likely due to his partner arriving. Nick played with the glass, turning it randomly in his hand. "LaCroix, we aren't the only living vampires with our identities revealed. It happened last week. Ex-IVEA did it." Nick turned toward the window, staring at the bits of light still streaming in from where LaCroix had moved the curtains. "Schanke told me. It's been on the news, I take it." LaCroix' anger rose quickly. Had the mortals believed they knew about this? Or had they kept it from them? Although it was likely the first given that they hadn't been there long or spoken with them much, he wanted to know more about this new altercation. What did it mean for them? He quickly turned and, walking quickly to the door, left the room and headed to the main room, where he knew there was a television. He would rather get his answers there than from these mortals. Nick's attention flitted toward the door a moment, then back to the bag of blood in his hand. It was no longer quite as chilled as when LaCroix had handed it to him, but it was far from the warm, fresh blood he had become accustomed to the last couple of months. Downward Spiral - (22/27) Two nights later, the house lay nearly empty--just the local mortals remained. Nick knew LaCroix had left the house to obtain fresher blood, although when asked he had merely told the detectives LaCroix had wanted some fresh air. Soon after, Schanke had suggested that Nick do the same. Nick, however, had no wish to hunt. Granted, Schanke likely wasn't aware that's what LaCroix was doing. But, Nick agreed that he should, as he was tired of being stuck in this house, and asked Schanke to accompany him. Agreeing, Schanke was unprepared to be pulled into the air the instant they had exited the house. He shut his eyes, not opening them until he felt solid ground beneath him. "Where are we?" "About a mile from the house." Eyes wide, Schanke could barely believe it. Nowhere near enough time had passed for them to travel that far, had it? "A mile? But...." Schanke just shook his head. Nick didn't really need to say anything. "So," he started as he stepped toward and, after a few seconds, met even with Nick's steps, he asked, "Vampires like to take walks?" "It's better than sitting in that house all night." "Yeah, probably." They walked for about half a block before Schanke commented, "Bryant doesn't seem to like either you or LaCroix much." "No. We've been trying to avoid him." "And he you, I noticed. You don't think he's...well...." "No, he's not a hunter. He would have shot one of us if he were a hunter instead of waving his weapon. He just feels nervous around us." Schanke considered what Nick said and his oddly calm and certain tone. "You're not surprised by it." "Not really. I'm more surprised by the woman." "Dr. Reed? She's what, friendly and doesn't seem at all put aback by what you--" "She's frightened, Schanke." Schanke stopped. "Frightened?" he asked, wondering where that had come from. From what he had seen of the doctor's interactions with Nick and LaCroix over the past two days, she seemed very certain in her actions. Catching back up, he asked, "Nick, she went straight for your arm tonight, no hesitation." "And I told her very clearly that I had had enough of her drug," Nick softly hissed. "And in case you haven't noticed, she's stayed away after that. I even finally got her to leave." Closing his eyes a moment, Nick explained, "The only reason she was helping was because of her training as a doctor. But she was frightened, Schanke. Afraid of what either myself or LaCroix could or possibly would do to her." Schanke didn't comment, noticing Nick visibly stiffen, his pace quickening. Nick was right, though, he supposed. He had seen her fear when Nick had insisted that he was fine, even a hint of anger. And if Nick wanted nothing to do with the woman, it was fine with him. They walked silently for a couple minutes. Just as they reached another street, Schanke asked, "So, you really feeling better like you said earlier?" "Better, yes." "You're still nauseous?" "Just a little queasy. Nothing I need to be drugged for." Schanke thought about that, but his mind quickly flashed back to Nick wincing as he sipped from a glass of blood. He had noticed it the night before, and passed it off. But Nick had done it again that evening, shortly before they left. Carefully prodding, Schanke stated, "But the blood still bothers you." Nick halted mid-step, just long enough to put Schanke off his gait and give the other a glance. He didn't think Schanke would have noticed anything like that, but he apparently did. "It's not what you think," he commented, continuing down the sidewalk. "Schanke, there's nothing wrong with the blood. I'm fine, too." "But you..." Schanke started, trying to think of a good way to describe Nick's reaction. A couple seconds later, he said, "Well, it was like you...flinched, as if it was a bad taste or something." Nick looked away, focusing on the yards of the homes they were walking by, barely even looking where he was going. Although he didn't particularly want to talk to Schanke about the taste of blood, it would perhaps get the point across that they were very different. As much as he liked Schanke coming, he wasn't sure he felt like talking. "Nick?" Giving a short glance to Schanke, Nick finally answered, "It tasted a bit...stale." "Stale?" Schanke asked. "What, you mean like it's old?" "Not really." Nick closed his eyes, taking in a breath. Then, quickly, he explained, "Until a couple of days ago, the last time I had donated blood was before you last saw me. Since, LaCroix and I have been drinking...very fresh blood." It took Schanke a second to process what Nick meant by stale donated blood and what else that meant. The opposite of stale and donated was fresh...and forcibly taken. He tried not to think about it and asked, "So it tastes different? It depends on how, ah, fresh the blood is?" "Yeah, it's different. It's far easier to switch to a fresher supply of blood than switch back." Then, after a moment, Nick asked, "You do realise this means I've killed, Schanke. And not years or centuries ago, but within the past month." Shifting uncomfortably, Schanke replied, "Yeah, I kinda gathered that." He figured Nick had probably killed recently--while working he had seen some recent cases where the victim had likely been killed by a vampire--but he hadn't considered what he would say to or ask Nick. "But you guys didn't really have much choice, did you?" "We had a choice, Schanke! We could have only killed animals or taken only a fraction of what we needed from several humans. Killing mortals for blood wasn't our only choice!" "But it was the best option, wasn't it?" Schanke asked. Nick, however, didn't answer him and they returned to walking silently. He had thought about this, too, and he knew that the other options Nick mentioned would have provided more victims. Not only would it have made vampires look worse, but it would probably also make them easier to trace. "You don't have to say anything, Nick. I know you don't like killing. And while I don't really like that you had to do that, it's better than starving to death, I guess, right?" After they had passed several more houses, Nick whispered, "I'm honestly not sure anymore, Schanke." "Not sure? What do you mean? Not sure about what?" "I'm not sure what I think of killing. I felt...different about it this time. Apathetic." Schanke swallowed. Was Nick trying to say that he didn't care anymore? "Why?" "Hunger, possibly. And the last...the woman was a hunter. I wanted to kill her, Schanke, I--" Nick cut off as he heard movement in the yard they were passing. He couldn't see a thing through the bushes, but he could hear the heartbeats of several mortals. They were only a few feet away and closing. He hadn't been paying enough attention to his surroundings. The movement distracted him enough that he missed the approaching van--which pulled right up to the curb with a screech of brakes. He reached out toward Schanke, hoping to fly them both away, but three mortals burst out of the bushes. He froze as one pushed Schanke to his knees, a gun held to the back of his head. As another three mortals got out of the van, one of them said to Nick, "Back away from him." Nick hesitated a second, but did as told. He had no choice, especially as one of the men from the van also aimed his weapon on Schanke. If he moved, Schanke was dead. How had he missed it? But he knew how, he wasn't paying attention. "Now, kneel and put your hands on the back of your head," the man continued. Nick obeyed and he was handcuffed, with his hands being pulled behind him. "You think handcuffs will hold me?" "Those might." The man then turned to Schanke. "You, too. Hands behind your head." Schanke felt cuffs snap around his wrists, but unlike Nick, his hands hadn't been moved. As soon as he was cuffed, one of the men quickly searched Nick and found nothing. The man turned back to Nick. "Get up and get in the back of the van. Resist and your friend dies." Nick closed his eyes, not budging. "Don't do it, Nick. I'm not--" "Shut up!" one of the men yelled at Schanke. "Say another word and you'll get a gag." "You have five seconds or he dies. Five, four, three--" Nick stood. Standing in place a moment, he walked slowly toward the van, feeling a gun poke him into his back a couple of times. When he paused upon reaching the back of the van, one of the men grabbed his arm, pushing him into the van, at which another man, still inside, pulled him inside. He felt a needle slide into his arm and he saw an IV drip hanging from the side of the van as the need to sleep overwhelmed him almost immediately. Schanke tried standing as three of the men got back in the van. As it sped off, one of the remaining men kept him on his knees. Then, he too was searched, at which they took his badge and wallet. Another vehicle pulled up, this time a car, and the other three men got in, leaving Schanke kneeling on the sidewalk, still handcuffed. As soon as the car left, Schanke was up on his feet and headed across the street to the nearest house. He banged on the front door until the lights flipped on and someone came to the door. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. By the time Schanke arrived back at the house, he knew the men who took Nick were likely long gone. He had nothing useful to tell the local detectives. The vehicle's license plates had been covered, and both the van and the car weren't unusual enough to be useful. And, despite being picked up fairly quickly by Sean Metzger, LaCroix was already pacing angrily by the time Schanke returned. As he related what happened while the handcuffs were removed, Schanke did all he could to avoid LaCroix' accusing gaze. LaCroix blamed him. And he couldn't shake it off, as LaCroix was right. If he hadn't been with Nick, this wouldn't have happened. Nick would have been able to escape. Schanke's mind went blank as the two detective's discussed calling the station and working on finding out where Nick might have been taken. Once alone with LaCroix, Schanke focused on the other man, watching the vampire turn purposefully away from him. Walking to the door, Schanke pushed it shut. Turning back to find LaCroix' eyes on him, he was sure the faint gold tinge to the other man's gaze was anger. Walking back toward LaCroix, Schanke prodded, "Why are you still here? I mean, can't you do something? Janette mentioned something.... You can sense him, right? Can't you, I don't know, tell where he is?" LaCroix looked away. Whether LaCroix simply didn't want to talk or he was helpless to do anything, Schanke knew he'd already said more than enough. "I'm going to go see what the others are planning to do," Schanke mentioned as he left the room. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Groggily, Nick slowly woke to find himself in a plain but dark room. Light filtered in through the barred door, just enough to see that, other than himself, there was nothing else in the room. Absolutely nothing. His hands were no longer cuffed, at least. Quickly regaining his strength, he sat up. This time, he had merely been put to sleep. He felt no more nauseous now than when he had been walking with Schanke. Thinking about that, he tensed. Where was Schanke? Had they let him go or did they keep him? If they had done the latter, it was probably to force him to cooperate. He hoped that wasn't the case, but given that Schanke could identify the men that had taken him, he wasn't sure. Hearing the approach of several mortals, Nick got to his feet just as they arrived. "You're awake, good." Nick vaguely recognised the man that spoke, sure he had seen this man on the news at some point. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Mark Evans. Your partner was quite loyal when we questioned him in Toronto. He managed to lie to us." Ignoring the reference, Nick narrowed his eyes. "Why bring me here?" he hissed, then let them see his fangs. "You would have been better off killing me. You've had plenty of chances." "For now, you're more useful alive." Evans smiled. "A couple of notes for when you wake up later.... The door will shock you if you touch it, so I'd suggest staying back. If you disregard that suggestion, your friend will be harmed." Nick tensed. The man held up Schanke's badge for him to see. It just made his anger flare more, and he took a step closer. "I'd stay back." Evans nodded to the left. As he stepped to the side, another man, some kind of security guard, walked into view with a handgun pointed at him. "Besides, you don't have time for that." The door slid open and the man fired. Nick knew he had no chance of making it out as the second bullet hit him. A third shot and he fell to his knees. With the fourth shot, he was unconscious. A man wearing a lab coat approached, to which Evans ordered, "Get several vials of blood from him, quickly." The doctor followed the guard into the room, the latter approaching Nick with his gun pointed firmly on the vampire. "If he moves, shoot him again." Once the doctor obtained four full vials of Nick's blood, he stood and left. The other man hesitated a second, then slowly walked around Nick. Glancing behind him to make sure the door was squarely behind him, the guard abruptly gasped in pain. He felt pressure on his neck and found he couldn't speak. And with his arm twisted, he could no longer hold onto his weapon, which fell to the ground. Several shots were fired which, while again disabling Nick, also killed the guard. Evans, still holding his weapon, stepped into the room. "You didn't have to kill him!" the doctor exclaimed. "He would have died, anyway. Just look at him! He had been bitten." The doctor looked down at the guard, realising that Evans was right. On the guard's neck was a rough and bloody wound and, next to it, two far cleaner puncture marks. "Get him out of here," Evans ordered, gesturing to the guard. "Me? But--" "Just pull him out into the hall." Eyes not leaving Nick, Evans watched the other reluctantly do as told. Once the guard had been moved out of the cell, he continued, "And now you're going to sedate Brabant." "I need him awake, you know that. I need his blood as free from--" "Then sedate him lightly. Do it however you want, just make sure he is weakened enough to control him or you'll be his next meal." Nodding, the doctor excused himself to his office, mentioning he needed to get supplies. Evans quickly switched out the clip in his gun just as another guard arrived. "Get in here and watch him!" he yelled. As the other approached, he said, "If he breathes, shoot him. Do not hesitate. And I wouldn't let your attention waver." Stepping into the hall, Evans glanced down at the dead guard for a second, and then pulled out a two-way radio. He called for the rest of security to meet him; mainly to deal with the body, but also so that when Frank returned to sedate Brabant, he could ensure there wouldn't be a repeat of events. As he waited, Evans saw movement out of the corner of his eye. In the next room over, their other guest was awake and had been watching him. That's all they needed--giving encouragement to the other one. In his mind, they should have both been killed by now. Especially Brabant, who didn't seem to want to give up like the others they had brought here. Downward Spiral - (23/27) Late morning, well after the sun had risen, LaCroix had left the mortals upon sensing Nick. Detective Schanke had already gone with the two local detectives to their precinct with the intention of trying to help. He had remained behind despite Schanke's prodding that he should come with him, both because the sun had risen and because he had no wish to be surrounded by mortals. Then, when he had sensed his son was awake, he had immediately left the house. But the bright daylight impeded his effort far more than he wished. That, and he hadn't gotten a clear fix on Nick before the other again weakened. All he could sense was a muddled, vague feeling that told him little more than that his son was alive, but not where. He had searched for two hours, hoping that Nick would strengthen again, but so far there was no sign of that happening. With reluctance, LaCroix realised that for now he could do nothing on his own. Once night fell, he could perhaps try to find the other; but for now, it was futile. LaCroix considered returning to the house, but instead he decided to find the precinct where the mortals had gathered. Perhaps they had discovered something he could use? After taking a moment to recall snippets of conversation he had heard between the mortals, he unenthusiastically found a phone book to look up the location. Travelling during the day was not pleasant, and he had no wish to wander around this city any longer than was needed. Fifteen minutes later, arriving at his destination LaCroix carefully avoided as many of the mortals as possible as he headed toward Detective Schanke's voice. He nearly reached him when he caught another detective's gaze lingering on him. "Surprised to see you here," Bryant barked. "From what we heard, you had left." "Really?" LaCroix asked, turning his attention away from Bryant and onto several other, unknown detectives, who seemed rather nervous upon having his attention shifted unexpectedly to them. Schanke stopped what he was doing, a bit surprised to see LaCroix there. From what he gathered, LaCroix had left to find Nick. And if he was here, then.... Gently, but insistently, Schanke took LaCroix by the arm and led him away from and out of earshot of the others. LaCroix fought the urge to yank his arm free from the mortal, but the morning had already tired him enough that he didn't bother. At least it kept him from having to answer the other mortals' questions. "You don't...well," Schanke started, but the other merely glared at him. "Nick's okay, right?" "He is alive." Schanke stiffened at the simple and almost indifferent comment. "But what?" "I cannot locate him." LaCroix looked away, sending a glare at several of the mortals that were staring at him. "When I sensed him earlier, he was far stronger and awake." "And now?" Ignoring the question, LaCroix simply stated, "He must be found soon. These mortals will kill him the instant he is no longer of use to them." Schanke swallowed. Somewhat hesitant, he told LaCroix in a whisper, "The police here have been working with the FBI to track down rouge ex-IVEA agents and others that have joined them. They've been tracking the movements of several groups in the area, and they know one of them went after you and Nick. They don't know where Nick was taken, but do know that he wasn't taken far. A couple hundred miles, tops." "He's not in the city." "So you can sense him?" Schanke carefully prodded, lowering his voice even further. "I mean, right now?" "Faintly." LaCroix smirked, just for a second, but it quickly vanished. "But only enough to know that Nicholas is not in the immediate area." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. As Nick woke, his surroundings slowly brightened into a blurry mass. After a couple of minutes the fuzziness faded, but his tiredness remained. All he could see was the empty back corner of the room. Trying to sit up, Nick discovered he was too weak. It took much effort to turn his head the other way, but he managed it after a couple of attempts. Once he had, he immediately tried to pull away, finding a mortal, clearly some sort of doctor, kneeling next to him. "Hold him still!" said the doctor who had seen Nick earlier, shouting to one of the security guards. Nick struggled, but he still couldn't move. He felt the mortal hold his shoulders down. Nick hissed up at the man, his fangs clearly visible. Feeling an ache from his right arm, he shifted his gaze just as the doctor stood, holding a syringe and a full unit of blood in one hand, a needle and several vials in the other. Nick didn't even feel the other man release him, his eyes following the two as they left the cell and closed the door. He relaxed somewhat once he was alone, although he felt uncomfortable lying there, unable to do anything. He felt no better now than he did as he woke mere minutes earlier. Looking away, less than five minutes later Nick was startled when he heard something tossed in at him. Turning back to the barred door, he saw the doctor walking away. After several tries, Nick managed to shift far enough to the side to see what had been tossed in: It was a unit of blood. Human blood, if his senses were accurate. But was it some trick? Was it drugged? Poisoned? He managed to ignore the blood for a good quarter of an hour, his attention fixed firmly on the ceiling. But he was hungry. Given that they seemed to want him for his blood, the unit of blood was likely not poisoned; they appeared to need him alive. And, as he suspected they had already drugged him, he reached for the blood. And then, once he had the bag in his hands, he brought it to his lips and bit into one corner. Testing a few drops of the liquid--far fresher than he had expected to taste--he felt a momentary surge of energy and emptied the rest of the bag as fast as he could manage. But it didn't help. It dimmed his hunger--for the moment. But he still felt just as weak as he had before. All he could do was lie there, completely still, and try to conserve what little strength he had. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. LaCroix had stayed at the precinct, both out of need and lack of other options. The sun was still shining bright in the sky and would be for several more hours. He had listened in on the mortals over the past couple of hours, but he learned only one thing; the mortals had no idea where Nick was. They had a list of possible locations, yes. But short of trying every single one of them, they had nowhere to start. And if they picked the wrong first location, it could tip the hunters off if they were as well organised as was believed. Besides, he had trouble believing these mortals genuinely wanted to find his son. Sliding away from the mortals, LaCroix closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, trying to block everything out. All of the mortals and all of their noise...even Nick. But when he did, he felt his son nearly as strong as he had that morning. He was awake, but still weak. Schanke, who had watched LaCroix retreat mere moments before, saw the vampire stiffen. Stepping away from the others as well, Schanke prodded, "LaCroix?" "I know where Nicholas is," LaCroix answered, his eyes snapping open. It took a second for the words to register, but when they did, Schanke whispered, "You can sense him?" "Yes." "And Nick, he's...?" "Alive, yes. And awake." Sensing LaCroix' hesitation to say more, Schanke started back toward the table the local detectives were still gathered around. He took merely a single step before he turned back and took LaCroix' arm, urging him to follow. While light grip was instantly brushed off, he did catch a nod from LaCroix, which he returned. Schanke then stepped over to the table, pushing one of the detectives aside with a shooing motion. "Move, move," he mumbled, searching the table for the list of locations. Spying the piece of paper, he snatched it and turned around, handing it to LaCroix. "Is it enough to narrow this list down more?" LaCroix scanned the locations. The detectives had already crossed out any location either in the city of Austin or within a half hour's drive. And that left seven more possibilities within two hundred miles. Again closing his eyes, this time he focused solely on Nick. He turned, slightly, until he felt his son the strongest. The younger man was certainly not in the immediate area, but he couldn't be too far away. "That way," he said as he nodded to indicate ahead of him. Caught off-guard by the words, no one immediately spoke. After a few seconds, a local detective replied, "That's northeast, I think...." He walked over and took the paper from LaCroix, quickly scanning the list. Only one of the addresses was northeast of the city, and looking up, he told the others, "It's the third address." Another of the men, an FBI agent, pulled the list from the detective's hand. He shook his head. "Wouldn't have checked there first, that's for sure." He dropped the paper back onto the table, detailing, "It's a small building, not high on the list of possibilities. We haven't seen much activity there for several weeks." "But it's probably ideal," Metzger whispered. "In a virtually unpopulated area, yet only an hour's drive from here." No one spoke or moved for a long moment, at which Schanke found he couldn't just stand there. "So, are we waiting for something?" "Well," the FBI agent started, explaining, "There's only seven of us here, eight if you count Mr. LaCroix--" "I'm not letting Nick sit there longer than necessary." Schanke turned and gave a nod to LaCroix, then started toward the exit. Bryant stopped Schanke, and then turned his attention back to the FBI agent. "It's a small facility, right? That's what you told us last week, before any of this was a concern." Releasing Schanke, he stepped around the table and faced the FBI agent. "You said there were no guards outside the building." "Yes, but there are security cameras on the property and we do not know what is inside the building. Nor how many people are inside, or how many are armed. We'd be blind idiots trying to--" "Even with LaCroix helping us?" Schanke interrupted. He then turned toward LaCroix and raised his eyebrows slightly, hoping that LaCroix would, indeed, help. Receiving an almost mischievous smile, Schanke tensed slightly, wondering just what LaCroix had in mind. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Evans cursed as he arrived in the security room. Outside, three vehicles had pulled up. He watched the screen just long enough to see a nearly covered figure slip out of a van. Suspecting it was likely LaCroix, as the vampire had been left with the Austin police, he cursed again and then told the security guard, "Notify the others to kill both of our guests. Then go to the lab and help Frank destroy his records." Making his way as quickly as he could to the other end of the building, Evans arrived at Nick's cell just as three men exited the other vampire's cell and walked toward him. "Is it done?" "He's dust," one man replied. "There's still Brabant, though." Evans nodded as he followed the three inside Nick's cell. He then watched as they walked purposely toward the vampire, who was clearly awake and trying to move away from the guards. Nick hissed at the mortals as he tried to get up, but he hadn't even managed to roll onto his side before they pinned him, facedown, to the floor. One of the mortals' grips slipped, and he hit the man as hard as he could only to have his arm pulled sharply back. Then, he felt a sudden and sharp pain at the back of his neck, then nothing. The four men stood still for nearly a minute, waiting. But, unlike their other victim, who burned to ashes half a minute after being killed, nothing happened. One of the men reached down and, taking Nick's shoulder, rolled him over onto his back. "Leave him," Evans ordered. "But he hasn't--" "It's done! He'll turn to dust sooner or later." He nodded toward the hall, making it clear the conversation was over. Once in the hall, he looked to two of the men, telling them, "Go to the lab and help Frank." Switching his attention to the remaining man, he said, "Destroy the security tapes if you can." Knowing full well that none of them would be able to slip out of the building, Evans headed toward his office, which was in the same direction as the entrance. Turning the corner, he found that LaCroix and several other men had already entered the building. Although they were armed, he didn't bother going for his gun, as it would only give them a reason to shoot and possibly kill him. He stiffened, keeping his gaze firm and purposeful even as the vampire's eyes flashed deep red in anger. LaCroix wasted no time, flying forward and shoving the mortal hard against the wall behind him. Having felt a wave of pain from Nick moments earlier--and now nothing--LaCroix tightly gripped the man's neck and demanded, "Where is he?" "Dead," Evans stated hoarsely, only managing to get the one word out. Hearing that, Schanke and Metzger slipped by LaCroix and headed to find Nick. Bryant, seeing that LaCroix was showing no sign of stopping and seeing that the man's face was taking on a purplish tinge, stepped forward, telling him, voice slightly raised, "Kill him and...well, I don't know what will happen other than that I doubt it will be good for your kind." LaCroix shut his eyes, trying to avoid lashing out at the detective. Infuriated, he roughly released Evans, only for the half-choking mortal to send a satisfied glare at him. Without warning, LaCroix grabbed the man's arm, pulling him away from the wall, and then, turning him, forcibly twisted his arm back while shoving him back toward the wall. Unwillingly, Evans cried out in pain as the bones in his forearm broke. LaCroix ignored the mortal and the foul curses now being directed at him, his gaze drifting down the hall where Schanke and another detective had just disappeared around another corner. Meeting Bryant's somewhat shocked gaze for a split second, he then headed after the other two, hoping they were heading the right direction as he heard one set of footsteps suddenly stop. Further into the building, Schanke and Metzger had found their way to a short hallway with two cells on one side. Surprisingly, they hadn't run into anyone else. Reaching the first cell, Schanke stopped upon seeing Nick lying on his back, seemingly unconscious, and Metzger continued to the other cell. Slowly, Schanke stepped into the room, sensing something was wrong. The door was open and Nick was too still. Going to him, Schanke knelt next to Nick, his eyes darting to the deep-red blood pooled on the floor at the base of Nick's head. Gently, he half-rolled Nick onto his side. Seeing a metal grip connected to what looked like a thin piece of metal slicing into Nick's skin and likely well into his neck, he felt sick. Did this count as decapitation? Coming from the other room, Metzger said, "There's a dusting of ashes and a near-circular metal blade in the other cell. No occupants. I-- " Metzger froze as he entered Nick's cell, seeing what looked like the blade he had seen in the other room embedded into Nick's neck. "I'm going to see if that ambulance the FBI insisted on is here yet." Metzger left, not meeting LaCroix' gaze as he passed the vampire several yards down the hall. LaCroix slowed as he approached. He had not expected to find his son like this, not even with the mortal's statement. Nor even with the lack of the other's presence. Schanke stepped out of the way as LaCroix knelt, watching as the vampire gently touched Nick's face. "Is Nick, ah...." LaCroix ignored the unfinished question. Touching the drops of blood clinging to the younger vampire's neck, he tasted it and sensed a hint of lingering life. The blade, perhaps, hadn't been in long enough to kill. Immediately, he reached for the metal grip and unceremoniously yanked it out, letting it fall to the floor with a sharp clang. Stepping forward as LaCroix rolled Nick back onto his back, Schanke asked, "Can you help him?" He stiffened as, while the other didn't look at him, he heard others approaching. From Metzger's voice, he suspected it was the paramedics. More insistently, he prodded, "LaCroix? What--" Just as the mortal paramedics arrived in the room accompanied by Detective Metzger, LaCroix turned to face Schanke. When the newcomers approached, LaCroix sent a bright golden glare at the two mortals, warning them back. "What does Nick need?" Schanke asked, getting LaCroix to turn back to him. "Blood, right?" LaCroix turned back to Nick, aware what Schanke was going to suggest. His son would get more than enough blood if he allowed these mortals to help. But all he wanted to do was to take his son and leave. "LaCroix?" Abruptly, LaCroix turned and stood, his icy gaze locked onto the paramedics' nervous faces. He approached them and watched as they shrank back from him. "You do nothing to him without my permission!" he hissed, then stepped to the side, leaving the path from them to Nick open. The two, one man and one woman, both hesitated several seconds before going to the other man. The young man checked for Nick's vital signs, of which he found none, while the woman started to give him blood. Seeing the woman reach for a bag of saline, LaCroix told them, "You give him blood and nothing more." Both paramedics paused, the man replying, "He's not breathing, has no pulse, and you--" "At least allow a saline IV and oxygen," the woman suggested. "I doubt either will hurt him." LaCroix glanced away. "Fine. But you give him nothing else." Standing off to the side, Schanke was tense from the firm tone of LaCroix' voice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Detective Metzger motioning toward the door. Somewhat reluctantly, Schanke followed Metzger into the hall, where they then met one of the FBI agents. The agent held out Schanke's badge and wallet, telling Schanke, "We found these in Evans' office." "Thanks," Schanke said, taking the items and putting them away. When the agent gave no sign of leaving, he snapped, "And?" "Would you come with me, Detective?" Schanke stiffened, about to protest, but the agent gripped his arm first, starting him down the hall. He glanced back toward Metzger, but the detective didn't follow. "I assure you, this is nothing to worry about." Just as the other was about to speak, he continued, "We'll talk outside." "I'm not going anywhere with you," Schanke stated, but let the other lead him outside and away from the others. Once they were standing in the late afternoon sun, just a few feet from the ambulance, the agent assured, "This won't take long. I'm assuming you're planning on accompanying Brabant to the hospital?" "Maybe." Schanke's attention drifted to the other vehicles, where it looked like about six men had been taken from the building. All of the men except Evans were calm. "Well then, quickly answer my questions and we'll see about that." Getting no response from Schanke, the agent continued, "Is LaCroix dangerous?" "What do you mean by that?" The man pursed his lips, rephrasing, "If Brabant dies, what is LaCroix likely to do?" "Well, he won't be happy, but I suspect you know that. I'd keep Evans somewhere safe, but then if Nick dies, he's going to have more to worry about than LaCroix." At the remark, the agent raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to disregard that. The question is if LaCroix is any danger to those in the immediate area?" "At the hospital?" "Anyone." "Why do you want to know?" Schanke asked, sensing there was some reason behind this questioning. "There have been two similar situations. The outcomes have been kept from the news." Pausing, the FBI agent explained, "Twice in the last couple of weeks we've discovered nearly dead vampires. Both times they were taken to a hospital, and both times the discovered vampire died, even with care. After the second death, several of the men that had taken the victim turned up dead while still in FBI custody." "So, you want to know if LaCroix is going to go after them if Nick doesn't make it," he said, nodding toward the unmarked vehicles they had arrived in. "Honestly? You'd be better off asking LaCroix, something I'd advise against doing just now." Schanke turned to go back inside, but the agent stopped him. "And Brabant? How likely is he to go after them if he recovers?" Schanke just shook his head, refusing to answer. Then, seeing the paramedics bring Nick out covered loosely with what looked like a fairly thick blanket, followed by Detective Metzger and a cloaked LaCroix, he tersely asked the agent, "May I leave? Or am I being arrested?" The agent suppressed his anger, replying, "You can leave," and then started walking toward his partner and the others. Looking to Nick as the paramedics put him in the ambulance, Schanke felt uncomfortable seeing the other lying so very still and covered, like a corpse. And then, focusing on LaCroix, he inwardly stiffened. LaCroix seemed almost subdued despite the late afternoon sun shining behind him. Schanke didn't believe LaCroix' disposition could, in any way, be a good sign. Downward Spiral - (24/27) After arriving at the hospital in Austin, Schanke quickly watched LaCroix' patience dwindle. First, the doctors at the hospital insisted on x-rays. Initially, LaCroix had outright refused, but after arguing with the doctors over the multiple, nearly-healed bullet wounds Nick had, he allowed the x-rays and the surgery needed to remove the bullets, aware Nick would likely heal faster with the bullets out. For a quarter of an hour, LaCroix had paced in the waiting room. But after several others became uncomfortable--including the receptionist and a uniformed officer--Schanke had suggested they go outside as the sun had set soon after their arrival. While the change of location had calmed LaCroix, nearly an hour had passed, which meant he was even tenser than earlier. And the worry was starting to rub off on Schanke, as while LaCroix was no longer pacing, he was. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Schanke caught a dark figure slipping out of view. It was Janette. Going over to LaCroix, he nearly spoke, but LaCroix turned to look at him. Schanke then fumbled slightly as he started, "Uh, Janette--" "Is here, yes." "How long?" Instead of answering, LaCroix glared at the mortal. Talking was not what he felt like doing right now; something that at least his daughter sensed. Without a word, he returned inside. Schanke closed his eyes, hoping that neither LaCroix nor any of the hospital's employees would get too annoyed by the other. "You are quite a ways from home, Detective." Turning around and opening his eyes, Schanke found Janette standing mere feet from him. She was somewhat unusually dressed--a long, plain black coat with abnormally simple clothes underneath, also black. "So are you." "Yes. Until last week, I was in Europe. Flying among the mortals was most unpleasant; although, seeing the shock on a few of their faces was almost satisfying," she said, her tone attempting to be playful, but both that and a slight smile flickered for a mere moment before failing. "Evading them once the plane landed on this continent was rather...annoying." "You came here for Nick." "Yes." She then looked away, adding in a whisper, "And for LaCroix." Schanke simply nodded at the addition. "Detective Schanke?" a male voice came from the hospital doors. Turning, Schanke nearly snapped at the other until he realised it was a doctor he had seen earlier. He momentarily looked to Janette, as she walked up to his side and the doctor's attention shifted nervously to her. "She's a friend." Glancing at the ground, the doctor refocused and then told Schanke, "We've moved him to a private room. Your friend, Mr. LaCroix, is with him." As Schanke headed inside, the doctor stopped Schanke, gripping the other man's arm and telling him, "LaCroix has adamantly refused to allow us to put Brabant on any kind of life support. We removed several bullets from his chest and abdomen and immobilised his neck. His life signs are very erratic and, generally, nonexistent. Perhaps you could--" Janette stepped forward, focusing her attention on the doctor. "Release him and take us to Nicolas." When the man only turned toward her, she let her eyes glow softly as she repeated, "Release him, now." The doctor released Schanke just as the woman reached for his wrist. Nodding toward Schanke with a hint of fright, he turned and led the two inside. As they entered the hospital, Schanke slowed and let Janette pass him in the hall. Reaching a room with two cops standing on either side of the door, Janette visibly stiffened. Mortals, 'guarding' Nick. She didn't like it, but knew it was safer for Nick--as well as herself and LaCroix. She entered the room after the doctor opened the door and pushed it inward. Schanke stepped in front of the doctor, just as he was about to follow Janette inside. "Unless you absolutely have to do something in there, perhaps just leave them alone?" The doctor stiffened, but nodded and left. Backing up into the room and gently closing the door, Schanke turned to see Janette standing next to Nick's hospital bed. LaCroix, however, was standing looking out the room's window, one hand holding back thick drapes likely put there just for Nick. After a couple of minutes of trying to avoid looking at the brace around Nick's neck, the oxygen mask and the IV line of blood, Janette asked, "What did they do to him?" As she waited for a response, she let her fingers gently touch Nick's cheek. "Decapitation." Janette turned sharply toward LaCroix at the whisper, her eyes wide. "Well, not really," Schanke corrected, a bit nervously. He watched as Janette stiffened, but LaCroix didn't budge. "I mean, it wasn't a proper decapitation, right?" "No," LaCroix whispered without turning around. "He is healing." "Slowly," Janette softly added, turning back to Nick. "I've never seen one of us quite like this." Straightening, Janette faced Schanke with a faint smile. "Thank you for telling that doctor to leave." Feeling ever more uncomfortable being the only human in the room, Schanke took a step back. "I should probably leave, at least for a while." "No," Janette commanded, stopping Schanke before he managed to turn around. "Nicolas, I suspect, would want you to stay." At that, LaCroix turned away from the window but said nothing; after all, Janette was likely right. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Late the next day, very little had changed. A few hours earlier, Schanke had left for a nearby hotel after being taken back to the precinct to get his rental car. Even LaCroix had left the room. First, he had left to ensure the only things the mortals had taken from his son were bullets. He was pleased to discover the mortals weren't taking advantage of the situation. He had also, later, gone to request blood for Janette. However, he didn't stray for long on either occasion. Janette eventually pulled a chair over and sat down. Initially, she had refused the unit of blood LaCroix had obtained, drinking it only after he poured it into a glass and insisted that she take it. Neither took any time to rest. Near sunset, Janette tiredly rested her head on the bed, her fingers entwined with Nick's, as they had been for hours. Abruptly, she felt his hand grasp hers, and she sat up to see Nick looking at her. His eyes were glazed over, however. And just as soon as his eyes flickered open, they again slid shut. Only when she no longer felt Nick's hand grip hers did she look away and to LaCroix. "Why is this taking so long, LaCroix? If he's healing, why--" "Have you ever seen one of us with these kind of injuries?" "No," Janette quickly answered. Then, softly, she added, "But you've managed to recover from...similar injuries." Not wanting to go into this, LaCroix narrowed his eyes, simply answering, "Perhaps." Both vampires turned toward the door as they heard commotion in the hall. The problem was a mortal reporter by the sounds of the argument. Patience thin, LaCroix left the room and walked the few steps toward the mortal reporter, cameraman, and the nurse that was unsuccessfully trying to argue with them. Pushing the nurse to the side, LaCroix took the reporter by the neck and pushed him backward down the hall. Several rooms away, he released the man, simply intoning, "*Leave.*" The man stood dazed for a moment, the cameraman so shocked he hadn't even been paying attention. The reporter silently turned and started toward the exit. The ashen cameraman followed a moment later, but glanced back toward LaCroix a couple of times before turning a corner. When LaCroix turned back around, he came face to face with the nurse. She shivered as he walked toward and past her. Following him to the room and arriving just as he prepared to shut the door, leaving her in the hall, she managed to tell him, "I need to check on him." "He's fine," LaCroix hissed. "Now leave." The nurse held her position. "I'll only be a moment." LaCroix looked away. He either needed to let this woman do her job, or, likely, have her go get another mortal to back her up. Wanting as few distractions as possible, he stepped to the side and allowed her to enter. Slowly walking up to Nick, the nurse quickly checked to see how much blood was left and make sure the IV line delivering it was still in place. Finished with that, she turned her attention upward, opening one of Nick's eyes only to jump as he blinked and flinched away at her touch before again returning to a sleep-like state. "He is recovering," Janette whispered. The nurse jumped again as she felt hands on her shoulders. Slipping away from Janette, she told them, "I'll be back." *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Returning to the hospital shortly before sunset, Schanke found Janette waiting outside Nick's room, the door shut. "What's going on?" "The nurse retrieved a doctor after Nicolas responded to her prodding." "He's awake?" Schanke reached for the doorknob, but Janette stopped him. When the two officers reacted to her action, stiffening and nervously watching her every move...as if she might abruptly kill someone if they didn't, Janette gently pulled Schanke away from the door. Once she and Schanke were on the other side of the hall and nearly to the next room, Janette shook her head and told him, "No, he isn't yet awake." "Is LaCroix...?" Schanke prodded, nodding back toward the door. "Yes. He refused to leave. A Detective Metzger is also inside." "Metzger? Why is he here?" "Apparently to assess Nicolas' condition." Then, with distaste, Janette explained, "The FBI wants a statement as soon as possible, and they somehow learned that Nicolas was recovering." "Metzger's on your side." "I gathered that from LaCroix." Janette turned away, her eyes fixing on the door. "LaCroix is allowing him to stay long enough to question the doctor." After a couple of minutes, Schanke started, "So..." but then halted, stiffening as the door to Nick's room opened. Metzger, a doctor, and a nurse then exited. The latter two left, Schanke's eyes snapping to the neck brace in the nurse's hand as they walked away. Janette's attention remained on Metzger. Nodding at a piece of paper in his hands, she demanded, "What is that?" "It's a statement saying that Nick is not to be questioned until he recovers, with a list of those allowed unlimited access to the room, which is limited to family. All other visitors must be approved." While Janette seemed pleased at the answer and she returned inside Nick's room, Schanke stiffened. He wasn't Nick's family; not like Janette and LaCroix. "Don't worry, you're on the list," Metzger said with a smile. More seriously, he nodded down the hall. "I, however, am not. And I need to get this copied and sent out before it gets any later, and also before my wife calls again." Absently, Schanke nodded, his thoughts straying. Myra had called earlier that morning, asking if he wanted her and Jenny to come down. He had refused. After all, once he was sure Nick would recover, he would be returning home. Nick would surely insist on it after what had happened. Tense, Schanke finally entered Nick's room, LaCroix shutting the door behind him. The action would have startled him if not for Janette's voice softly calling Nick's name. Nick shifted his head as he approached, but his gaze seemed unfocused. By the time he reached Janette, Nick had drifted back into unconsciousness. Janette left the side of the bed and walked purposely toward LaCroix. "Allow them to sedate him, LaCroix." "I've already given my answer on that," LaCroix firmly hissed at Janette, resting a hand on her shoulder as he walked behind and around her. "A few hours; just long enough for him to truly rest and gain more strength!" LaCroix ignored the suggestion. His son had already spent long enough sedated or otherwise weakened. "He doesn't seem very, ah, stable," Schanke commented, turning toward LaCroix. But the vampire didn't look at him or respond. Janette walked up to LaCroix, her gaze harsh. "He's not." Tired of Janette's arguing, LaCroix gave a quick glance to Nick and then left, shutting the door behind him harder than necessary. Watching Janette return to Nick's side and sit in the chair next to the bed, Schanke commented, "So, anything new? Other than that he's slowly coming around...." "No. As you stated, he is not stable. He has not yet spoken." Then, softer, she added, "I still cannot sense him, although I believe LaCroix can. LaCroix won't allow these mortals to sedate him due to his slow and erratic recovery." Downward Spiral - (25/27) Not long before sunrise, Schanke was about to leave to get some breakfast when he saw Janette start quickly for Nick. Turning, he walked slowly forward and watched as Nick stiffly moved but easily managed to pull the oxygen mask off. When Nick closed his eyes, Schanke approached further, saying Nick's name. After taking several deep breaths, Nick hoarsely whispered, "I want to leave." He sat up, wincing as his joints moved for what felt like the first time in a week. He felt dizzy and leaned heavily on one side when the feeling didn't pass after a couple of seconds. Schanke was torn between getting a doctor and remaining. He did the latter, although he became worried when Nick pulled the blood-giving IV out of his arm and started to get out of the bed. "Rest, Nicolas," Janette said, trying to push Nick back, but he fought her, pushing her roughly to the side. Stiffening, Janette reluctantly allowed Nick to lean on her as he stood. As he did so, she felt as though almost all of his weight was transferred to her. "I want to leave, Janette," Nick whispered into her ear. "Now." He attempted to take a step, still holding onto Janette, but he quickly lost the strength to hold onto her shoulder. As Janette tried to steady him further, he pushed her away. Schanke stepped forward, catching Nick just as he dropped hard to his knees. Nick held onto Schanke, his light-headedness increasing. "You know, it's generally not a good idea to try and leave the hospital the moment you wake up from a serious injury." Nick nodded at Schanke's comment, relaxing as he felt Janette's hands on his back. But he then tensed as the feeling vanished and LaCroix pulled him away from Schanke and into a standing position. Being pushed back onto the bed, he instinctively hissed at the sudden disorientation, but calmed once he caught his breath and his dizziness faded. Pushing LaCroix away and shifting so that he was fully on the bed, Nick remained still at first. Janette slid in front of LaCroix and gently stroked Nick's forearm, but he jerked away from her touch. Several seconds passed, after which Nick reached for the oxygen mask he had pulled off mere minutes earlier. Taking a slow, deep breath from the mask, it was nearly too much and he again pushed it away. Calming, he asked, "What time is it?" "A little before six in the morning," Schanke answered. "How long?" "About 36 hours since we found you." Nick turned away. Then, softly, he said, "I still want to leave tonight, LaCroix." Closing his eyes, all he could hear were quick heartbeats all around. As someone walked by the door, he heard the mortal's heartbeat quicken. It faded, only for the sounds of another mortal to take the first's place. "At least out of here." There was a quick, soft knock at the door, at which a nurse entered and started toward Nick. However, the woman then froze as she realised Nick was awake, watching him shift as she slowly approached. As her eyes locked on the undone IV, her hesitation vanished and she walked toward the bed, putting what this man was at the back of her mind. He was a patient and that's how she would treat him. Schanke backed out of her way, as did Janette. LaCroix remained in place, forcing the nurse to walk around him. Reaching for the IV, the nurse commented, "Good to see you awake." Nick glared at her, sarcastically replying, "Really." She tensed and then, holding the needle, told him, "Give me your arm." Nick looked away. His hunger peaked as she reached toward him, but he allowed her to take his arm and reinsert the IV. The nurse then turned her attention to the oxygen mask, which Nick was holding against his chest with his other hand. "How are you breathing?" "Fine," Nick stated, although it was a slight lie. Then, he turned away and onto his side, pulling the sheet up and over him as he did so. Seeing a faint but very fresh scar on the back of Nick's neck, the nurse reached forward, only for LaCroix to tightly grip her wrist. She protested as he pulled her away from the bed. "You've seen that Nicholas is awake. Now get out!" LaCroix harshly whispered in the woman's ear and then released her, giving her a small shove toward the door. He watched her nervously spin to face him before she left. As the mortal left, Janette gently placed her hand on Nick's back, purposely avoiding the back of his neck and the still healing wound. After a moment, she carefully moved her hand, touching his shoulder and the side of his neck, trying to soothe and relax him. But he merely tensed further. LaCroix watched Janette try to ease the tension in Nick's muscles, but he knew it would do no good. The younger vampire wanted out of the hospital, and that was it. Aware that if he remained he would likely start an argument with his son, LaCroix stated, "I will return before sunrise," and then left. Mere seconds after LaCroix exited the room, Nick pushed Janette's hand away and rolled back onto his back. "Go with him, Janette." As she started to protest, he told her, "I'm not going anywhere and I'm sure LaCroix would enjoy your company." Giving Nick a soft smile, Janette nodded. As she left, she let her gaze settle on Schanke as she walked by him. Once Janette had left, Nick lay still, closing his eyes as he finally calmed. He didn't want LaCroix and Janette there, trapped in the room with him. All he could sense was their irritation and frustration at being stuck there, which did nothing to help any of them. Schanke shifted from one foot to the other. Now alone with Nick, he wondered if his presence bothered Nick as much as the nurse. He was, after all, mortal. And Nick didn't even want Janette there, it seemed. "Uh, Nick, I can leave if you'd like to be alone?" Eyes snapping open, Nick immediately answered, "No, Schanke, stay." Schanke fidgeted a moment longer, but then sat in the chair Janette had pulled up toward the bed. Softly, Nick asked, "There's a scar, isn't there?" "I don't know. I couldn't really see earlier--" Schanke stopped when Nick turned his head away for him to see. And yep, there was a fresh scar slicing straight across the back of Nick's neck. "Ah, yeah. It's probably not healed yet, though, right? I mean you haven't fully recovered...." Nick again laid his head back. "Vampires don't scar, Schanke." The comment surprised Schanke, and for several seconds he didn't comment. "You guys usually aren't out that long either, though, right? So maybe it'll just take longer." "Maybe." Nick turned his attention away. "I am glad you're here." Schanke tensed. Nick's voice, firm and unemotional, seemed anything but happy. "But?" "But you have to go back to Toronto. Tonight or tomorrow morning, no later." "Nick, you're not even out of--" "I'll be fine, Schanke! But you have your own life." Nick squarely faced Schanke, and shaking his head slightly, he told the other, "Don't come after me again, Schanke. No matter what you might hear." Schanke dropped his gaze from Nick. "I guess it's a bit my fault you're here, isn't it? I mean, if I hadn't come down here...." "It likely would have made no difference." "No," Schanke started, vigorously shaking his head. "No. If I hadn't been with you, talking to you, you wouldn't have been distracted." "It wasn't your fault, Schanke; I was plenty distracted by my own thoughts. That wouldn't have changed." "Maybe, but they used me to get you to cooperate." "Something that wasn't entirely necessary, as they have ways of disabling us. If you weren't there, I would have still been distracted and they could have just shot me with a tranquilliser." Nick closed his eyes. He felt no better now than he had when he woke. He wanted to sleep, and he took a slow, deep breath. "So, I guess this'll mean goodbye?" "Yes. There's nothing you can do to help and you'll be far better off if you just forget about me." Nick rolled his head to the side and gave Schanke a bit of a smile. "Although, I suspect that won't actually happen." Feeling a bit nervous despite Nick's expression, he swallowed and asked, "You won't, you know, make me, ah--" Still smiling, Nick shook his head. "No, I'm not planning on it." Turning slightly more serious, he added, "It doesn't mean you'll never hear from me again, just that you shouldn't count on it or think about it. Vampires don't mix well with mortals." "I don't know about that..." Schanke started. "Really, other than being vampires, you haven't done anything to mortals. Well, okay, you have, but it's not like there's been publicity about people getting killed or whatnot. It's more that mortals don't mix well, right?" Nick considered the thought. It made sense, really. It was the mortals and their reactions that created this mess. Mortals reacted emotionally to what little they knew about vampires, filling in the blanks with their fear. Eventually, however, Nick had to shake his head. "There will always be tension, Schanke. Always. Vampires require blood to survive and our preference is human blood. That won't change." Neither spoke for a moment. Shifting, Nick gradually sat up, taking care not to move too fast. Gesturing to the top of the bed, which was only very slightly tilted, he asked, "Could you help me adjust this thing?" Relaxing at the far more mundane topic, Schanke nodded. After a couple of minutes of fiddling--and accidentally adjusting the bed completely flat--Schanke managed to tilt it up further. Once Nick had settled back, Schanke told him, "You know, you're one of the best Detectives I've ever worked with, Nick." Nick quickly turned away, uncomfortable at the statement, particularly as he had lied or otherwise broken the law countless times. He didn't even always follow the rules as a detective--and Schanke knew it. "So, ah, when are you going to leave Austin?" Schanke prodded, not wanting Nick to shut him out. "As soon as possible. We'll stay a few days, at most; and then we'll probably resume trying to stay out of sight for however long we feel is necessary." Schanke fidgeted slightly at the 'we' reference. Nick was of course talking about LaCroix and Janette. Faintly, he wondered if Nick had ever kept in contact with humans like himself for long. He suspected not, but now things might be different. In the past, he could guess that Nick likely told very few mortals what he was. But then, Nick and his kind would now be watched closely wherever they were seen. He couldn't blame Nick for wanting to keep hidden and out of sight for a while, really. "I do have a favour to ask, Schanke...something you could do before you leave." "Name it," Schanke said without a hint of hesitation. Downward Spiral - (26/27) Early the following night, LaCroix narrowed his eyes at his son as the younger nervously sat down. Nick had dressed and appeared to be planning to go somewhere. While the younger was stronger than when he had left the hospital that morning, LaCroix still sensed weakness in the other. Janette also sensed Nick had something planned--as well as LaCroix' annoyance that Nick had said nothing of it. As such, she purposely stayed out of LaCroix' way. After a few minutes, Nick stood and started silently for the hotel room door, but LaCroix appeared in his path, stopping him. "Move, LaCroix." "Not until you tell me where you are going." Nick glared at the other. "I am going to meet the FBI agents that are working with the local detectives." Seeing LaCroix preparing to comment, Nick explained, "I'm sure they would like a statement from me; I am merely giving them the opportunity to get it." LaCroix didn't comment; nor did he move out of Nick's way. "I have to leave now, LaCroix. Come with me and stay nearby, if you're that concerned." Nick roughly pushed past LaCroix, but wasn't stopped as he left, leaving the door open. LaCroix closed his eyes, trying to hold back his anger. His son did not have to do this. It was merely added danger and stress, neither of which Nick needed right now. But if the younger man were determined to do this, he would see to it that nothing more happened. He turned to leave, but sensed Janette approaching as he reached the still open door. "Stay, Janette," he hissed, and then left. Nick stayed ahead of LaCroix, who he knew had decided to follow him. Arriving at the precinct Detectives Metzger and Bryant worked at--a location he had suspected would be relatively safe--Nick tensed and landed on the roof of the building across the street. Reporters were gathered around the precinct. They knew he was coming. As LaCroix landed next to him, Nick simply gave him a glance and then flew down to a shadowed area next to the building. Scanning the mortals, he felt somewhat better seeing Metzger standing outside, apparently looking for him. But, still, he would have to pass through the reporters. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he started purposely across the street and toward the precinct's entrance. He ignored the reporters outright, saying nothing and not meeting even one of their gazes. He also didn't drop his focus, instead concentrating on the building and getting inside. Metzger stepped behind Nick as he reached the front doors and followed Nick inside. "I don't know how they found out," he whispered. "We didn't leak it." Nick didn't reply. He had a suspicion that the FBI was the source of the leak, probably hoping to get him to talk to them. But that's not what he was there for. He was there to give a statement and answer questions regarding what happened to him. Walking further inside, Nick slowed as all activity stopped. He let Metzger walk ahead of him and take him wherever he was meeting the FBI agents. He could feel the mortals' fear as he walked through the main part of the precinct. Arriving at the first of the station's interview rooms, Metzger told Nick, "I'm not sure what they're planning on asking, but two other agents arrived a couple of hours ago." Nick nodded, at which the detective first knocked on the door, and then pushed it inside. Slowly, Nick stepped into the room, keeping his eyes focused on the two men. One of them was waiting just inside the door, and Nick gave him only a quick glance. The other man, who was sitting at the table, gestured to the chair across from him. After Nick sat down, the man he was now sitting across from slid a file toward him. Nick's attention shifted toward door as it clicked shut. "We were somewhat surprised you volunteered to meet us." Nick turned back to the man sitting across from him, who had spoken, their gazes meeting. "And I'm surprised you took the offer." "It wasn't expected. When you vanished from the hospital early this morning, we didn't expect to hear from you again. And then your old partner contacted us through the Austin police." "And?" Nick leaned stiffly back. "If you want a statement or have questions related to any events that occurred since my arrival in Austin, I suggest you ask them." The second agent approached the table. "I suspect you'd like our names?" Nick looked to the other agent. "It would be courteous, given you know mine." "I am John Diaz and my partner is Allan Crawford." "FBI?" "Yes," Diaz answered. "Department?" "That hasn't been determined, yet." "So your job is to deal with my kind, then." Nick looked away, neither expecting nor needing an answer. Crawford then questioned Nick about his so-called kidnapping, giving an overview of what they knew from Austin police and asking if that information was correct. Nick didn't make any move to comment as the agents had merely related his capture along with his condition when they found him. They had answered their own question. "Okay," Crawford started, his voice becoming somewhat stiff. "I'll take that as an affirmation. Now, what do you remember from while you were held? What did they do or say? Anything about the other being held there?" Abruptly, Nick's attention snapped firmly toward Crawford. "What other?" Crawford opened the file folder sitting in front of him and pushed a photo across the table. Nick looked at it. All that was visible was a dusting of ashes and a near-circular metal blade. "Found that in the cell next to you. Same device they tried to kill you with." Nick pushed the photograph back toward the agent. "I wasn't aware that they were holding another vampire." Then, after a pause, Nick answered the initial question, "I woke up, was shot, and recovered only to be shot again and was then drugged." "Were you conscious at all?" "Yes. I later woke to find more samples were being taken. I was sedated again, but also given a unit of blood." After several seconds of silence, Diaz prodded, "And?" "And I remained dazed until several men held me down, after which the next thing I recalled was waking up in the hospital." "Mark Evans," Crawford abruptly asked, meeting Nick's hard gaze as he changed the focus of their conversation. "You've met him." "I saw him, yeah. And?" "And we would like you to help us," Diaz answered. Nick stood up, glaring at the two men. "He's in your custody." "And he's been silent." Faintly shaking his head, Nick stated, "I can't help you." Diaz smiled and watched Nick tense. "We think you can. We've seen your records with the Toronto Police." "Quite the interrogator," Crawford stated. Nick turned, resisting the urge to pace. As he did so, he shifted his gaze to the back wall, only to find himself staring into a mirror. On the other side, he sensed two mortals watching. This was why the FBI was here. They didn't care about his statement--they already knew what happened. He narrowed his eyes, then diverted his attention so that he was facing the far wall. "Although we are curious if it's true that your kind can...hypnotise humans?" Crawford started. When Nick didn't react, he continued, "After all, perhaps much of your skill as an interrogator stems from years of practise as a cop?" "That's why you came here; he's not talking. You don't want or need a statement from me," Nick stated, stiffening. "Evans is...reluctant," Crawford admitted. Nick turned toward Crawford. In addition to a hint of fear, he could see a trace of embarrassment just under the surface of the mortal's hard exterior. They didn't want to come to him. Slowly, he said, "You want me to see what I can pry out of him...." "If you can." His curiosity mildly piqued, Nick asked, "And just why should I help you? What is it you want to know from him?" "We want any and all information he knows about activities of ex-IVEA agents and current hunters." Diaz paused, stalling, not thrilled about having to persuade this vampire, this man, to help them. "There are several laws in various stages of enactment. One makes killing, hunting, or otherwise endangering vampires for unsubstantiated reasons illegal in the US. Other countries are preparing similar laws, but the majority of hunters appear to be operating from North America. We want to find as many as we can before they further disorganise and form smaller, autonomous groups." When Nick didn't comment, Crawford pointed out, "It is beneficial to your kind to help us. I'm sure you can see that." Nick again looked away, pacing slightly. This was something he hadn't expected, not at all. Crawford stood and, once Nick's attention had settled on him, he stated, "Be at the FBI office in San Antonio at 6 a.m., or don't. It's your choice." "That's less than an hour before dawn," Nick commented. Sensing the vampire's annoyance at the time, Crawford explained, "It should give you plenty of time to question him, if needed." Stiffly, Nick averted his gaze, listening as Crawford picked up the file and left with what he assumed was his partner. As the door shut, he sensed as the two mortals in the adjoining room also left. Only once Nick was sure they weren't lingering, waiting for him, did he leave the interview room. He met Detective Metzger's gaze, but just long enough to give a slight nod before he headed toward the front entrance. Nick once again passed through the mortals and, exiting the building, found it harder to face the mortals. He would have flown off right there, but didn't want to give the mortals yet another thing to broadcast. And they would, as no vampire had yet been recorded flying in public. Instead, he headed through them, his mind lingering a bit longer on their questions. They knew he had spoken with FBI agents; but it was also clear they hadn't gotten any answers from Crawford or the others. Finally free of the mortals, Nick fought the urge to shut his eyes and pause for a moment. Being completely surrounded by so many warm bodies had triggered his hunger, and if he lingered any longer they would surely catch a second of his golden gaze. He quickly started for the building's corner and, as soon as he turned it, took to the air. Nick flew several blocks before landing in a tree-heavy park. Seconds later, after LaCroix arrived, Nick explained, "They want me to 'interview' one of the hunters." "You won't, of course." Nick had known LaCroix would disapprove. And hearing it did nothing to help him decide. "I don't know." "But you're considering it. You can't be serious," LaCroix hissed, hoping this was just a thought, a whim. "It could be useful to us, for vampires." Nick paused, gathering his thoughts. "If they get the information they want, they'll be able to stop far more of those hunting us." LaCroix closed his eyes and took several steps away from the younger man. "When?" he demanded, spinning back around. "This morning; 6 a.m. in San Antonio." "You'll have to stay the day with them." "I know." Nick walked over to one of the trees. Turning, he leaned against the trunk. "That's what I'm not sure about." LaCroix' eyes glowed amber with anger. "Stay here. I'll get Janette." Nick stood and flew toward LaCroix, taking his arm. "LaCroix--" "We'll leave for San Antonio. You can decide there." LaCroix pulled away from Nick and headed back to the hotel. Downward Spiral - (27/27) Come six the following morning, Nick hesitated, staying out of sight. There was no one in front of the FBI office. The question was, did he really want to do this? And what else would they ask of him? "Yes, or no?" LaCroix asked, moving to stand behind Nick. "You must decide." Nick nodded. "I'm going." And then, after a short pause, Nick glanced both ways down the street and slowly made his way out among the few mortals on the sidewalk. Crossing, Nick approached the front of the FBI office at which Agent Diaz came out the front doors and walked over to him. Agent Crawford held the door open, apparently waiting for them. Trying to relax, Nick walked ahead of Diaz into the building. Inside, Nick was surprised to find the building nearly empty. True, it was before office hours, but with him coming he had suspected more people would have been present. "We're going to the second floor," Crawford said, taking him through security and pushing the button for an elevator. As the doors opened and he stepped in followed by Nick and Diaz, Crawford stated, "We only have one rule for you: You keep your distance. You don't touch him, for any reason." The elevator doors slid shut. "You injure him in any way; he's not happy, we're not happy, and you won't be happy." As the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, Diaz got off, but Nick hesitated. Seeing this, Diaz asked, "What?" "Nothing," Nick muttered, keeping a tight control on his anger. After several seconds, he followed the agent. They walked to the end of the hall, at which Crawford noted, "Your conversation is being recorded, both audio and video. If he asks why you are here, you are aiding us in an official capacity; say nothing more than that." A bit annoyed by all the 'suggestions', Nick decided it was best not to argue lest he make these agents change their mind about having a vampire help them. Would he do as they were asking? He wasn't sure of that, only knowing that his hatred of mortal hunters was currently high...and Evans was certainly a hunter. Crawford opened the door, pushing it inward. Instead of entering the room, however, he remained in the hall and gestured with his hand for Nick to proceed. Nick slowly walked into the room, hearing the door shut behind him. He didn't have to turn around to know that the two agents had stayed in the hall, leaving him alone with Evans. He was faintly surprised by that, but his expression remained cold and fixed entirely on the mortal before him. Evans, his arm in a cast and a sling, remained extraordinarily calm as the other approached the table and the chair directly across from him. Nick rested his hands on the top edge of the chair's back, his gaze not shifting. "This must be hard for you," Nick stated, smiling at the irony compared to just a few days earlier. When Evans smiled faintly back, giving the impression that he wasn't going to cooperate, Nick gave a quick flash of his fangs. As intended, the action upped Evans' heart rate, and Nick let his expression go completely serious. "I'd suggest you start talking." "You can't make me. Not without damaging your facade." Evans smiled, declaring, "You can't touch me." "Maybe not. *But you will answer my questions.*" Evans sat completely still for several seconds. Then, as an odd and oppressing sensation crept up on him as he focused on Nick, he shook the feeling off before he once again smiled. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Barely more than an hour later, after mostly useless questions and prodding, Nick had to take a break. He had quickly discovered that Evans was particularly resistant to his abilities, and he was growing tired. There were now far more mortals in the building, which made regrouping his thoughts difficult. He was somewhat thankful Diaz and Crawford had allowed him to use one of the conference rooms to rest in with few interruptions. The door abruptly opened behind him, snapping Nick out of his thoughts. He turned, only to find agents Diaz and Crawford entering, the latter shutting the door loudly behind him. Nick stiffened as the agent sat what was clearly his Toronto Police badge and weapon on the table. "Last night, Detective Metzger told us that he gave LaCroix both his and the remainder of your things. LaCroix left those behind." Nick shook his head, looking away from the items. "Return them to Toronto. I doubt I'll be going back there for some time and they're no longer of use." Diaz nodded, taking the two items. Then, he stated, "You were seen arriving this morning." "And?" Nick asked, not looking to Diaz. Stepping toward the table, Crawford leaned forward on the surface so that he could look directly at Nick. "And you've gotten nothing out of Evans," he stated, straightening and walking away. "Maybe you can't do what you're here for. Maybe you never could." "Is that what you think?" Nick started, standing and walking toward the agent. Sensing Crawford needed a demonstration, he then turned his attention back to Diaz, his eyes sparkling with a hint of pleasure. "*You haven't had enough coffee this morning. You will get yourself and your friend, here, some hot, fresh, coffee. You think some fresh air is in order, and so you will go down the street.*" Nick stopped, his lips twisting into a smile at the glazed look on the agent. Diaz was, thankfully, far from being a resistor. Not showing any sign of shaking the suggestion off, Diaz muttered, "Coffee," as he turned and left. Turning toward a stunned Crawford, Nick asked, "Satisfied?" Hesitating, his attention drifting toward the door, Crawford commented, "He doesn't drink coffee." "Then I suppose you should mention that to him when he returns?" Nick replied, still grinning. Crawford's eyes narrowed, his distrust rising and shock wearing off. "If you can do that to Diaz, why haven't you been able to get Evans to spill it?" "Some humans are more susceptible than others." "And those that aren't as susceptible?" "Can't be given a...complete, permanent suggestion." "Which means?" Crawford demanded, stepping toward Nick. "I'll have to change tactics." Nick sat back down and leaned back in the chair. Although he was particularly tired, he closed his eyes as he rested his hands in front of him, hoping Crawford would get the hint and leave. Almost two minutes later, Crawford finally left, shutting the door sharply in frustration. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Once Nick was sure plenty of time had passed, specifically enough time that Evans would be growing tired from waiting, he went to Crawford and Diaz's office. Getting the go ahead to again question Evans, Nick re-entered the interview room. The mortal's anger teased his hunger, at which Nick allowed his nature to subtlety take over. Fluidly, he walked to the table and pulled the chair out. He kept his eyes focused fully on Evans, his gaze not wavering in the slightest. Sitting down, Nick leaned back in the chair and relaxed. "*You're tired of this.*" "Yes. Of course I am. It's useless." "*No, not useless. But it is a waste of time. Both our time.*" Nick paused, trying to keep his expression neutral. "You do know you'll just be questioned later. Or they'll find someone else. *And do you think they'll be as gentle as I am now?*" Evans went completely silent. His eyes belied neither fear nor arrogance. "*The FBI knows where your kind operates. They'll hunt you just as you hunt my kind.*" "And? Why should that concern me?" Nick paused, thinking for a moment. That's what Evans needed--a reason to make this seem beneficial. Nick's eyes flashed gold, but only for a second. "*You want a reason to cooperate?*" Stopping, smiling slightly as the other waited, expectantly, Nick then asked, "*What is better? Attention drawn to the FBI for shutting your kind down quickly, or the very likely blood-tainted news as your people are slowly arrested?*" Again pleased that Evans remained silent, he continued, "*Do you have a purpose, or are you just a crazed fanatic? What about the others? Fanatical hunters don't make good press, Evans. Your kind could use some boost of your image. Of course, you're one of the fanatics, aren't you?*" Evans looked away. He had asked for a reason and that's what he got. "And if I cooperate?" "You'll have to arrange that with the FBI." Nick then stood and pushed his chair in, letting a bit of his hatred for this man to surface. Then, he left. Once the door was pulled shut behind him, Nick closed his eyes. Influencing someone without making it too obvious was far more draining than he remembered. Crawford and Diaz appeared from down the hall, the first commenting, "That was impressive, especially after earlier." "You still have to convince him it's worth it. And take care what you say. He may or may not have realised my influence." Nick turned, planning to walk back to the other room, but felt a hand on his arm. Turning toward Diaz, he let his eyes glow amber. "I've done what you wanted," he hissed, pulling out of the light grip. Diaz didn't break eye contact with the vampire. "And sunset is hours away." "And?" Nick demanded, his gaze remaining icy. "Are you suggesting that I am not allowed to leave before then?" "No," Diaz answered. "You can leave now, although I doubt that will help you avoid the reporters outside." Nick fought against his frustration, as well as his growing hunger and tiredness. He wanted to leave, but if there were reporters outside it would be difficult. He would have to wait until sunset, unless he wanted to risk being both seen and followed. As another mortal approached them in the hall, Nick closed his eyes, holding back his annoyance. "We will have to give a statement for why you were here," Crawford stated. "Then do so." Nick turned to head back to the other room, but Crawford stopped him. As the vampire pulled out of his grip, Crawford stated, "You were never cleared of Dr. Lambert's death." "And?" Nick asked, hissing the word at the agent. He was hungry and did not wish to be questioned about Natalie's death. It was still far too fresh, the last months having passed so quickly. Firmly, Nick told Crawford, "I didn't kill her." Crawford hesitated, not expecting the other's reaction. "We are aware of that," he started, and then explained, "If you'd like, we will clear your name of her death when we make a statement." Nick relaxed slightly. They wanted to clear his name? In the back of his mind, his thoughts hooked on whatever reason he could think of...but when it came down to it, it was for their benefit. By clearing him, it would make their reasoning for having a vampire help them easier for the population at large to digest. His anger again rising, Nick told them, "Tell them whatever you want," and headed down the hall and back to the conference room, wanting to be alone. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Meeting up with LaCroix and Janette a couple of hours after the sun had set, Nick barely gave either of them a glance. While Janette seemed concerned, he could feel conflicting emotions from LaCroix. Abruptly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and tried to turn around. "Stay still," LaCroix hissed. He then pulled Nick's collar down to see how the scar was progressing, at which he faintly smiled and commented, "It's healing quite well. I suspect it'll be completely gone within the next day or two." Nick roughly pulled away from LaCroix, not wanting to think about this right now. Why couldn't LaCroix wait? As he again felt LaCroix' hand on his shoulder, the touch this time far lighter, Nick immediately took off. Landing in a quiet residential area several miles away, Nick paused on the edge of two properties. As the other two arrived, he was glad that Janette remained silent, but he sensed that LaCroix was not going to leave him alone. Watching his son walk away from him, his motions sluggish, LaCroix commented, "You are tired." "And?" Nick snapped. He was tired and really didn't feel like talking right now. Staying up all day had drained him of energy, even with sleeping some the previous night. "And I think it would be best to remain here for the night, feed, and then leave tomorrow." Stopping, Nick closed his eyes, bowed his head, and nodded slightly. Only when Janette approached and wrapped her arms around him did he relax. He leaned back into the comforting embrace. Nick remained in place for several minutes, basking in Janette's silence and their calm surroundings. Suddenly, at the edge of his senses, Nick's peace was interrupted by snippets of news coming from a nearby house. Already fully aware of what would likely be broadcast and wanting quiet, Nick abruptly flew off. Janette left with Nick, but LaCroix lingered behind. He, too, had noticed the slight disruption. Closing his eyes, LaCroix focused on what was apparently a news broadcast: "--was seen this morning arriving at the San Antonio FBI offices. Throughout the day, questions regarding Brabant's clearly expected presence were not answered. Just after sunset this evening, FBI Special Agent Allan Crawford issued a statement, calling the meeting a request by the FBI for clarification. When asked the topic of conversation, Agent Crawford told reporters, "Mr. Brabant merely gave us an official statement on his recent kidnapping and other experiences. We also questioned him for clarification of the events surrounding Dr. Lambert's death in May of this year." The FBI has refused to detail anything more, although they did state that the FBI discovered files containing "condemning evidence that the then IVEA was behind Dr. Lambert's death," and that "Brabant has been officially cleared of all suspicion in the case." Brabant was not seen leaving the building this evening, but Agent Crawford stated that he left at sunset." Hearing the reporter shift to related news, specifically various new laws and amendments in congress that pertained to vampires, LaCroix started slowly walking in the direction that his son had headed with a smile gracing his lips. The younger vampire was hungry and heading out of the city. Later, he would have to tell his son he had nothing to worry about, that the broadcast had been benign. First, however, they needed to feed. And once they were rested, then would come deciding where to leave for the following night. Finis Hope you enjoyed the story! Any comments, suggestions, gifts of chocolate, cures for sun sensitivity, vampires, job offers, etc., more than welcome! As a note, no infringement or other harm is intended to the real KLEW, which is actually in Lewiston, ID. Just thought it'd be interesting to use instead of making something up from random. :P jarvinia@gmx.com http://gryffonslair.com @>--,---`---