The Bargain

Nick still had trouble getting used to the day shifts he'd pulled since feigning a miraculous cure of his allergy to the sun. Schanke had been only too happy to make the switch, and Nick found that Schanke kept him amused enough to forget his pain, if only temporarily. Nick had left the sunglasses on, and as he drove up to the precinct, Schanke was ready with his usual cracks.

"Gee, don't you look like a regular movie star in the dark shades and convertible." He hopped into the passenger seat. "Partner, I dare say you're sunburned. Where were you, today?"

Nick's slight smile faded. "At the cemetery. Today was Nat's birthday. I...wanted to stay there with her for a while."

Schanke became somber. "Man, oh, man, it's been a year and a half and I still can't believe it. Poor Natalie."

Nick swallowed. "Yeah." He began to drive.

Schanke's tone became confidential. "Look, Nick, as a friend, there's something I've gotta say. I know how you feel, but--"

"I don't think you have any idea," Nick replied in a hoarse voice.

"Yeah, I do. I've got two eyes. I always knew there was something between you two. Who knows? If she'd lived--" He cut himself off, as Nick shot him a glance. Even Schanke realized he'd been heading in a forbidden direction. He tried another tact. "Nick, the truth is, life has to go on. I don't think she'd want you to mourn like this. You've got to get out a little--"

"What are you trying to say, Schank?" he snapped.

"That you're a young guy, and you've got to try to find some happiness for yourself."

If only Schanke knew how long he'd searched for that very thing!

Schanke paused for a moment, as if waiting until he thought it seemed safe, then said, "Have you noticed that hot little number that joined the precinct last month? Officer Vento? I think her name is Dina."

"What about her?" Nick asked coldly.

"Well, she's been asking me lots of questions...I think she's interested."

"Tell her you're married," he replied blandly.

"Very funny," Schanke replied, encouraged at his partner's slight sense of humor. "Come on, Nick, you know what I mean. She's always going over to talk to you--"

"Police business, Schank. That's all."

"Nick," he persisted, "Look at it this way. Could it hurt? If anything, wouldn't it do you good to try to forget?"

Anger welled in him. "Do you really think that I can forget her, Schank? Just like that? Do you think I even want to?!"

Schanke shook his head. "Nick, I'm not saying to forget Nat. You never will. But you can forget the pain, make it go away, even if just for a little while. Think about it."

And this time Nick was silent. For as much as Schanke had infuriated him, in one thing he was correct. Nick did want to ease the pain. For if not, it would surely drive him mad.

Natalie awoke to see the full moon shining brilliantly through the open shades of her hotel room. It unnerved her at once to know that LaCroix had been in her room while she'd been sleeping. But fortunately, in all the various ways he had found to torture her, rape had not yet been one of them. Thank God for small miracles.

She rose, showered, and slipped on the night shirt and sweats that made her most comfortable. And when she walked out into the suite, LaCroix was there to greet her with his eyebrow raised.

"Not quite dressed for hunting tonight, are you? I dare say that low-cut red dress of yours works wonders at attracting prey."

She barely glanced at him as she headed into the kitchen area, reaching for the bottle in the mini-refrigerator. "I think I'll eat in tonight, if you don't mind."

"Ah, but I do mind," he said as he swooped in front of her, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about that," she said steadily. She turned from him, pouring herself a glass of the animal blood that she'd procured for herself in large supply.

LaCroix was silently furious for a long moment. But he'd learned that his newest fledgling was not at all afraid of him. She'd resigned herself to a life she'd accepted. But he knew from reading her feelings that her despair was such that she'd most likely welcome it if he were to end her suffering. To control her had therefore become quite a challenge. He decided upon another approach.

"Natalie, I was hoping that we could go to the theater--or the symphony--we haven't done that in quite a while."

She shook her head, then looked at him, a weariness in her eyes. "LaCroix, after last night--I don't feel up to it."

"You enjoyed the kill," he told her, savoring it vicariously as he had the night before. "There's nothing wrong with that. It's your nature."

"No. Not my nature. And I can't do it any more." She picked up the wine glass. "I can get all I need right out of a bottle. I may have agreed to become this thing you've made me--but I never agreed to kill."

"So instead you'll drink animal blood like your friend Nicholas," he said angrily.

She shivered inadvertently as LaCroix spoke his name, and cursed herself silently for once more reminding LaCroix of the only weapon he could use against her--if he dared to break their bargain.

"I suppose next you'll begin looking for a cure? Well, you know better, Natalie. There is none!"

And with those bitter words he disappeared through their window into the night.

Natalie sighed with relief to see him go. At least now she could have some peace. She refilled her glass with cow's blood, understanding how Nick had felt so much more at ease drinking it than the blood of humans. It was a diet she would adhere to now as well. Diet! Sort of like having diet soda, she thought to herself. It doesn't taste quite as good, but you feel a lot better about yourself drinking it.

"No cure," she mumbled into the air. And for a moment, with LaCroix gone, and her thoughts free, she found herself back in the place where she had found the cure...

Then....

The Danish scenery was much too beautiful to be shrouded in darkness for so many hours each day. Why on Earth hadn't the European Medical Society thought of that when they'd planned their Symposium for the dead of winter? Yet Natalie couldn't complain. Cold and dark as the afternoons were here, it had been an honor to be invited to speak. Besides, an all-expense-paid trip to anywhere was a welcome change from the stress of her daily grind.

Yet her thoughts kept returning to Nick--and he had certainly given her a great deal to think about, hadn't he? Mixed with the worry over his condition was the excitement over the new direction their relationship might soon take. If only there had been some way for him to be with her here, in a land where they could spend most of the day outside in the world of the living. She thought again of the look in his eyes when he'd admitted he'd actually checked into evening flights...

She knew now without a doubt that the feelings she'd had for him all this time were mutual. It was his desire for things he couldn't have as a vampire that had spurred his sudden yearning for a quick and complete recovery. She knew by his words, his touch, and the tenderness in his eyes, that she was part of that unattainable world he was trying so desperately to reach. And while the thought excited her, it frightened her as well. For while the first few days of his abstinence from blood had seemed to fill him with life, his health had begun to deteriorate within a week. She'd begged him to slow down, take even small amounts of blood to keep up his strength. But two and a half years of telling him, "cold turkey on the hemoglobin" had sunk in. And now she feared she had been wrong.

She'd encouraged him to stop for so long, that he saw any setback as a major failure. She'd given him hope, and, without realizing it until now, even a goal to work for. Yet it just wasn't working. In fact, he was becoming weaker every day. Like an anorexic, who abstained from food for so long that she could no longer even bear the sight of food, Nick had become as sickened by the taste of blood as by human nourishment.

Nick was starving himself to death. And she could provide him with no alternative, no other cure. As much as she wanted to help him--as much as she loved him...

...she'd failed him.

Back in her hotel room, the gloomy darkness would not clear morose thoughts from her mind. She checked her watch. What time was it in Toronto? Still daytime. He'd be home.

She dialed his number, holding her breath, disappointed as the machine picked up. "Nick, it's me, I just called to see how you are--"

"Nat?" The voice that answered was weak, but he was obviously glad to hear from her.

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

He paused. "Not bad. How was your speech? Did you knock 'em dead?"

She told him quickly about how it had gone. "Nick, what about you? Are you eating?"

Another pause. "I'm still having some trouble with my stomach, but...it'll pass. I'm sure."

"Nick," she said softly, her concern apparent.

"Maybe I just miss your cooking," he teased her, then became serious. "I miss you, Nat. I don't think I've ever gone this long without seeing you."

"I'll be home soon," she told him. "Take care of yourself, okay? I'm not letting you forget that dinner."

"You too. I'll be waiting at the airport. Have a safe trip."

They said their good-byes, and as Natalie set down the receiver she remained pensive. As much as his tender words had warmed her, there was something terribly wrong with him.

She wished she could go home now! And even more, she wished she could find a way to help him!

She thought of the irony of spending four days at a European Pathologists' Conference. With all the diseases they had discussed, all the treatments and cures, there was one cure that still eluded her.

The cure for vampirism. Now imagine if she brought up that one! Would all these great minds be able to find an answer to that?

She thought about this more as she sat in the hotel bar, sipping a wine glass filled with White Zinfandel. All about her, pathologists from around the world were socializing as was customary at these conferences. In the past, it was something she had enjoyed, but right now, she was only interested in passing time until her flight.

Suddenly, she became aware of a young man staring at her. Under different circumstances, she might have found him attractive, with his dark hair and piercing eyes, set against a skin that was almost as pale as Nick's...But that was it, wasn't it? For the last few months her interest in anyone but Nick had waned. She smiled to herself to think that perhaps she hadn't wasted her efforts as much as she'd thought...

"Hello." The young man was slipping into the seat next to her before she even realized it. Ugh, I really don't want to have to deal with this now!

"Dr. Lambert, may I join you? Dr. John Cromwell," he introduced himself with a thick British accent. "I'm a Forensic Pathologist in London."

Natalie smiled, a bit relieved that his approach was on a professional level. "Pleased to meet you, Dr. Cromwell."

"John, please."

"Natalie."

"I so enjoyed your presentation. I must tell you that generally I find these things terribly tedious, but you made some quite valid points I'd never considered."

"Thank you," she replied. "So, why do you come if you don't really enjoy these conferences? The chance to travel?"

"Research, actually. Not exactly anything related to my work, but rather a hobby of mine. I study ancient pathologies. The cures used by the Egyptians, as well as the early civilizations in Mesopotamia, for example, often went far beyond what we would have expected for the time period. There's some indications that the Phoenicians might even have had a cure for cancer--" He paused, realizing that he was getting involved. "Oh, I'm sorry, I do go on."

"No, that's okay, I find the whole thing very interesting," she said earnestly. "What do you hope to find in Denmark?"

"Currently I'm researching some of the medical beliefs of the pre-Indo-Europeans. It's fascinating how their cures were so heavily steeped in their religious beliefs. Much like the civilizations in the Tigris-Euphrates area."

Natalie listened, fascinated, as he described some of the discoveries he'd made. In the next hour she learned much about him--his background in ancient languages, as well as a paper he'd published on possible treatments for AIDS that might be derived from Egyptian elixirs used to boost the immune system. But it wasn't until about midnight, and maybe four glasses of wine later, that a totally impossible idea occurred to her.

"John, have you ever come across an ancient book called the Abarat?"

She tried not to make it obvious how important this question was to her. But she couldn't help but take in a short breath as he responded.

"Why, of course," he said at once, although by his expression she knew that she had taken him off guard. "I must admit that I'm quite impressed that you would have even heard of it. It's much more obscure than the Necronomicon, or other books of the sort."

"Oh, well, my best friend is really interested in the occult," she supplied quickly. "and told me that it had all kinds of strange rituals, like--what was it? Let me think. Oh, yes, there was something about a cure for vampirism..."

Natalie knew she was a terrible liar, and she was relieved when John laughed.

"What rubbish! Don't tell me this friend of yours actually believes in vampires!"

"He's a policeman--not very intellectual, you know."

"I'm surprised you would have anything in common with him, then," Cromwell replied.

Natalie smiled sweetly. "Oh, he's got his good points."

"Well, we all have our vagaries. I must say, most of my colleagues think I'm wasting my time."

Natalie could easily see how most of the medical community would probably view Cromwell as a crackpot--but then, what would they think of her trying to make a vampire human? "Then, the Abarat--you've seen it?" she asked, trying to get back to the subject.

Cromwell shook his head. "No, but I do know that there were several copies. I'll tell you what--tomorrow I was going to skip the conferences to go to the University Library. It's supposedly quite extensive. Would you like to come along? Maybe I could help you find something for your friend."

Natalie tried to conceal her excitement as she agreed to meet him the next day, then excused herself to get a good night's sleep. In her room once more, she had to fight the urge to call Nick. This could be the cure!

But it might not be. And she would tell him nothing until she was sure.

The library system at the University was huge, and Natalie was grateful for John's knowledge of Danish, among other languages. They'd spent six hours searching through catalogs, computer records, and shelves. Their efforts were to no avail. And Natalie began to curse herself for being so foolish as to think that she could find something by chance in one afternoon that Nick had searched for for centuries.

Finally, John turned to her in defeat. "I'm sorry, Natalie, I don't think it's here."

"John, please, why don't you ask someone. Maybe it's not catalogued..." She knew it was unlikely, but at this point she didn't even care if her desperation was obvious. If there were any chance...

The first young woman had never even heard of it. The second librarian, a middle-aged woman with horn-rimmed glasses, simply referred them back to the computer. Finally, Cromwell spoke to an old man who had to be in his seventies. They exchanged a few words in Danish, and suddenly John smiled. Natalie knew they'd hit pay dirt.

"There are some ancient volumes they don't even keep in circulation because they're so rare. The younger workers don't even know about them, but he's been here for fifty years, and he's seen it!"

Natalie held her breath and whispered a silent prayer as the old man led them to a small room in the library's basement, where the walls were lined with dusty tomes. After a few moments, he handed them an old book that looked to be falling to pieces. The old man gave them some instructions, then sat to wait while John looked through it.

"Can you read it?" Natalie asked anxiously, taking out her notebook. She knew that such rare books could not be photocopied. Whatever were the relevant passages, she'd have to copy them by hand.

Cromwell didn't answer as he flipped carefully through the pages. Finally, a look of satisfaction crossed his face, the expression of a scientist who'd just found the answer to a puzzle. "Here it is," he said, laying the book down gently. "This passage. It says, the cure to vampirism is quite simple, but requires one important element--"

"What is it?" she asked, holding her breath.

"The consent of the sire--the vampire that made the one who wishes to use the cure."

Natalie's heart fell, and she fought to conceal her despair. LaCroix's consent?! "What is the actual cure?" she asked steadily. She still had to know.

John skimmed the passage. "It says that you must take a chalice full of the blood of the sire--bring it to a boil, adding a clove of garlic. Lay the chalice outside as the sun begins to rise...and leave it there for a full day. At sunset the vampire who wishes to become human must consume this blood, or what's left of it." He looked up. "Seems simple enough. Imagine."

"Yes, very simple," Natalie mumbled. But she was already busy carefully copying the ritual.

Later, as she sat on the jet bound for Toronto, she considered what she should do. She knew the cure! But it required something that would be impossible to obtain--the consent of the very being who had pursued Nick for centuries precisely trying to keep him in the darkness. It was worse than having found no cure at all.

And for that reason, she would never tell Nick.

Now....

Natalie wondered now if she had made the right decision. Should she have told Nick immediately what she had learned? Had she had the right to make the decision herself, a decision that would affect both of them forever?

Her eyes began to burn with her own anger over what her life had become. But as she found solace in the blood, and in her knowledge that Nick was alive, and human, and would someday lead a happy life, she knew that it had been worth it.

If only she didn't know that her own pain would be eternal.

She lay the glass down on the table, stretching out on her bed once more. Back to sleep, and escape from her reality.

Schanke's words had affected Nick deeply. He couldn't help but wonder why he was finding it so difficult to get on with his life. He'd lost countless loved ones in the past.

But had it ever hurt so much?

He didn't think so.

Was it because he was human now? Were all his emotions more pronounced, his pain exacerbated by his mortality? Or had time been so meaningless before to him, that he truly didn't know when to stop grieving? All he knew was that he felt as if he would never stop, never recover from the loss of her.

Perhaps it was just Natalie, and the fact that she had meant more to him than anyone in the past eight hundred years.

He went over to the painting, gingerly pulling away the cloth that kept it hidden from the rest of the world. He'd painted it just a week after her death, before the realization had deadened his senses, when the memory of her large blue eyes, her flowing hair, and her alluring smile, had sustained the hope in him that it was only a nightmare from which he would awaken. How many times had he stared at her, and closed his eyes to feel her there with him? Had it been his imagination, or had he felt her spirit close to him? He didn't know.

How could Schanke expect him to forget? And yet, he knew that his own happiness had been paramount to Natalie. Always. What would she say to see him now, suffering, refusing to live?

His life would be short now. And he knew that it would pain her to know that he was not living it to the fullest, experiencing all that he had dreamed of...

Yet she had been a part of his dreams. Could he find peace, could he attain happiness, without her?

I'll try, Natalie, he said softly. For you.

"I guarantee, Dina. Trust me." Schanke's tone was confidential as he spoke to the pretty brunette officer.

Dina Vento shook her head dubiously. "Schanke, I tell you, he's not interested."

"Look, he's been through a rough time," Schanke explained. "He lost someone he was very close to, and, well, you know‑‑he just needs a little push."

"Maybe he doesn't want to be pushed," she replied dryly.

"He does. I know him better than anybody." He paused, looking up as his partner entered the precinct. He lowered his voice. "Look, there he is. This is your chance. Really. Go ahead. Ask him."

The young woman took a deep breath as the veteran officer nearly thrust her in the direction of Nick Knight. Schanke was an incredible busy‑body, but she could tell that his intentions were good. Besides, Detective Knight had caught her eye from day One. A gorgeous guy like that, who was straight and unattached? It seemed too good to be true. There had to be something wrong with him! But it was worth a try.

"Nick?"

He looked up at her with those blue eyes, and that smile that could melt an iceberg. Yes, definitely worth a try. "Uh, I was wondering if you're doing anything later‑‑after the shift‑‑I thought maybe we could grab a bite to eat."

He seemed to think a moment, but finally answered, "Sure. That would be fun."

Dina smiled at him, almost too surprised to reply. She'd thought of all the tactful answers if his response had been no, but this caught her totally off guard.

And in the corner of her eye, she could see Schanke watching with a look of satisfaction on his face.

The late‑night snack had been nowhere near as difficult as he'd thought it would be. Dina had turned out to be enjoyable company, with a quick wit and an easy‑going temperament. Though not as intelligent or educated as he would have liked, she was fun to be with, and she did manage to take his mind off of his pain for the evening.

He'd driven her to her apartment, on the other side of town. When she seemed surprised at his offer to walk her to the door, he couldn't help but wonder what type of men she'd been used to.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?" she asked innocuously. But he knew there was more to the invitation than a hot cup of coffee.

"Id better be going," he told her, feeling awkward at the disappointment on her face. "Look, Dina, I had a nice time. I'd like to get together again‑‑if you would."

She smiled, and before he knew it she was answering with a kiss. To his own surprise, he felt himself responding. So long since he had kissed someone without the worry of his vampire emerging...

Yet his pleasure was overshadowed by guilt‑‑a sense of betrayal. He separated from her. "I'll...see you tomorrow at work."

And as he drove home, it was with mixed feelings.

Nick could not know that his evening had been closely monitored. For as a human, he no longer felt the bond which had always alerted him to the presence of LaCroix.

LaCroix had seen everything. And his smile was sinister as he realized how nicely things were all falling into place.

Natalie hadn't even realized that she'd drunk an entire bottle of blood. It seemed that her hunger was insatiable, and she thought grimly of what LaCroix had once taught her--that animal blood would only minimally sustain them. Human blood alone would completely satisfy their needs. At the time, she'd thought he was lying, merely trying to train her in the lifestyle that was his. But to her horror, she'd learned that it was true.

When she'd first been brought over, she'd resisted his urging to kill. But LaCroix had taken from her the animal blood she'd procured, starving her to the point of frenzy. And when he'd brought her to the park that fateful night, hunger had overtaken her, and a homeless man had become her first victim. The taste had been so sweet, the blood invigorating her, bringing her to an ecstasy that was beyond words. In that moment, her despair had flooded from her as swiftly as her hunger, and she had felt truly free.

But her joy had been short-lived. For as the realization of her heinous act had hit her, she'd sunken into a depression the depths of which she'd never imagined possible. Even LaCroix had left her to herself, seeing that his constant harassment would not persuade her to kill again. Finally, one morning, as she lay quietly on the bed, weakened by two weeks of abstinence, LaCroix had entered her room silently, placing a bottle at her bedside. It had been human, true. But she'd been grateful to see that for the time being, at least, he would not push her again.

Then how had last night happened?

Had it been a moment of weakness, of resignation? Had it been the fact that the cow's blood simply did not satisfy the hunger that seemed to always burn inside of her? She wasn't sure. But the young man in the cafe had seemed so appealing, drawing her to him in ways she didn't fully understand. He'd asked her to take a walk. Had she known what she would do? Probably. Why hadn't she cared? Why hadn't she stopped herself?

He'd begun to kiss her, and her first instinct was that she didn't want this, not with him. A vision of Nick had crossed her mind, as she'd remembered the last night she'd spent with him before LaCroix had taken her away. And as she'd imagined Nick's lips gently caressing her, his arms wrapping around her, the hunger became unbearable. Before she'd realized it, she'd sunken her teeth into the young man's neck, drinking urgently as the warm blood flowed past her lips...

LaCroix's words of encouragement made her own shame almost too much to bear. Perhaps that was why she could not think of going anywhere with him tonight. He must think I can do it now, that I'll do it again. I won't! I can't!

The image of the young man lying dead before her would live with her forever. The first time she had killed, she had been inexperienced, young, starving, uncontrolled. The second time, she'd done it for the pure ecstasy, the hunger.

The thought was more than she could stand.

With new resolve, she tore open another bottle. She'd have her fill, no matter how much it took. And she would never again allow LaCroix, or the curse he had given her, to make her lose control.

It was dawn. LaCroix had reached the safety of the hotel suite just moments before the rising sun could touch him with its deadly rays. The kill had been so good tonight...yet he knew that in this day and age, cleaning up after one's meal was more trouble than it was worth. They'd soon have to move on. In the meantime, a visit to Janette would not be a bad idea. Allowing her to maintain the facade of a life in that dull little club of hers did have its advantages, such as the endless supply of blood that she could provide through her varying sources. Yes, Janette did come in handy.

With the swift and almost imperceptible moves of a cat, he stole into Natalie's bedroom, heedless of the closed door. There she lay, asleep beside a table filled with empty bottles of that putrid swill that she was trying once more to live on. He shouldn't care. She was serving her purpose, and would help him to bring his plan to its ultimate conclusion.

But he did care. And the very fact that he did perturbed him to no end.

Natalie Lambert had been a tool, a means to a greater end. At least, that had been his intention. Yet Natalie had become much more. Strong, intelligent, and, most importantly, unafraid of him, Natalie had proven a real challenge.

And he did like a good challenge.

He'd really begun to appreciate what Nicholas must have seen in her, besides her beauty. There was so much more. And LaCroix had come to the realization that Natalie could be more to him than a tool.

She could be a companion.

So his plan had changed, or rather taken on a new twist. Through Natalie he would bring Nicholas back to the fold. But in doing so, he would make Natalie part of their family as well.

She had real potential. He had seen it last night, in the finesse of her kill. And with the turn that events had taken, he would see it again very soon.

Oblivious to the machinations of her sire, Natalie had found peace once more in dreams. This was her private world, away from LaCroix, away from the guilt of what he had brought her to...

Then....

He met her at the airport, waiting anxiously for her at the gate. She gave him a big smile as she saw him, but her smile quickly faded as he approached. How he had changed in only four days! Paler than ever before, he even seemed to have lost weight.

"Nat!" Even as he called her name, his voice seemed to have lost some of its strength, and his hug, though tender, seemed a physical effort. "I missed you," he said in her ear as he held her close.

"I missed you, too," she replied, meaning every word. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Sure I am," he insisted, just as she expected he would.

But when she offered to drive, he didn't argue.

"I stayed home from work today," he admitted as she worked at the stove. "I was feeling a little...fatigued. I thought maybe I could use the rest."

"And some food in your body," she told him, handing him a cup of clear hot broth. "Here, guaranteed to settle any stomach."

He obliged by taking a few sips. But it seemed a real effort. Minutes later, he'd excused himself to go upstairs, and she knew that he wasn't keeping it down. She met him at the foot of the stairs, noting with her professional eye the way even walking seemed a chore for him. She led him right to the couch.

"Okay, now, why don't you just rest here for a while. I really want to run some tests on you. I don't have any instruments here, but I can run home and--"

"No," he said with all the force she'd heard him muster all evening. "Come on, Nat, I'm okay. It's just withdrawal."

"Nick, how can you be sure?" she said worriedly, then added, "This is so frustrating! I know the problem but have absolutely no idea how to help you." She caught herself as she once more thought of the cure in the Abarat. The moment seemed almost ideal to tell him. And yet what would be the use? Without LaCroix's consent, her knowledge would be nothing more than a disappointment to him, one in a string of many.

"I'll be all right," he was assuring her, playing with her hand. "Please. Just don't go. Stay here with me, Nat..."

She settled against his body then, letting him caress her hair. There was little more that she could do. And there was little more she wanted to do right now.

Perhaps it had been Nick's weakened state, perhaps the foreboding his illness had left her with. Natalie found herself the next day at the University of Toronto, speaking to the head of the Archaeology Department. The aged professor was a legend in his time, an expert in Mesopotamian civilizations. Perhaps there was something that John Cromwell had missed; a line misinterpreted could mean everything.

But to her chagrin, Cromwell's translation had been exact. Another dead end. She was glad she hadn't gotten Nick's hopes up by telling him. She glanced at her watch as she walked outside to see the December sky turned a deep red by the setting sun. Nick would be up now. She'd go to check on him.

A chill ran suddenly down her spine which she knew had nothing to do with the biting wind. She turned abruptly to see a tall, pale, blond man standing before her, a pleasant smile seeming out of place on his face.

"Why hello, Doctor. How nice to see you again."

She opened her mouth as if to say that she didn't know him. But as his eyes met hers in a deep gaze, somehow she knew. "LaCroix," she said softly, before her mind could even register his identity.

He made a slight bow to her.

"But...we've never met..." she began, suddenly confused.

"Perhaps Nicholas has just spoken of me so often that you feel you must know me," he replied innocently. "In any case, it is a pleasure to see you, Miss Lambert."

She didn't trust him. His manner was too suave, too debonair. And how had she known it was him? "Aren't you up a little early?" she asked boldly, trying to conceal her fear.

He glanced up at the darkening sky. "Age does have its advantages."

"What is it you want?" she asked, looking him directly in the eyes.

LaCroix glanced down at the notebook in her hands. "To congratulate you on your find."

She was about to ask how he had known, but knew that it was a moot question. "If you know what it is I found, then you know it's useless."

He nodded. "For the most part."

Anger suddenly overtook her. "So if you knew all along, why did you keep Nick from seeing it? Why did you burn the copy he found in Germany if you knew he couldn't use it anyway?"

LaCroix's eyes lit up with an evil amusement. "So that he'd keep looking."

"And never know it was a wild goose chase." Natalie looked at him in disgust. "You bastard."

"I'm only looking out for his best interests."

"If you were, then you'd give him the cure!"

LaCroix shrugged. "He seems to think he's found his own. But we both know that's not true, don't we, Doctor? "

Natalie tried not to flinch under his piercing glare as she said softly, "Then you know what's happening to him?"

LaCroix nodded. "His body is rejecting all nourishment, and soon it will shut down completely."

Natalie wanted to scream, but fought to control her rage as she accused, "And you won't do anything about it. You'll let him die, rather than release your hold on him."

"If that's your choice."

Natalie's mouth opened wide. "My choice?"

"Yes. I'll be perfectly willing to give my consent--and my blood." He paused, a malevolent gleam in his eyes. "But the cure will be very costly--to you."

Natalie wanted to ask him what price what she would have to pay to bring Nick back over. But she didn't trust LaCroix. And she'd heard too much from Nick over the past few years to believe this was anything but a trick.

So she resisted the urge to ask what he wanted in return, and merely replied, "I won't deal with the devil." And she turned to walk away, not looking back to see if he was following.

LaCroix let her go, knowing he had stirred her curiosity. "You will soon, Natalie. It's only a matter of time."

Now....

Natalie awoke in a cold sweat, to find her pillow soaked with blood. It was something she'd probably never get used to, and she threw the pillow on the floor in disgust.

She hated what she was! And she hated waking from the safety of sleep to the hard reality of her existence. But another reality beckoned--

--she was hungry again.

It was just after dusk, and as she slipped into the kitchenette, she hoped LaCroix would be gone. No such luck. He sat on the couch watching her in disappointment as she ravenously imbibed the cold blood.

"When will you learn, Natalie? Do you think that cold dead swill can ever satisfy you? Does drinking it even compare to the ecstasy of your last kill?"

Natalie closed her eyes, biting her lip. The more she begged him not to remind her of the young man, the more he would do it just to incite her.

In a blink he was at her side, his hands on her shoulders, his lips close to her ear. "Come hunt with me tonight, Natalie. Feel that thrill again. Don't deny what you are..."

She was motionless, loathing his touch, as she said steadily, "I won't kill for you, LaCroix."

"Not for me, Natalie. For yourself. You made the choice to live forever--"

"I made the choice to save Nick," she said evenly. "Not to live forever."

"And a very good choice it was--for both of you. Why Nicholas seems to be doing splendidly--"

She pulled away from him as she shot around to face him, her eyes growing yellow with fury. "You promised to stay away from him!" she hissed angrily.

LaCroix's face feigned innocence. "Oh, but I have. I simply wanted to see how Nicholas was adjusting to human life. A little fatherly concern." His smile was suddenly mysterious as he added, "I think you'd be glad to know that he seems quite happy."

Natalie looked at him strangely. She knew he was baiting her, but she wouldn't bite.

"Why don't you come and see for yourself?"

She shook her head. "No. I won't. I want him left alone."

LaCroix raised his eyebrows. "Alone? Oh, I don't think he's alone at all. But suit yourself."

And he swept through the window without another word, leaving her to wonder what he had meant. And just knowing that she was playing into his hands by even thinking about it, irked her to no end.

The blaring music of The Raven seemed almost unreal to Nick as the alcohol dulled his senses--and his pain. He'd almost forgotten how good it was to drink, the calming effect it had always had upon him. The only thing close had been the blood--but no, there was nothing like a good stiff drink. And how many new varieties they'd come up with in the last few centuries! As a youth he'd drunken himself silly on wine, ale and mead. Now there were different types of vodka, gin, scotch, liqueurs, even something called Goldschlager, a cinnamon schnapps liqueur with actual bits of 24 Karat gold! Tonight he'd tasted a few of each, and found that after seven hundred years, his tolerance was not quite what it used to be.

He barely noticed Janette slink over to the table, sliding into the seat beside him. "Soif, Nicolas?"

"No, not thirsty anymore--it just tastes good," he replied, motioning for Alma to bring him another Goldschlager.

"You know, that stuff could kill you now," she said, her eyes filled with real concern.

He reached up to touch her cheek, surprised at how cool it was, and gave her a kiss. "Thanks for worrying about me, but I think I've lived quite long enough. Anything now is borrowed time."

She shook her head, her expression serious. "No, Nicolas. That's not what you wanted when you became mortal--not what Natalie wanted for you--"

He pulled away at the mention of her name, looking away from Janette and back to his drink.

"Nick, it's been a year and a half. I know how much you cared about her, but there's nothing you can do. If you learned anything in all these years, hasn't it been that we lose those we love and life goes on?"

He looked at her bitterly. "Well, I guess you were right, Janette, when you told me that taking my life seriously, caring about those around me, would only get me hurt. Are you satisfied?"

"No, my love, I'm not," she said quickly. "I never wanted to see you hurt."

"It just wasn't fair, Janette," he began, the tears coming to his eyes. "For less than a day--I was happy. She and I were happy. I began to think we actually had a future together--"

"I know," she said, putting her arms around him.

And for a few moments he let her hold him, comfort him. And when he separated from her, he was ashamed that the alcohol had brought his emotions to the surface. This wasn't the time or the place.

"It's all right," she said, as if sensing his thoughts. "Nick, I can't lie and tell you that I don't wish you were still one of us. Then I could be there for you. But you're not, and I can't, at least not in the way I'd like to. If you want to remain human, you've got to go on with your life. For yourself, as much as for Natalie, and what she wanted for you."

He smiled. "You sound like Schanke."

"Oh, thank you very much. I try to be nice, and you insult me."

"No, it's just that Schanke keeps telling me the same thing. He's been pushing me to get involved with a woman at work."

Janette stiffened slightly as she always did at such prospects. "Do you like her?" she asked.

He sighed. "I suppose so. We've gone out, and I've spent some time with her. But I've avoided letting it get--you know."

She raised her eyebrows. "You?"

He gave her a nasty look.

She smiled. "Nick, if you care for her, and if she can bring you some happiness--"

He looked at her in surprise. "Is this you telling me to go off and get involved with another woman?"

"Nicolas, I told you once before--if it's what makes you happy, that's what I want for you."

He nodded appreciatively, giving her another kiss. He knew she was sincere. "Thank you."

She leaned back against him for a while as they talked of other things--his work, her club, and the inevitable.

"I find it very hard to believe that LaCroix hasn't paid me a visit."

Janette agreed. "It worries me, Nicolas. He seems to have accepted your becoming mortal so easily. It's not like him at all."

"Have you seen him a lot in the past year?"

She shook her head as she took a sip of her own drink. "No. From time to time. But he's pretty much isolated himself from our society. I've heard he made someone else, a new companion. But no one knows anything about it. He left the country for a while, but he's been back for over a month now." She set down her glass, turning to him. "Nick, please. Be careful. I don't believe he can ever give up on you completely--and now, I don't know how you'd protect yourself."

He patted her hand. "Don't worry. I'm prepared for him. And I have been for a year and a half."

For the past three nights, LaCroix had left her alone. And she couldn't imagine why. Did he expect her to try to see Nick? He had to know better than that. Even if she'd wanted to, her fear that he would follow would have stopped her.

He'd even made sure she'd had a fresh supply of cow's blood; but here, his motives were clear to her. Unlike Nick, who'd spent over seven hundred years of learning to control the Vampire within him, Natalie was still young and undisciplined. Her urges were sometimes too strong to bear. And try as she did to satisfy her hunger with the blood of animals, she could not. So strong had her desire to feed become, that she feared leaving her room for even a short time. LaCroix knew this, she could tell. And he realized that the longer she abstained from human blood, the more urgent her hunger would become.

That was why she couldn't see Nick. Though she feared for him, though she wanted to know that he was all right, though she wanted to protect him from LaCroix--she wanted to protect him from herself.

She had no choice. She'd have to trust in LaCroix, and the bargain they had made...

Then....

It had been two weeks since her return from Denmark, and Nick had gotten progressively worse. Unable to digest either food or blood, he'd finally allowed her to try feeding him intravenously. But even that had made him deathly ill, as his body rejected any and every form of nourishment. He'd had to take a leave of absence--work was out of the question. Natalie, too, had taken time off to be with him, and had temporarily moved into his apartment. Nick hadn't objected. In fact, though he still refused to admit the severity of his condition, she knew that he had accepted it.

He was dying. It was an unspoken truth which they both knew. And he wanted her with him as much as she wanted to be there.

Today, he'd barely had the strength to get out of bed. She'd urged him to rest, and he'd agreed as long as she would lie next to him. It wasn't a difficult request. She was exhausted herself, sleeping only when he was able to catch a few moments of rest. And despite his weakened conditioned, he still looked so irresistible in the black silk pajamas...She snuggled beside him only too gladly, loving the feel of his arms around her.

She was asleep before she knew it. And when she awoke, she could feel his hands gently caressing her as he held her, his lips, so warm now, lightly kissing her forehead. She looked up at him. "How do you feel?" she whispered.

His smile was wistful as he replied, "Like I wish I hadn't waited so long to hold you like this."

She wanted to tell him they'd have time together. But she didn't believe it, and she knew he wouldn't either. It was all she could do to keep from crying as she said his name, then reached up to kiss him on the lips. He seemed almost too weak to respond. She cursed herself silently as the tears began to flow down her cheeks.

He wiped them away. His eyes were filled with pain, not for himself, but for her, for them, as he said, "I'm sorry, Nat. I'm sorry to put you through this. And I'm sorry--"

"I'm the one who should be sorry, Nick," she said softly. "That I couldn't help you."

"Shhh. You did everything you could," he reassured her, then pulled her closer, into his embrace.

And as she lost herself in the warmth of him, she cried harder. And she wanted to scream, No! I didn't!

And at that moment, she knew that she couldn't bear to lose him. Whatever it was LaCroix wanted, she would do.

She'd told Nick she needed to check on Sydney, and had left a couple of hours before dawn. As she drove in her car towards the radio station, she turned on CERK, although she knew the voice she would hear. In fact, Nick's life might depend upon him being there.

"Hello, gentle listeners. It's time for another visit with the Night Crawler..."

It was Natalie's skin that crawled with the sound of his voice. But at least he was there.

"This next song is for a dear friend of mine, like a son, actually...he's been very ill lately...in fact, I'd say his time is running out..."

Natalie fumed at his words, stepping down on the accelerator.

She stormed into the broadcast room, too angry to be afraid. LaCroix looked up at her and smiled, although there was no surprise in his expression. He began a tape, flicking off his microphone as he rose slowly to face her. It annoyed Natalie to know that he was taking his time.

"What a lovely surprise, Doctor Lambert. Is there something I can do for you?"

"You can stop using your radio show to taunt Nick, for one," she said brusquely.

"I didn't lie," he said dryly. "His time is running out." He paused as if to examine her response. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," she admitted. "So you know what I want. Just tell me what I have to do to get it."

LaCroix came closer, reaching a hand up to brush her cheek. She tried not to flinch, and betray the real fear she was beginning to feel.

"Such anger, Natalie," LaCroix commented. "Is that any way to start a relationship?"

She stared at him in confusion. "What is it you want of me?" she said, almost afraid to hear his reply.

"You, Natalie," he said, caressing her neck. "One companion for another. I will release Nicholas...but you will come to me freely, and I will bring you over."

Natalie could feel her cheeks burning, and her legs grow weak. This couldn't be real. All the things she'd imagined he might want--her services as a coroner, her assistance, her body, even her life. She would have gladly given any of these things for Nick. But she'd not for one moment imagined that he would ask for her very soul.

"Think of it, Natalie. Eternal life. A gift, really. Not a very high price to pay for Nicholas' life."

Nick's life. She thought of him lying there, near death. He'd followed her advice, and it had failed. And he was slowly dying because she couldn't help him.

She loved him. More than she'd ever loved anyone. And she would give anything to save him. Even if it meant condemning herself to the very existence that he had loathed, and was literally dying to escape.

"You can take some time to think about it, if you like," LaCroix said genially.

But there was no time to think, to consider, to waste. And the bastard damn well knew it.

"All right," she blurted, before she lost her courage to do so. "But Nick must never know. Ever. He has to think I've died. And you must leave him alone. Let him live his life in peace. Otherwise, there's no deal."

"Agreed," he said, nodding his satisfaction, all the while favoring her with that sickening smile.

"And you must give me time--to make sure it works, to see that he's all right." And to be with him, she didn't add aloud.

LaCroix's smile faded. "Twenty-four hours. Take it or leave it."

He was doing this to torture her, she knew. She had heard enough from Nick to know that he derived pleasure from the suffering of others. But she didn't have a choice, did she? Time was running out. "Okay."

"Excellent!" LaCroix smiled again, extending his hand. "Then we have a bargain."

Reluctantly she shook on it, knowing that LaCroix's word was probably as a reliable as the weather. But would there be any other salvation for Nick? She'd have to gamble on LaCroix's keeping his promise.

"So, Doctor--when do we begin?"

Natalie opened her purse, producing a syringe, and enough

vials to collect the blood she would need. "Now."

LaCroix nodded appreciatively. "You will be a very interesting companion indeed."

And as he extended his arm to her, pulling up his sleeve to expose the pale white skin beneath, Natalie tried to stop her hands from shaking long enough to draw his blood.

Luckily, Nick's windows faced southeast. Natalie let herself into his loft just minutes before the sky began to grow lighter, announcing the arrival of the sun. The blinds had not been closed for two days now, as Nick had not even had the strength to venture downstairs. Carefully, she opened the window, letting in the cold air. The old ledge was unusually wide, but for that reason would suit her purpose just fine.

She poured LaCroix's blood into a saucepan, heating it over the fire. The smell was awful, and the chopped up garlic didn't make it any less putrid. Finally, as it came to a boil, she poured the mixture into a silver chalice, taking care to get every last drop.

She placed the chalice on the ledge, securing it with tape lest the wind should threaten to knock it over. And she watched as the sky turned crimson, then pink. Slowly, the rays of the rising sun crept towards the mixture, and she watched for any reaction. And as the light hit the goblet filled with LaCroix's blood, she took in a breath. The blood had begun almost instantly to boil. She could easily see now why sunlight was so deadly to these creatures.

Creatures. A creature she would soon become. But she wouldn't think of that now.

Quietly, she made her way up the stairs. Nick's eyes opened as she entered the room, and he smiled weakly. She could tell at once that his hair was wet, and he'd discarded his pajamas for his brocade robe. "I had to take a shower," he told her in explanation as she sat beside him. "But I felt too dizzy--I had to get back in bed."

She lay back down beside him. "You should have waited for me. I could have helped you."

His eyes glinted despite his fatigue. "That's a tempting offer. I'll hold you to it next time." He reached out his arms to her, and she cuddled against him, loving the soft scent of soap on his skin. He kissed her with as much passion as he could muster, then played with her hair as she settled her head against the soft hairs of his exposed chest.

"How do you feel?" she asked for the umpteenth time. It seemed so critical now to keep him going until the cure would be ready.

"Weak," he said absently. "Tired. My whole body aches. And no matter how many blankets you cover me with, I still feel cold."

She looked up at him, and reached to touch his forehead. Cool for a human, and yet burning hot compared to his normal temperature. She settled back down to listen to his heart, beating two or three times each minute. Much more often than the once every ten minutes he was used to, but still below the threshold of human life. Not vampire, not human. Just struggling somewhere in between.

"I don't know if I should give you cold or hot," she fretted. "It's so hard to tell if we want you to get warmer or colder--" "Nat," he interrupted. "It doesn't matter..."

She looked up at him sharply, but his eyes were filled with a calm resignation.

"Natalie, you know there's nothing we can do now. And I don't have much time left."

"Stop talking like that!" she admonished.

He took his face in her hands. "Natalie, we have to face it. Let's just try to enjoy the time we have left."

"No!" she insisted, her face wet with tears. "Nick, you've got to hold on. There's--something--I'm working on. I know it will make you better."

"Natalie--"

"It'll be ready at sunset! Just ten hours. I won't let you give up, not before you let me try."

"Okay, okay," he said softly, bringing her face up to his. Their lips met, and he kissed her until he could feel that she had calmed down.

As she separated from him, she looked into his eyes. She wanted to tell him she loved him, that it would be all right soon, that he would have all he'd ever wanted--but she couldn't. If he ever knew what she planned, he would refuse the cure. And she couldn't let that happen.

"Is there anything I can get you?" she asked quietly, wishing there were some way to ease his pain. "Another blanket, maybe?"

"Just hold me, Nat. Keep me warm. And stay here with me until--"

She cut him off with a kiss, then wrapped her arms around him to keep him safe until sunset.

She awoke after what seemed an eternity, a peaceful sleep in his arms. Worried that it was too late, she looked at her watch. Only four‑thirty. Still a few minutes until sundown. Careful not to disturb him, she slipped out of the room, and down the stairs.

For a moment, she imagined that the goblet might not be there, taken by LaCroix in a cruel trick. But then she remembered that it had been daylight, and even LaCroix could not venture outside when the sun was high in the sky. Gingerly, she reached for it, and looked inside.

The blood was thick, coagulated, and it looked as if half had boiled away. But enough remained. She closed her eyes in a silent prayer, then headed towards the stairs.

"Nat?" his voice was calling weakly as she reached the top.

"I'm right here, Nick," she said as she sat beside him.

"I didn't know where you went," he said with effort.

"To get something to help you." She took his hand in hers, then carefully placed the goblet there, still holding it to help him support it.

"What is it?" he asked, looking at the contents in confusion.

"Just drink it. Trust me." And even as she asked for his trust, she realized that that was precisely what had brought him to this point to begin with. But it was so important now that he do what she asked!

She smiled slightly to see that his belief in her was still unwavering. He let her bring the chalice to his lips and took a sip...

"UGH!" he cried, pushing it away. "Nat, that's awful! Please, it'll just make me ill."

"Listen to me," she commanded him. "You have to drink this. I don't care how bad it tastes. I'm trying to save your life!"

He looked at her in surprise, as if not understanding why she seemed so angry. But the urgency in her voice was enough for him. He nodded, letting her bring the goblet to his lips once more.

And suddenly, he began to transform. His eyes glowed yellow, then red, as his teeth protruded, drawing blood from his own lip. Natalie stared in horror as his face filled with pain, and he let out a low growl. My God, what have I done to him! And as his body began to convulse, she lay hers upon him, restraining him, comforting him, screaming a silent prayer from the depths of

her soul that this was part of what was supposed to happen.

And in an instant, it was gone, as quickly as it had set upon him. Natalie felt his body relax beneath hers, and she slowly sat up to look upon his face...

And her tears flowed freely. For the amber‑red eyes had returned to their sky blue, and his cheeks, so long sunken and pale, were rosy and full of life.

He was looking at her in a daze, as if he didn't realize what had happened. She squeezed the hand that she had held throughout his entire ordeal, then searched for a pulse... seventy‑eight... seventy‑nine... eighty...

His lips slowly formed the question. "What...?" and she took his hand, placing it on his own chest. She held her hand over it, smiling through her tears as he felt his own heartbeat.

"Nat, am I...?'

"You're human," she told him triumphantly, though her voice was choked with emotion.

"But how?" he asked, still too astonished to believe what was happening to him.

"It doesn't matter," she whispered in his ear, before her lips crushed against his.

And at this moment, it really didn't.

Nick sat up impatiently in bed while she ran through the usual barrage of tests--blood pressure, temperature, heart rate. She shook her head in amazement as she set down the equipment. "It's unbelievable. You're totally normal."

"Does that mean you'll let me eat now?"

She laughed. "You're hungry? After that God-awful drink?"

"Remember, I haven't eaten in weeks. And I don't think I've been this hungry for seven centuries." He shot up out of bed with an energy she hadn't seen in him in a month.

"Just take it easy, okay?" she said resting her hand on his arm. "Your body's been through a lot in the last few days. You probably need to rest."

Nick wrapped his hands around her waist. The contact made her weak. "I'm okay, Nat. Thanks to you."

"So, I suppose you want me to cook you dinner now?" she asked softly.

"No," he replied, his expression tender. "I owe you dinner. Remember?"

She'd gone back to her house to find an appropriate dress, and, more importantly, to check on Sydney. And as she held the chubby gray and white feline in her arms, burying her face in his fur, she knew it would be the last time she'd see him. And it was probably at that moment that the weight of what she was about to do crushed down upon her.

The euphoria of seeing Nick well again, human again, had allowed her to, at least temporarily, forget about what she had vowed to do. But she knew that her time with Nick was slipping away. She'd have to make the most of it. For the next few hours would have to last Nick a lifetime--and her an eternity.

She set Sydney down reluctantly, undressed and hopped into the shower. She had the perfect dress in mind--black and tight-fitting, with a low neckline and high hem line. Not her usual, but she'd bought it on a whim, hoping someday she'd have a chance to wear it. The same went for the black lace panties and bra. When was the last time she'd expected someone to see them? She could feel her own inadvertent arousal as she imagined Nick exploring her, for the first time unhindered by the beast whose threat had always held him back. She wanted him so badly! And she knew for the first time in her life that he wanted her too, he'd always wanted her, but been afraid to hurt her. Would he want to take her tonight? She shook off the thought that made her burn with desire for him. No matter how much she needed to be with him, she knew she couldn't. For once he had truly loved her, once she'd felt him inside of her, she would never have the strength to walk away. And she knew she had to. Or LaCroix would see to it that his first day as a human would be his last. She'd done this for Nick. She couldn't indulge her own wants and desires, even if she knew he shared them.

She dressed quickly, applied the makeup she'd taken so little care with over the last few weeks of Nick's illness, and blew out her hair until it was just right. He liked it down. He'd told her so.

Rummaging through a drawer, she quickly chose three pictures--one of her with her parents and Richard, one with Nick, the last of Sydney--and slipped them into her purse. They wouldn't be missed, and they were all she would take with her, as remembrances of her life. She picked up Sydney, giving him one last kiss. She'd left him food and water and a clean litter box. "I wonder who'll take you, Sydney?" she asked the purring cat. "Maybe Grace, or Sarah--maybe even Nick."

She whispered, "I love you," and set him down, leaving him to look at her questioningly as she left him, and her life here, for the last time.

"Nat, you look great," he said as he kissed her on the cheek. The expression on Nick's face told her it had been worth the time she'd spent getting ready. "I only wish you'd let me pick you up--I mean, this is a date, isn't it?"

She smiled at his chivalry. "I told you we'd only go out tonight if you rested first." She looked him over, but the physician in her only confirmed what the woman in her already knew--he looked fantastic. His face was full of color, and the fatigue had left his body. And as he stood next to her in the tan suit, and blue shirt that matched his eyes, he seemed healthier than ever. "How do you feel?" she asked anyway, still needing to hear him say it.

"I feel...human," he said, still incredulous, then added, with a twinkle in his eye, "and hungry...like I haven't eaten well in centuries."

"Then far be it from me to keep you waiting," she replied, slipping her hand into his.

The restaurant was the most expensive in Toronto, and Natalie was glad that she knew Nick's resources were unlimited. She'd never seen someone eat so much in her life. Shrimp cocktail, stuffed artichoke, Caesar salad, filet mignon, baked potatoes, bread...She sat now in front of a tall chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream, wondering if she'd ever be able to finish it. She'd begun to attempt it as the waiter brought over the after-dinner brandy Nick had ordered, a nine hundred dollar bottle of Remy Martin Louis XIII, and poured their glasses. Nick lifted hers, offering it to her, then raised his own. "Shall we make a toast?"

"To indigestion?" she asked with a pained expression. "God, Nick, I haven't eaten this much in ages. I'll be busting out of my dress soon."

He raised his eyebrows, his smile silently telling her that he wouldn't mind the prospect at all.

Her cheeks flushed. "Okay, I'll make a toast. To your new life." She lifted her glass to meet his, but he held it back.

"No," he said, looking into her eyes. "To our new life."

For a moment, she could do nothing more than struggle to conceal the anguish that wished to engulf her. Fortunately, Nick moved to kiss her, breaking the gaze that would have broken her. And as his lips tasted hers, she tried desperately not to tremble with the pain of her own short-lived joy.

He came away from her, and his expression was one of puzzlement. She silently cursed her own inability to hide her emotions from him, as he asked, "Nat, is everything okay?"

She forced a smile. And as she concentrated on nothing but her intense love for him at that moment, she replied with complete honesty, "Yes. Everything is perfect."

And it was. The potent brandy seemed to make all her despair over what was to come seem centuries away. Tonight and tomorrow would be endless; she'd live a lifetime with him that she could cherish for an eternity.

Nick was human. And terribly in love with her. He didn't need to say it for her to know; his mortality had freed him from his repression. Every touch, every gesture, overflowed with the emotion he'd held back for so long.

They'd come back to the loft just before midnight. The door slid shut behind them, and he took her into his arms, kissing her deeply. Her pocketbook dropped to the floor as she laced her hands around his neck, reveling in the feel of his new warmth as their bodies pressed together. And as she felt his desire, her own escalated to an unbearable pitch.

She'd known that she loved him. But now she knew that she wanted him more desperately than she'd ever wanted anyone.

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered in her ear. She shivered as his lips found her neck, hesitating only slightly before making their way to her breasts. He'd already begun to unzip her dress, exposing the lace bra she'd expected no one to see. In a moment, his hands were there rubbing her, caressing her, releasing her for his mouth to explore. She gasped with pleasure as he tickled her with his tongue.

"Yes," she said softly.

He looked up at her, kissed her, then led her towards the stairs.

But when they'd made their way halfway up, he stopped suddenly, grabbing the rail.

"Nick--what is it?" she asked worriedly, taking his arm to steady him.

He paused a moment, shaking his head as if to clear it. "I don't know--I got dizzy--all of a sudden. My head--and my stomach--"

"It's all right," she said helping him up the rest of the way. "Come on..."

She led him to the bed, not exactly the way she'd planned to, and made him lie down. He looked up at her with concern.

"Natalie, what is this? The room is spinning--I see--two of you--You don't think the cure isn't really--"

She smiled at him tenderly. "It's not the cure, Nick. It's the alcohol. And the food. You're drunk. And if you get sick now, it'll be because you ate like a pig."

He looked up at her sheepishly. "I never thought--I'm not used to--"

"Well, you're going to have to get used to it, and remember when to stop--otherwise you'll make yourself sick--not to mention fat."

He shook his head, although from the look on his face, even that hurt. "I haven't felt like this since the first night I got drunk--when I was a kid."

"Well, that's good," she told him. "It means you really are human."

He smiled at the realization.

"But you're going to have to take it easy. Your body's not used to this."

He reached up to touch her cheek. "Really bad timing, isn't it? I'm so sorry, Nat. If you knew how much I wanted--"

She nodded, and in his state he could not even see the sadness in her eyes as she whispered, "Me too. But you have to rest now."

"Only if you lie here with me. Let me at least hold you, please..."

She complied only too gladly. He pulled her close, and soon they both fell into a deep sleep.

At one point, Natalie awoke to find his head resting against her bare chest. She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair. How exquisite it would have been! But she knew it had been for the best. Because sober once more, she knew that if he had made love to her, she'd never be able to let go. She closed her eyes, but willed herself to stay awake. She didn't want to miss a moment of this.

When she did awake it was to the touch of his kiss on her lips, and his hands gently tucking the covers about her. She opened her eyes to see him sitting across from her, looking down at her with a smile on his face. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she mumbled sleepily. He'd obviously been up and about; his hair was still wet from his shower, and he'd donned his red brocade robe. Then, as the drowsiness lifted, it hit her. "Morning? Nick, is the sun up?"

"Not yet," he replied, playing with her hand. "Soon. But I wanted to wait for you, anyway. To share it with me."

She sat up in bed and he hugged her to him. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"A little hung-over," he said with a look of amusement on his face. "But like you said, it's a good sign. It means I'm human." He kissed her.

"You'd better take better care of yourself today," she warned, resting against him. And every day I'm not with you, she added silently.

"I will," he promised. "I don't want anything to cut short our evening tonight."

Natalie stiffened as the reality of what would happen today at sundown hit her; she cursed herself silently for doing so, because he'd clearly felt it.

"Nat, what is it?" he asked, coming away to look at her. "Are you upset with me?"

"No," she reassured him, laying back against his chest, and burying her head there. She didn't have the strength at this moment to lie to him. "I'm just tired. Maybe I need a shower to wake me up."

"Anything you want," he responded as he wrapped his arms around her. "This is a special day. Our first real day together in the sun."

And as he held her just like that, running his fingers through her hair, she willed herself to take hold of her emotions. Don't ruin this day, Nat. For him, or for yourself. It's the only one you'll have. And as much as the horror of that threatened to paralyze her, she found the courage to smile up at him. "Come on. We've got a date with the sun."

She'd showered and dressed quickly, donning the jeans and sweatshirt that were so different from her attire of last night. When she came downstairs, she found that he'd changed into a pair of jeans himself, and that light blue T-shirt that matched his eyes. He was waiting by the window, the remote in his hand.

"Are you sure we just can't go outside?" he complained like an anxious little child.

"Positive," she replied, coming to stand beside him. "You have to take this all slow, remember? In fact, you should probably wear your sunglasses. Your eyes will be sensitive to the light."

"I will, but later, " he told her. "I just want to see it with my own eyes for the first time."

She nodded, excited for him as he raised the remote, pointing it towards the heavy shades that had protected him, no, imprisoned him, for so long. He hesitated a moment, looked at her, and she slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it, then turned his attention back to the windows as the shades began to open.

It was still darkness. Yet in the east, Venus was brilliantly awaiting the glowing orb that would drown it in its luminescence. As they watched, the cold sky began to turn a shade of crimson, as the sun crept slowly over the horizon. Nick stood entranced, staring defiantly at the brightening sky, as he had not dared in eight centuries.

"All the colors of the rainbow," he whispered to Natalie, and she was sure that God had planned this exquisite sunset just for them--his first in centuries, and her last.

When the sky had turned blue, he stepped forward, letting the warming rays wash over him.

"How do you feel?" she asked softly when the sunlight had reached his face.

He turned to her, his eyes moist. "Like going outside. Come on, Nat..." And pulling her by the hand, he nearly ran to the door, like a little boy about to witness his first snowfall. And as they left the warehouse that had been his refuge, his prison, for all these years, he stretched out his arms, closed his eyes and lifted his head to the sky. "Tell me I'm really here, Nat. That there's no smoke coming out of my skin--"

"You're really outside," she assured him. "And no, you're not setting off any smoke alarms any more."

He laughed at the pure joy of it, looking around at everything for the first time in the light. "I forgot how beautiful the world is..."

"Hmmm--this neighborhood? Maybe we should take a ride in the countryside, or by the water--"

He turned to her. "We'll go everywhere. I want to see everything in the light..." He paused, looking at her strangely--as if for the first time.

"What is it?"

He brought his hands up to her face. "Natalie, I always knew you were beautiful. But in the sunlight..."

Her cheeks grew hot, as his words and his touch warmed her more than the sun ever could. And as he brought her face to his, he kissed her passionately, then swirled her about in his excitement. And she knew then that she would have no regrets. She'd never seen him so alive, so happy. She had freed him. And that was worth any price.

Now....

She smiled now to think of that day, each detail of which was permanently emblazoned on her mind. An advantage of her vampiric state, she supposed, perhaps the only one, was that she would never forget the moments she'd spent with Nick, were she to live an eternity. Just as if it had been yesterday she could see their picnic in the park, feel his touch as he'd held her close, his kiss... She remembered their walk through downtown Toronto, visiting all the stores that he'd never seen because they closed before dusk. Her heart had beat rapidly as he'd taken her into the little jewelry store, asking her to pick something as a remembrance of today. She'd told him it wasn't necessary, so he'd just chosen something himself--a large gold heart lined in sparkling diamonds, probably over ten karats in total. She'd gasped at the price--almost $25,000--and refused vehemently to let him buy it. But he'd insisted, and hadn't blinked an eye when he'd pulled out a credit card to pay.

She remembered his warm breath on her neck as he'd fastened it on her, his light kiss as he'd nuzzled her. How the desire had coursed through her then! And even now, as she thought back on it, the memories came alive, and she burned for him...

Natalie poured another glass of blood, hoping it would calm her hunger, and her passion, both of which became so inextricably intertwined whenever she thought of Nick. Absently, she ran her fingers over the diamond heart, as she had a thousand times since the last day she'd seen Nick. On a long gold chain, it fell between her breasts, hidden from LaCroix, and close to her heart. Perhaps he'd seen the chain, but never questioned it. She would rather die than let him take it from her.

What was it they said about all good things coming to an end? The end for her and Nick had been too abrupt, too soon. Yet it was the price she'd known she would pay for his happiness.

Happiness.

How much happiness had she brought him that night? Only pain...

Then....

Too soon, she thought to herself with panic as she looked at her watch. Dusk was rapidly approaching, and with it the end of what had unquestionably been the happiest day of her life. They'd come back to the loft when he'd begun to feel his strength giving way, and as they sat now on the couch, in each other's arms, she'd tried to close her eyes and imagine that she could stay here forever. But as the sun had begun to set, she knew that it was over. How could she ever leave him? How could she bear to lie to him as she walked out of his life?

"Do you like your present?" he asked, disturbing her reverie.

She smiled. "I love it." And I love you, she wanted to tell him. There were so many things she wanted to tell him but couldn't. So she merely whispered, "I'll wear it forever." And she would.

A few more moments stolen. His hand running through her hair. His lips tasting her. His arms, such safety in his arms. The room grew darker.

"Nick," she finally said softly. "I have to go."

"Why? Where?" It was inconceivable that she should have to leave him.

"Sydney--I want to check on him--I've been away so long--and if I'm going to ...stay here..."

Luckily he questioned her no further. He was much too exhausted and at peace to realize that something was amiss. He walked her to the door, then helped her with her coat.

She'd taken nothing with her--how could she? Just the photos she'd slipped into her bag, and the clothes she was wearing. She'd decided to look her professional best--the beige skirt and jacket, with the light blue blouse she often wore to work. She was glad to leave the black dress behind. She'd bought it for Nick, not LaCroix. And she shuddered at the thought of him finding her the least bit attractive.

Nick had taken her into his arms, and she fought back the tears as she kissed him urgently.

"Are you all right, Nat?" he asked, looking too closely into her eyes.

She forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just tired. It's been a long day."

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. His eyes were playful as he said, "Remember, we still have a lot of celebrating to do tonight." Luckily, his kisses left no room for response.

She turned to leave finally, but he called her back.

"Nat..."

As she looked back at him, she prayed she could hold herself together just a few more moments. She waited for him to speak, seeing something in his expression that he wanted to say.

"Nick?"

Whatever it was, he shook it off. "Just hurry back, okay?"

She promised she would, trying not to choke on the words.

Only when she had reached the outside did she allow herself to cry. And then the tears that she'd held back all day came down in a cascade of emotion. She sat in her car for a full ten minutes before putting the key in the ignition. It occurred to her that she wasn't even sure where she was supposed to go. To the radio station? She'd have to compose herself. She couldn't go to him in such a state, let him see her like this...

A cold hand touched her shoulder, chilling her even through her clothes, giving her a start. But she didn't have to turn her head to know who was there.

"There, there, my dear," he said in her ear. "You mustn't cry. Why, a whole new life is about to begin..."

But Natalie knew that any life she had ever had or cared about was over.

LaCroix had arranged everything. He'd instructed her to

drive to a deserted stretch of road where a pale man, clearly a

vampire, had awaited them. There, they'd switched cars. On the

way to his hotel room, LaCroix had explained that her car would

be found demolished, the body of a young woman charred beyond

recognition in the blaze. She'd insisted on knowing everything‑‑

was an innocent person to die to perpetrate this ruse? But no.

He'd assured her that the woman was no more than another victim

to be disposed of‑‑and this was as good a way as any.

She stood now in his room at the Toronto Hilton, a huge

suite that he'd indefinitely rented with his immense resources.

Her heart beat rapidly as she tried to calm herself. This had

been her choice. This was the reason Nick was human now. Yet

resigned as she was to her fate, the thought of what LaCroix was

about to do to her terrified her.

"Nicholas seems to be getting on quite well," he said all

too pleasantly. "I trust you enjoyed your day?"

She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing any detail

of her last moments with Nick. She merely replied, "You promised

to stay away from him. I trust that that's still part of our

deal?"

"Why, of course. I am true to my word. Now, is there

anything I can have brought to you? A drink perhaps. You seem

nervous."

"Just get on with it," she said steadily, her face betraying

her hatred for him.

"As you like." He stood from the bed where he'd been

sitting, and held out his hand as if to call her to him.

Natalie stepped towards him, determined to conceal her fear,

her pain. But she was afraid she would fail miserably. She

slipped off her jacket, then slowly unbuttoned the top of her

blouse enough to expose her neck. She shivered as he came to

stand behind her, touching her neck lightly with his icy fingers.

She felt his breath at the back of her neck as he brought

his lips there. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to bite

her...

But instead, he began kissing her! She took in a short

breath in surprise, in revulsion. He's playing with me, trying to

scare me, she thought to herself. She trembled with trepidation

as his hand reached to the front of her blouse, effortlessly

ripping it open. He pulled in down to expose her shoulder,

caressing her with his hand as his lips continued to taste her

skin. His hand moved down to her breast, as he began to fondle

her roughly.

Her face grew crimson in a mixture of embarrassment and

anger. "Is this really necessary?"

"I thought I'd make this as pleasurable as possible..."

he said with an feigned innocence that sickened her.

"For whom?" she retorted. "There's nothing you could do to

me that I would enjoy."

"What a pity," he said sarcastically, then, in a voice that

became as aggressive as his caress, added, "For my pleasure

then."

"You enjoy controlling people," she said boldly. "Degrading

them..."

He spun her around to face him. His eyes were glowing amber

as he said, "Let me make this perfectly clear to you, Dr.

Lambert. I am about to give you the gift of eternal life...power

beyond your dreams. From this moment on, you are mine, to do with

as I please. If you find that degrading..." he said, grabbing

onto her once more, just to demonstrate that he could, "then that

is your problem entirely."

With that he threw his lips against hers, forcing her into a

kiss. She tried to back away but he held her firmly against him,

even as she felt his teeth beginning to protrude, drawing blood

from her lips. His eyes were a blazing red as he came away from

her, his expression manic as he growled, "If this is how you want

it, then have it your way..."

And before she could react, his mouth was on her neck, his

teeth biting into her flesh. So sudden was the attack, and so

searing the pain that her scream was lost as it reached her lips.

Her heart cried out in panic as she felt her very life essence

being drawn from her body with the rush of blood. Soon, she was

too close to unconsciousness to feel the pain that had been

excruciating just moments before. And she knew she was dying.

As in a dream, she could feel him lifting her up, placing

her on the bed.

"Your blood is so sweet, Natalie," she could hear him say.

"Nicholas is a fool for not having taken you all this time. How

he managed to restrain himself, I will never understand."

No, you couldn't understand, she thought to herself.

Suddenly his breath was at her neck once more. She wouldn't look.

She'd keep her eyes closed, pray for release...

"You're dying, Natalie," he said softly, matter‑of‑factly.

With the last bit of strength she could muster, she

whispered, "Then let...me...die..."

She could feel his hand on her cheek. "Ah, but what a waste

that would be. And it would alter our bargain..."

She forced her eyes open slowly to look up at him. His face

had returned to normal, yet the evil remained.

"He's human, now, you know. Destroying him would be like

swatting a fly‑‑"

"No..." she managed.

"Then tell me you want me to bring you over, Natalie," he

said insistently. "Beg me..."

There was no time to think, no question of what she had to

do. Despite the fear, the revulsion of him, there had never been

a question.

"Yes...please...please..."

And she knew she'd just signed away her soul. But she'd

bought Nick his. LaCroix's smile was sickening as he said, "Good.

That's more like it."

She watched as he ripped open his wrist with his teeth, then

brought it to her lips. How will I ever be able to do this? she

thought dismally.

But to her horror, as she tasted his blood, she knew at once

that it would be very easy. For her thirst was unbearable, her

hunger to fill her depleted veins with his life-force

uncontrollable. And the taste was so sweet, so rich, so

invigorating...She found her strength rapidly returning as she

grabbed onto his arm, holding it against her mouth as she sought

more and more...

Suddenly, he pulled his arm away from her. She reached for

it desperately, but he said firmly, "Enough." She lay back in a

confused daze as he found a wine bottle and drank its contents

down. He took another, and offered it to her. It wasn't the same,

it couldn't compare to the thrill of taking it from him, but it

satisfied her thirst.

"Now rest, my childe," he said in a fatherly tone, caressing

her hair.

In the stupor that had clouded her mind to everything but

her hunger, Natalie fell into a deep sleep.

She awoke feeling thirsty. The room was dark, yet she could

see with a clarity she'd never imagined possible. Instinctively,

she reached for the bottle he had left at her side, drinking it

down...

And as her head cleared, it all came back to her. She threw

the bottle to the floor in disgust, her fingers trembling as she

touched her mouth, then examined the blood she found there. It

was human. She had drunk human blood and enjoyed it.

Worse, she had drunk LaCroix's blood and craved more.

She'd prepared herself for this, or so she'd thought. She'd

resigned to the fact that she would have to drink animal blood to

survive. She'd fooled herself into thinking that she would not

fall prey to the same weakness as Nick had, the same desires.

But she realized now just how naive she'd been. She had not

even considered that she might find control even more difficult

than Nick had. She couldn't even now fathom what the extent of

her physical urges would be.

She looked at the broken bottle on the floor, wishing she

hadn't wasted the nourishment inside. But she vowed at that

moment that she would never drink human blood again. She'd find

animal's blood‑‑she knew Nick's sources. And she would survive,

as he had for so long. Survive until she could find a cure for

herself.

The memory of LaCroix and the way he had desecrated her came

rushing before her. Even with all Nick had told her, she had not

imagined the humiliation he might put her through. But Nick is

okay. That's all that matters... And as she thought of him, and

began to wonder what he was doing right now, her tears flowed

freely.

The blood tears stained her blouse, and she cried harder.

Now....

Natalie thought now of the indignities that LaCroix had

visited upon her. Starving her until he'd driven her to kill the

homeless man. Taking her disguised to her own wake, forcing her

to watch from the sidelines as Nick had cried openly over her

closed casket. She'd wanted to run to him, tell him that she was

all right.

But she wasn't. She was just as good as dead. Better he

should think that she was.

She'd done this for Nick, to give him the happiness he'd

always deserved. A small part of her had begged LaCroix to bring

her over precisely so that she could be there to keep an eye on

him, to assure that he would stay away from Nick. Yet she

realized dismally that she had no power to fight LaCroix‑‑and no

power to protect Nick.

Now, LaCroix had gone to Nick, watched him. She wouldn't let

LaCroix touch him, even if she were to die trying to safeguard

his life.

She'd sworn to stay away from Nick. Yet she knew now that

she had to see him. She had to know that he was all right, and

that he was truly happy.

She'd go out with LaCroix, just as he wanted. And the next

time he stalked Nick, she would be there to make sure, in any way

possible, that no harm came to him.

Nothing else mattered to her now as much as this.

Then....

As soon as the door slid shut behind Natalie, he missed her. He'd gotten so used to having her constantly close by over the

past few weeks. But more than that...

He loved her desperately. How long had it taken him to admit

that to himself? And when he finally had confessed his love to her, on that Valentine's Day that seemed ages ago, LaCroix's treachery had left Nick no choice but to take the memory from her, pretending that nothing had passed between them. He'd done it to protect her, to save her life, to spare her the pain of knowing that what had finally been acknowledged between them could never be, as long as LaCroix lived. The anguish of it had privately consumed him, but he'd vowed never to let her know how close they had come to being happy together.

But things were so different now. His newfound mortality had offered him hope of a future, and a life he wanted to share with no one but her. His condition, as she liked to call it, no longer existed--and his bond with LaCroix was broken. And while he still feared that LaCroix might attempt to intrude on his happiness, he'd already begun to devise ways to protect himself, and Natalie, should the need arise.

Yes, the time for him to confess his love to her once more had arrived, although he was sure that by now, she must know. He'd wanted so badly to tell her last night, just as much as he'd wanted to make love to her. How his body had ached for her! Just thinking of her now sent a wave of arousal through him. And it delighted him so, to freely feel those urges without fear that the vampire would emerge! He'd cursed himself over and over for his indulgences that had ruined an otherwise perfect evening.

Then, he'd wanted to tell her this afternoon, when the sun

was shining in her hair, when he'd placed the diamond heart

around her neck. And just as she'd left tonight, he'd wanted to

say, "I love you, Nat"; but the moment would have to be perfect.

Tonight would be that perfect night. Candlelight dinner, a

quiet evening alone, and he would tell her. Then he'd make love

to her as he'd never made love to anyone before.

He lay down on the couch to wait for her, thinking once more

of the black dress, the taste of her lips, the softness of her

skin...

The door slid open. He'd fallen asleep. He raised himself

lazily from the couch, a smile ready for her...

But it wasn't Nat. It was Schanke, and by the grim look on

his face, he knew at once that something was wrong. "What is it,

Schank?" he asked, jumping up to meet him.

Schanke's eyes were moist, and Nick's heart began to pound

as he realized that he'd never seen his partner in such a state.

"You'd better sit down, Nick." Schanke's voice was choked with

emotion.

"Tell me," he commanded, refusing to budge.

Schanke came close enough to put a hand on his partner's

shoulder. "Nick, it's real bad. Natalie...there's been an

accident."

"What?!"

"Her car...ran off the road...the gas tank must have been

punctured because it went up‑‑"

"Where is she!?" he demanded frantically.

Schanke looked down. "She's gone, Nick."

Nick could feel his entire body beginning to shake. "No,

Schank, it can't be‑‑"

"They IDed the car‑‑it's hers."

"But did they find her? Did anyone identify her? Why didn't

someone call me to‑‑"

Schanke looked into his eyes. "Nick‑‑there's nothing left to

identify‑‑"

"Then they can't prove it was her‑‑maybe someone stole her

car, maybe‑‑" He stopped, knowing he was grasping for straws. But

he didn't care. He grabbed for the phone, punching in memory

one, her home number. "Maybe she's home--that's where she was

headed when she left‑‑"

Her machine picked up. And as he listened to her voice, her

sweet voice, a chill ran through him. If this was true if Schanke

was right, he'd never hear her voice again, never hold her...

The recording beeped, and he threw the phone across the

room. "She's not dead, Schank, do you hear me?! She's not dead!"

And he felt his tears hot on his cheeks as he slowly fell into

the chair and Schanke put a hand on his arm to let him know he

was there.

And that was when the numbness began.

A few days later, when Sarah held a small memorial service

for her, the numbness was still there. Schanke and Myra were at

his side as he stood before the coffin. They wouldn't let him see

the charred remains of what had been the woman he would never

cease to love. He'd ranted and raved until the Captain had

reluctantly allowed him to see the pictures from forensics.

"That's not Natalie," he had whispered over and over. And as

he stood now in front of the closed casket, he said it again.

"That's not her. It can't be. That's why they won't let me see,

Schank. They know that I'll know right away."

Schanke and Myra had looked at each other helplessly. He

knew they didn't believe him. But it couldn't be Natalie. God

wouldn't do this to them--how could He tear them apart just when

their life together was about to begin?

"Nick, we're going to get the car. Do you want to wait here...be alone for a few minutes?"

He nodded absently, then knelt before the casket. And

somewhere deep inside a small voice told him, Yes, this is her.

And you've lost her. This is your punishment. You never deserved

to be so happy. It was then that his tears flowed uncontrollably.

A hand on his shoulder brought him from his private grief.

He looked up, expecting to see Schanke...

...into the eyes of LaCroix. He stood slowly, facing the man

who under any other circumstances might have evoked fear. But

what could he possibly fear now that he had lost the only thing

that had meaning in his life? "What do you want?" he asked

wearily, heedless of the tears on his face.

"To express my sympathy, of course," LaCroix responded in

complete seriousness. "I know how much you loved her."

"Get the hell away from me," Nick told him, turning back to

the casket. If LaCroix killed him right then, he wouldn't care.

So what was there to fear?

"Just remember, Nicholas. Ashes to ashes. You'll join her

some day. That's the nature of being mortal."

The sooner the better, Nick thought silently to himself.

When he turned around once more, LaCroix was gone.

Now....

Nick felt a weight on his chest, as if someone were walking

across his body. His eyes opened, and Sydney was staring at him.

He smiled in spite of himself, petting the cat between the eyes,

in that perfect spot that made him purr the loudest.

"You know I was thinking about her, don't you Sydney?" he

said as the gray and white feline lay down on his chest, burying

his head in Nick's neck. He patted him on the stomach. "You

always know."

He remembered that day when he'd decided to take Sydney.

He'd gone to visit him each day since Natalie's death, knowing

that Nat would want him to. And that day that Sarah had asked her

to come to the apartment, to go through her things...

"Nick, is there anything you want, to, uh, remember her by?"

At first he'd thought not. Then he'd seen so many of the

things that Nat had loved. Her tiny gold heart that she'd worn

around her neck until recently, a ring he'd given her, some

pictures...He'd cried as he'd gone through them, as he hadn't

cried in hundreds of years. And each photo that he found of her

he slipped into his pocket, knowing that in the months, even

years to come, it would bring warm memories and tears to his eyes

just to look at them. Finally, as he'd put together a small

package of things to take home, Sydney had come over to him, much

friendlier since they'd bonded over the last two weeks.

"Sarah?" he'd called. "What are you going to do with

Sydney?"

"I don't know, Nick. I'd like to take him, but I've got two

dogs. Maybe Grace?"

He'd taken the cat in his arms as he'd offered, "Why don't

you let me take him? Nat... loved him a lot. It's the least I can

do for her."

And that was how Sydney had come to live with him. Nick had

never regretted his decision. If anything, the companionship had

kept him from going insane with his grief. For he talked to

Sydney every day‑‑and he was positive that the cat knew exactly

what he was saying.

"What do you think I should do, Sydney? Everyone thinks I

should go out with that girl--but how can I, when all I can think

about is Natalie?"

"MEOW!" Sydney replied.

Nick sighed. If only he understood what that meant. Maybe

then he'd know what to do....

It was just before dawn when LaCroix came in, the blood of the kill fresh on his lips. He looked at her with the same disdain as always. "So, have you had an exciting night as always?" he sneered at her. His eyes, still amber, no longer frightened her, and he knew it.

"Actually, no," she told him. "I've been thinking that I'd take you up on your offer to go out tomorrow night."

He smiled malevolently, stepping up to tower over her. "You can't fool me," he warned. "Why don't you tell me the real reason you've suddenly decided to come out of seclusion. You want to see him, don't you?"

She looked up at him defiantly. "I know you can read my thoughts, so I won't bother. Yes, I want to see him. I need to know he's all right."

LaCroix raised his eyebrow. "Are you saying you want to let him know that you're alive?"

"No," she said immediately. "You know that goes against our agreement. I just want to watch him, from afar--see that he's happy. That's the only way I can move on with my own life."

"Very well, then. Tomorrow night." He ran his fingers through her hair, a habit he was fond of that gave her chills. "And after you've seen that your precious Nicholas is doing well without you, perhaps you'll join me in the hunt."

Natalie didn't answer. She knew she didn't have to. He knew how she felt, and any protestations would only incur his anger. And lying, she'd learned, was impossible. Without another word, she turned towards her room, falling down on the bed in exhaustion.

The thought that she would see him tomorrow calmed her, and sleep came easily.

"So, so...?"

Schanke's presence had become a real nuisance since he'd taken on the role of matchmaker. Always asking, digging, pushing...

"So, how did it go? Did anything happen? Any action? I've heard she's really hot to--"

"Schank, enough already, okay?" Nick tried to ignore him as he typed a report, but true to form, his partner persisted.

"Come on, Nick, I'm the one who set you two up. The least you can do is tell me if you like her--"

Nick looked up at him. "I like her, okay? She's nice. But that's all."

Schanke came right up to his desk as he asked, "Okay, so when's the next date?"

Nick slapped his papers down on the desk. "I don't know. But as soon as I do, I'll let you know."

"Hey, do I sense a little hostility here? Because I could just but out--"

"Do that," Nick replied tersely.

"--but I won't, because I'm your friend, and I can't stand seeing you so depressed."

Nick sighed. It was no use. Schanke would be Schanke, and there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, he really didn't mean any harm.... "Look, Schank, it's just that I need some time..."

"What you need is female companionship. When was the last time you spent an evening with a woman?"

He laughed. "Last night."

"Am I missing something?"

He shook his head. "No. It was just Janette. I spent some time at the Raven, and then she came home with me for a while."

Schanke raised his eyebrow. "Ah-hah, so there is something going on with you and--"

"No, no, we're just friends. She's not...my type. Not anymore, at least."

Schanke pulled up a chair, his tone confidential as he said, "So why don't you give Dina a chance? She's really got the hots for you. I can tell these things, trust me--"

He cut himself off suddenly as the woman in question passed by.

"Hi, Nick," she said, as if ignoring his partner altogether. "I was wondering if you had any plans tonight. I noticed on the duty roster that we're both off tomorrow, and, well, I really feel like getting out, but I hate to go alone."

Nick hesitated a moment before he felt Schanke kick his leg. Surely taking her out tonight would be worth it just to get Schanke off his back. Besides, she was very pretty...

"Sure, Dina, I'm free tonight."

He wasn't sure who smiled wider, Dina or Schanke.

Natalie awoke to find LaCroix already dressed and ready to leave the hotel.

"Wait, I thought I was going with you tonight!"

Now that she had determined to see Nick, she was wary of any time LaCroix tried to go off alone.

"In time, Natalie. I need to get a fresh supply of blood from the Raven. Unless you'd like to come?"

He knew damn well she wouldn't. She couldn't let Janette see her. She wouldn't waste a heartbeat in telling Nick that she was alive. She settled back onto the couch. "Okay. I'll wait here. But when you come back--"

LaCroix gave her a lovely fake smile. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Nick and Dina had gone to the Hard Rock Cafe for dinner. The conversation was pleasant, although at times forced. Police talk came easily--but Nick knew in his heart he didn't have much in common with this woman. Her tastes, her values, were all late-twentieth century. And he realized right then that he would always have a problem developing a meaningful relationship with a woman who didn't really know who and what he had been. So much of his life was entwined in his past--he couldn't help always coming back to the experiences he had lived in his long life. That was the person he was, even though the vampire was no longer part of him. It had been so easy with Nat--she had known his life, his soul, even if sometimes he'd purposely withheld from her the more gruesome parts of his past. Perhaps it was because he'd cared so much what she thought of him--he hadn't wanted her to know the full horror of it. And yet, he knew that she'd always known the things he'd been afraid to tell her. And she'd loved him anyway....

He looked into Dina's eyes as she went on about something or the other. It saddened him to see none of the depth there that he wanted to see. He could never share his secret with her. She would never understand. Even if she could, could he ever build a closeness with anyone as he had had with Natalie?

He didn't know if he even wanted to.

Dina had seen him staring into her eyes, and interpreted it as something else altogether. "Did anyone ever tell you you've got the most gorgeous blue eyes?" she said bringing her face close to his.

"Not in the last century or so," he quipped, and she laughed as if it were a joke.

"Nick, what do you say we go dancing?" Her hand was on his, and she began to caress it softly. "A friend of mine told me that this place called the Raven is really phat..."

He laughed to hear a vampire hang-out described in such a way. "If you like gothic, I suppose."

"I love the whole gothic scene," she told him, and by her

dark brown lipstick, black eyeliner, and dyed jet-black hair against the paleness of her white skin, he realized it must be so. If only she'd known she'd been attracted to a former vampire!

At first he hesitated. The Raven could be a dangerous place. Yet he'd been there several times in the last year, and had felt perfectly at home. Perhaps it was because he knew that Janette would never let harm come to him, or anyone with him. "Okay, sure," he said. "Let's go there."

"You know the place?' she asked excitedly, as if somehow that made him look better in her eyes.

"Yeah, the owner's a friend of mine."

He paid the check, and they took off in his car.

It would be good to go to the Raven. It was one of the few places he truly felt comfortable these days. And besides, the alcohol sounded like a great idea right now.

The blaring music made conversation difficult, and Nick was glad for that. He'd tried his best to be good company, but it just wasn't in him. And the alcohol certainly did help to put him at ease--but a major side affect was that it brought his depression, ever-lurking, to the surface. He tried to drown it in more, and soon the room began to take on that surreal look it had had the night before.

Janette hadn't come over to them, just watched from afar. He smiled to himself every time he saw her looking their way. She was clearly checking Dina out, and wouldn't approach until she'd made a judgement one way or the other. Other times, this would have annoyed him, but something made him find it awfully amusing tonight. Dina didn't seem to notice, too absorbed in the atmosphere and drink.

"Do you want to dance?' she asked at one point. He took her hand and followed her to the dance floor. But when the number changed to a slow dance, he went to sit, and she pulled him back. "Oh no, I'm not gonna let you off so easily." Before he knew it she had put her arms around his neck; and as he held her trim waist, she pressed against him seductively, moving her body with the rhythm of the song.

"Hello, Nicolas..." The song had ended and Janette was upon them as if she had come out of nowhere. Actually, Nick was grateful for the excuse to release Dina, whose provocative movements had made him highly uncomfortable. Dina looked on defiantly at Janette as the latter reached up to give Nick a kiss on the lips. In his inebriated state, he responded with the usual passion that still earmarked their relationship.

"Dina, this is Janette, an old friend. Janette, this is Dina. We work together."

"Nice to meet you," Dina said with a cordial smile.

Janette didn't waste the effort of a smile. "The pleasure is mine. Now didn't you say you were looking for the ladies' room?"

Dina's stare was confused as Janette looked into her eyes. "Yes..."

Janette pointed her in the right direction, saving her smile for Nick after the other woman had walked off in a daze.

"That wasn't very nice," Nick scolded her, although somehow he found still found it all amusing.

"Dance with me," she commanded, and he complied, not because she had made the suggestion, but because he wanted to. "So, this is that woman you were talking about..."

"I thought you were all for the idea?"

"I was, until I saw her. Nicolas, she must be twenty five years old!"

He sighed wearily. "I am going to always have trouble finding a woman my age."

She rolled her eyes. "You were thirty-four when you were brought over. So try to use that as a guide, all right?"

He brought her closer to whisper in her ear. "I think you're just jealous."

She glared at him. "Nonsense. I just don't approve of her. At least Natalie was somewhat pretty, and intelligent. This one..."

She stopped as his face clouded over at the mention of her name. "I'm sorry, Nick. But I liked Natalie. I really did."

"I know," he said quietly, touching her cheek.

"She was good for you. I just wish you would find someone more like her."

He stopped dancing, as the depression came flooding back. "There isn't anyone like her, Janette. And there never will be."

He gave her a kiss and went back to his table.

Time for another drink.

Janette went back to the bar, more concerned about Nick than ever. It was true. She had liked Natalie. She had made Nick happy, and if she had lived, Nick would have had the kind of life he'd always wanted. But this woman was all wrong for him. And the worst part was, Nicolas knew it too.

"Jealous, my dear?" She spun around to see LaCroix. Preoccupied, she hadn't sensed his approach. She took a deep breath, fearing that the inevitable confrontation was about to take place. She couldn't deal with that now. And Nick was certainly in no condition to.

"Leave him alone, LaCroix, please."

"Our friend seems to be enjoying himself. Is this woman someone I should know about?"

Janette shook her head. "She means nothing to him. He's still trying to work out his grief over what happened to Natalie."

LaCroix nodded with feigned sympathy. "Poor Nicholas. Still in mourning. He certainly does seem to be abusing the alcohol. I don't remember him being such a heavy drinker when we found him."

Janette looked him in the eyes, with a boldness she would never have had courage for if she hadn't been so concerned for Nick. "LaCroix, I beg you--let him be. He has to find his own peace. He's lost to us--and even to himself."

LaCroix raise his eyebrows. "It would seem to me that he needs us now more than ever. Being human hasn't turned out exactly as he thought."

"That's only because of Natalie's death," Janette retorted, becoming scared now of what LaCroix was scheming.

"Yes," he said absently. "What a tragedy."

"I hear you have a new companion..." she ventured, trying to change the subject. "Why haven't you brought her around?"

"Oh, she's not quite ready," he replied glancing at Nick. "But she will be soon." He turned back to Janette. "Don't worry--I won't seek Nicholas. But the time may come when he wishes to see me. Let him know I have a suite at the downtown Hilton, under the name of Burroughs."

Janette nodded and LaCroix was gone. And she had a terrible feeling that he had some major plan in the works that was about to unfold.

Once more, he'd been in no shape to drive home. Despite her experience with hypnotic suggestion, Dina's mind was far clearer, and before he knew it, she had pulled up to his warehouse. He didn't protest. He certainly wouldn't be able to get himself back from her place, and he could always call for a cab for her.

"Come on, I'm dying to see your apartment," she said, leading him by the hand. "Schanke told me all about it--"

He was really beginning to resent Don Schanke at this moment, but he was too drunk to respond. He was glad he hadn't changed the door combination in a while, because he'd never have been able to remember it. The door slid open, and Dina took his hand as they went inside.

And somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew this was going to be a mistake.

Neither Dina nor Nick had seen the pale creature watching from across the street. His eyes glowed red in his satisfaction. This could not be working out more perfectly if he had planned it himself.

"Have fun, Nicholas," he said in a mocking tone. "And remember--we'll be watching you."

Natalie was waiting anxiously by the door when he returned. She'd finished off the last of her supply of cow's blood, and gladly took the bottle LaCroix offered her. She had to have her fill. It would be the only way to maintain self-control.

"Come, sweet Natalie," he said all too pleasantly. "Let's see what your Nicholas has been up to."

Dina loved his apartment--the high ceilings, antiques, paintings...Before he could stop her, she'd picked up everything at least once, quite inquisitive as to how he'd collected so many things in his brief lifetime. "How old are you, anyway?" she asked. "Schanke wasn't sure--"

If only she knew just how little Schanke really knew about him. "Thirty-four," he blurted without a thought, because Janette had told him so. Then it occurred to him that he'd been aging normally for a year. "Thirty-five," he corrected himself.

She looked at him curiously. "When's your birthday?"

His memory wasn't that good. It'd been a long time since he'd celebrated. "Sometime in March, I think," he answered truthfully.

Dina shook her head. "You really are out of it," she commented.

Suddenly, she spotted it. The white sheet covering it caught her eyes, and before Nick could grab her arm, she'd uncovered the painting of Natalie.

"Did you do this?" she asked in awe. "That's great! Who is she?"

He hesitated. No one had seen this, and it angered him that his privacy had been invaded thus. "Someone--I was very close to."

She looked at the painting again, than back at him. "Natalie?" she guessed.

Damn Schanke! "Yes," he said, his annoyance apparent, as he took the sheet to recover the painting. He hesitated a moment. Once again, the alcohol made her eyes seem almost alive. He covered it then, more to protect Natalie from seeing this woman here than from anything else. Guilt overwhelmed him.

"Nick, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry. It's just that Don told me about her."

"What did he tell you?" he snapped.

She put a hand on his arm to calm him. "Just that she was very important to you--and she was killed last year."

He tried to control his emotions as the memories came rushing back, as they always came rushing back. "Did he tell you that I loved her?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

She came closer to him, dangerously close. "I know you did. I can see that." Her hand had gone up to his cheek, but he gently grabbed her wrist, holding it back.

"Look, Dina, I'm sorry. But you've got to know the truth--I'm not over this. I won't be for a very long time."

"That's okay," she said, lacing her fingers around his neck. "We all carry pain, Nick. Just let me have a chance to try to help you get over yours..." And with that she brought her lips to his, kissing him passionately as she pressed her body against his, the same way as she had done on the dance floor. And beyond his control, his body began to respond...

"I haven't seen the upstairs yet," she whispered in his ear. "What's there?"

"Just the bedroom," he responded, as she kissed his neck, although somehow, he knew Schanke had already told her that.

"Show me," she said, taking his hand.

Dina's eyes lit up as she saw his bed, neatly made with the red and black satin sheets and comforter that were his favorites. She sat down, running her fingers along the pillow. "Satin. I like that. Very sexy."

She reached out he hand and he took it, letting her pull him down to sit beside her. "I never really thought about it," he said.

"Nothing like lying naked on satin," she told him as she nuzzled at his neck. "You really should try it sometime." With her arms around him, she gently pushed him down to lie with her.

His head was spinning, his senses confused from the drink. He could feel his own arousal, try as he might to fight it. Everything was happening so quickly, as in a dream...

"Dina," he breathed heavily as she began to unbutton his shirt. "I don't...want this now. I'm not ready..."

She giggled in response as her hand went to the bulge in his pants. "Yes you are, Nick. You want me. Don't you see?"

And he did want her. But how could he possibly explain to her that it was a purely physical need, a result of almost 800 years of abstinence from the kind of sexual contact that mortals enjoyed? A sexual desire borne of the year and a half of frustration over the unconsummated love that he and Natalie had almost shared, but of which they'd been deprived.

No, his heart and his soul did not want this. But his physical urges were too strong, his will too weakened by the alcohol in his system to resist what she was offering him so freely.

Her fingers fluttered lightly down his chest, his stomach, working now on his belt, his zipper. He gasped as she released him, fondling him, sending waves of desire through his body.

"Oh yeah, you want me all right..." she said huskily as she toyed with him.

His lips crushed against hers, and she thrust her tongue into his mouth, exploring him. His hands took on a life of their own, ravaging her soft flesh. He reached under the black tank top she'd been wearing, only to confirm what he had suspected all night--that she wore nothing beneath. She moaned in pleasure as he caressed her breasts, finally pulling away her shirt, leaving her exposed for his mouth to discover.

"Do you see how much I want you..." she whispered. "Touch me, Nick..." And with that she guided his hand between her thighs.

He reached up, shocked to find nothing but her warm wetness. The pure decadence of it excited him, making his desire almost too much to bear.

Yet with it came guilt. This was wrong. A betrayal. To Natalie. To himself. And even to Dina.

Dina was talking to him now, asking something about condoms. "I don't have..." he managed. How to explain that he'd never even used one?

With a kiss, she told him she'd be right back, and he lay against the pillows, closing his eyes. Still the room reeled about him. Now was the time to stop it. I can't do this...

But then she was back, touching him again, taking him in her mouth. And just as he felt he would explode from the sensation, she moved away. He could feel her placing the condom on him now, then laying down to face him.

"I'll make you forget everything," she promised, bringing her lips to his again.

And as he looked into her eyes, he knew just how wrong this was. She couldn't make him forget. No one could. And sex with her would never assuage his unfulfilled desire to make love to Natalie.

"You will forget," she said, reading his eyes. "Just give me a chance to show you..." And she lay back on the satin pillows, beckoning him to take her.

He felt as if he would burst for want of her. And as she pulled him on top of her, he knew all restraint was lost. His body was acting on its own now, heedless of what he knew was a mistake. He'd lost control as he hadn't since he'd been a vampire. Helpless, he closed his eyes and did the unthinkable...

In his mind he saw Natalie. Natalie before him, her flowing brown hair on his pillow, her large blue eyes sparkling with her love for him. He saw her as she was that night, with the lacy black bra that he'd nearly ripped away. He imagined it was Natalie who lay beneath him, Natalie whom he entered. And the thought of her empowered him as he thrust urgently into her again an again. And when she cried out with his eruption, it was Natalie's voice he heard, and Natalie's arms which held him tightly...

If only he'd known that Natalie had been there...watching. LaCroix had brought her here, on the pretext of making sure that Nick was all right. But what she'd witnessed had torn her apart, filled her with a rage so uncontrollable that it frightened her.

There was Nick before her now, touching this woman in ways she'd only dreamed he might touch her. And as the woman explored him, teased him, sharing intimacies with him that Natalie and Nick had never know together, she turned away. "I...can't watch this..." she said steadily, although blood tears streaked her cheeks.

But LaCroix held her there, suspended in air outside Nick's bedroom window, turning her head so that she would be forced to see every detail of Nick's lovemaking with this woman.

"He seems to rather enjoy it, doesn't he?" LaCroix asked in amusement.

"Please," she begged weakly.

"No, Natalie, look. See what you've...given him. You made him human so that he could enjoy these mortal pleasures with harlots such as that one..."

"Stop..." she pleaded, trying to look away, but he held her head tightly in his grasp.

"Did he ever do that to you, Natalie? Pleasure you that way...? See the intensity of his lovemaking...the passion as he thrusts himself into her...Did he ever give any of that passion to you, the one who loved him enough to give up her soul for him?!"

Despair and jealousy raged within her. But with it a fury that LaCroix, and this sight before her, were slowly awakening.

"Does she deserve this from him, Natalie?" LaCroix continued to taunt, though his tone was one of sympathy towards her. "Does she deserve the love he never gave to you?"

"No!" she growled, breaking free from his grasp. And when she looked at him, her eyes were glowing a deep red, her fangs extended, her face contorted in her anguish and fury.

LaCroix would not make her watch this. She couldn't. She couldn't bear to see this woman with Nick in a way that she had never been. And her rage was matched only by her intense love for him, and desire.

Her hunger for him.

In anger she broke from LaCroix, flying to the street below.

He did not follow. It was too entertaining to watch what was going on inside the loft. In any case, the wheels had been set into motion. All he could do was wait for his plan to unfold.

With his release had come sobriety, and a realization of what he had done. The woman lying beside him was a stranger, nothing to him. And he had used her as an embodiment to his fantasy of the woman he could never have.

The worst part was that she knew it. For all her protestations to the contrary, Nick knew that she'd truly hoped to overwhelm him so that he would forget Natalie. But she had to know now that it could never come to pass. He tried to put his arms around her, hold her as he knew he should. But the feeling was not there, and could never be. The guilt was as unbearable as his lust had been, and he swore to himself that he would never use another woman in this way again.

"It's my fault, Nick," she said, as if sensing his thoughts. "I went after you--in a big way. I wanted you. But that wasn't me you were making love to."

He had no answer for her, but, "I'm sorry." It didn't seem to fit.

She stood from the bed, reaching for her clothes, and he sat up. "Where are you going, Dina? It's late."

"Home," she said simply.

He rose to face her, embarrassed in spite of their act to stand unclothed with her. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Stay. Please." But even as he said it, he knew that he really did want her to leave. He wanted no more company than the guilt and despair that would be his constant companions.

She pulled away from him, her embarrassment turning now to anger. He followed her to the foot of the stairs.

"I need to go home," she insisted. "Maybe we'll talk tomorrow--I just want to get out of here--"

"No, stay, please, Nat--"

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing he'd made the worst faux pas imaginable at this moment.

"My name is Dina," she said angrily, and the door slid shut behind her.

Natalie set down in front of the warehouse, unable to draw herself away, as she struggled to regain control of both her body and her mind. Her eyes were bright red flames, her fangs extended as if permanently, her entire body trembling as if she would explode. The visions of what she had just witnessed made her dizzy, and in the pit of her stomach she could feel the hunger that threatened to consume her. Her throat was parched, her mouth dry, pleading her for the taste of blood, while all the while her head pounded in excruciating pain...

She closed her eyes, fighting against her uncontrollable rage. But the figures danced before her, Nick and that woman intertwined in the throes of passion.

Who was she? What right did she have to be with him!? And the part of her body that could still remember her mortal desires ached for want of him. What didn't he ever love me like that? Did he ever love me at all? And while her heart knew the answers, they were buried now deep beneath the beastly veneer that threatened to extinguish every last vestige of her humanity.

His Caddy was there, and she grabbed onto the hood to steady herself. A vision flashed through her now perfect memory of the day he'd thought he'd been cured...and driven her directly to Janette's. The jealousy had burned within her then, but she'd repressed it. Just as she had every time he'd been with Janette...or Anne Foley...or Monica Howard...or Emily Weiss..

Always so understanding! she mocked herself bitterly. She'd nearly handed him over on a platter whenever she'd thought his happiness might be at issue. His happiness. Always his happiness, and never hers. And now that she had bought him his peace with her soul, he entertained himself with women who couldn't possibly love him as she had all these years. She felt like a fool, now, as if he and that woman were making a fool out of her at this very moment...,

Yet still she wanted him. With a desire that mixed passion and hunger, love and thirst...

Did he love this woman? Did he ever love me? she asked herself, as the remains of her soul dropped into the lowest depths of sorrow. And somewhere, a faint memory hung over her, teasing her, then obscuring itself once more in her subconscious...Nick's voice....Do you really think this is about love? This is about survival...She knows my secret...She's working to lift this curse from me...if she happens to be infatuated with me, then isn't it in my best interests to humor her...

It was gone as quickly as it had come, forgotten once more as it had been. But the hurt remained, the betrayal of something she could no sooner remember than understand. And the frustration of not knowing what he had done to make her doubt his love fueled the flame of her rage...

A noise. She turned to the door to see a figure emerge. No, not Nick...

It was her. And the fury that welled within Natalie could no longer be contained.

Her victim had no time to scream. Natalie pounced on her from behind, her nails digging into the woman's throat. "No! Stop, please!" the woman rasped, her words choked by Natalie's grip.

"Do you love him?" Natalie hissed angrily, in a voice much lower than her own.

"How could she possibly love him as you do?" LaCroix said calmly, suddenly appearing at her side.

"Please...let go..."

"Do you love him?!" Natalie insisted, tightening her hold on the woman's neck, struggling against the impulse to break it.

"No! Please...let me..."

Natalie's face burned with her anger. If this woman had loved Nick, if he had loved her, perhaps Natalie could exist with what she had seen. But the humiliation of knowing that Nick had given to this insignificant woman what he had never given to her was unbearable. "I won't let you have him again..." she breathed as her mouth poised to strike.

And in her own words, she heard LaCroix. And it was then that she knew that she was damned. For with the act of wanton violence, of jealousy, of revenge, and all the ugly emotions that had been dredged up from the depths of her being, she would finally lose her humanity, just as she had lost Nick. But the despair of knowing this was too great for her to care. Her teeth met Dina's flesh...

And the scent of Nick, his cologne, his being, touched her nostrils. But rather than enrage her to find it upon this woman, it flooded her with sweet memories of him, reaching out to the last vestige of her that was Natalie Lambert. Her eyes filled with blood tears as LaCroix said, "Do it! She doesn't deserve to live after being with Nicholas as you never could!"

"No! I can't" she cried, and threw the woman's limp form to the ground.

She flew off, LaCroix behind her.

Nick sat at the piano, unable to sleep. And as his fingers danced along the ivory and black keys, the melody he played was a new one... a slow haunting tune that emerged from the depths of his pain.

He hated himself for what he'd done. Dina hadn't deserved to be used that way. And had a few moments of sexual thrill done anything to ease his suffering? No--it had only exacerbated it. For as he'd lain there with Dina, his only thoughts were of Natalie, and the life they'd never had a chance to share. Had he ever imagined, in the last three years, that the first woman he'd make love to as a mortal man would not be Natalie? Perhaps his hesitance to be intimate with Dina, with anyone, had been borne of his reluctance to accept the fact that he never would share the intimacies with Natalie that he'd only dared imagine possible. His night with Dina had left him sick with frustration, guilt, and a depression that he felt might never go away.

He'd stopped playing, and rose to go to her painting. "I'm sorry, Nat," he said in a broken whisper, touching her cheek and imagining the warmth of her skin.

A doorbell broke his reverie. He went to the monitor, and as he switched it on, his eyes opened wide.

"Nick, help me!"

It was Dina, her face wet with tears, her hand grabbing at her throat as if in pain. In moments, he had gone to her, taking her limp form in his arms, and carrying her inside. "It's okay," he told her as he lay her down on the couch.

She looked up at him as if still in shock, reaching again for her throat. Gently, Nick took her hand in his, then examined her neck...

His heart missed a beat, and his eyes filled with silent rage as he saw the tiny puncture wounds fresh with her blood. No one had fed from her, yet her skin had been pierced, and her throat was slowly swelling with bruises where she'd been clawed. "What happened, Dina?" he asked, the anger and guilt almost suffocating his words.

"Someone...grabbed me...from behind..."

"Who was it? Did you know? Did they say anything?"

Her face was filled with confusion. "Don't remember...A woman..."

Nick took in a breath. A woman? But who? Janette? She hadn't like Dina, but would she be capable of...?

Dina had begun to softly cry, and he wished at that moment that he still had the power to ease her pain. But he didn't. And when he held her in his arms, and whispered, "Sleep," he knew that it was a suggestion, and no longer a command.

When he was sure the dazed woman head drifted off, he carried her upstairs, easing her down on the bed. He watched her for a moment to be sure she was asleep, then went quietly downstairs.

He picked up the phone.

"Janette."

The woman hesitated. "What is it, Nicolas? You sound upset."

He breathed a sigh of relief. There was no doubt in his mind it hadn't been her. "Janette, I need a favor..."

"Stupidity! Pure stupidity!"

LaCroix's eyes were amber, filled with the same ire as his voice. But Natalie sat numbly on the couch, barely hearing him.

"Do you realize how dangerous it is to attack someone, and leave them alive? A police woman, yet--"

Natalie looked up at him sharply, wondering how he knew this, but then replied wearily, "She didn't see either of us."

"That was careless, Natalie. Sloppy. Have I taught you nothing? You can not leave a trail of victims in your wake. it arouses suspicion, and a danger for all of us--"

"Then let's go," she said abruptly, looking him in the eyes.

He raised his eyebrows with more than a hint of surprise. "Go?"

"Yes, go." She stood defiantly to face him. "Nick has to get on with his life, and I have to get on with mine. I don't want to be here anymore." It hurts too much, she didn't add, but no doubt LaCroix knew her too well not to read it in her eyes.

His voice softened with his expression. "Is that what you truly want?"

She nodded, holding back the tears.

LaCroix put his hand up to her cheek, in a tenderness that was rare for him. "Then we shall go. Tomorrow night."

When Natalie was gone, his gaze lingered after her. She was always surprising him, but no more than his own reaction to her. She was extraordinary in so many ways...What would Nicholas think if he knew that she had retained so much of her mortal values, and principles, despite having become one of them? As much as the challenge of leading her to kill had been entertaining, her self-control, and refusal to compromise her values was just as interesting to him. For whereas Nicholas' quest had always irritated him, Natalie's vow to cling to her humanity intrigued him...allured him. Unlike Nicholas, who had fallen so many times, Natalie had not.

"But time will tell. And we do have time," he said to no one but himself. But somehow, he knew that Natalie would keep him entertained for decades, no matter what the outcome.

It was a thought that he found both comforting and irritating at once.

"All right, Nicolas, what's so import--" Janette stopped mid-sentence as she saw the young girl lying on his bed.

"She was attacked. By one of--you."

She gave him a sharp glance as she realized that he'd been about to say "us". She looked at the wounds. "Whoever it is, was very sloppy--inexperienced. And for some reason, they stopped."

He let out a breath. "She said it was a woman."

She looked up at him. "Don't even tell me that you suspected me. I didn't like her for you, but that doesn't mean--"

He put a hand on hers. "No. I know."

She looked at him playfully. "Besides, I would have finished what I'd started."

He wasn't amused. "Janette, come on. This is serious. Do you have any idea who might have done this? If she hadn't said it was a woman, I wouldn't have put it past LaCroix--"

Janette thought a moment. "There is that rumor about a female companion he has now. I've never seen her, but even if he weren't that careless, she might be naive enough to leave something like this." Her eyes filled with worry. "Nick, this is dangerous. If anyone should find out--"

"They won't. That's why I asked you to come over. I can't make her forget. But you can..."

"I knew there was a catch--"

"Janette, do this for me." His eyes pleaded with her. "For the whole community as well. She's a police woman. She'll report the attack, have the wounds examined..."

"And what do you expect me to do about that? I can't make them go away."

"She was grazed," he said, pointing to the small cuts, where scabs were already forming. "She has bruises. Make a suggestion to her that she was mugged. She didn't see the attacker. There'll be no investigation."

Janette looked at him curiously. "There's something you're not telling me. Why was she outside alone in the middle of the night? It must have been three a.m."

He looked down. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Suffice to say, it was my fault." His eyes met hers. "Janette, please."

Janette nodded, and reached out to touch Dina's temple. "Dina..." she said softly. And as the young woman's eyes fluttered open, Janette met her frightened expression with a calming gaze. "I'm Janette, Dina...Nick's friend...You met me at the Raven tonight. I'm here to help you..."

Dina's face relaxed, as she stared transfixed at Janette. "I was attacked...a woman...bit my neck..."

"Who was the woman, Dina? Can you describe her?"

Nick shot her a glance as he realized what she planned to do. The vampire who had done this was a threat to their society in Toronto. If Janette could identify the culprit...

"Behind me..." Dina said in a small voice. "Her hands...dug into my neck...couldn't see her...just hear her voice..."

"What did she say?" Janette moved closer to her face, listening intently.

"She asked, 'Do you love him?'"

Janette shot a glance at Nick, whose confusion mirrored her own. "Go on, Dina," she prodded gently. "What else did she say?'

"She said, 'I won't let you have him again.' and then...and then..."

"It's all right," Janette said soothingly, to calm her agitation.

"She bit me..."

"Was there anything else?" Janette asked. "Do you remember anything else?"

"A man...a blond man...tall...red eyes...he said, 'Do it...she doesn't deserve to live after being with Nicholas as you never could.'"

Janet drew in a deep breath and looked at Nick. His face was devoid of emotion. She turned back to Dina, who stared at her blankly. "Sleep, now. and forget...none of this happened. A man tried to mug you...he grabbed you by the throat...then ran away when Nick came outside."

Soon, Dina had fallen into a peaceful slumber.

Nick took Janette's hand as she rose to face him. "Who can it be?" he whispered.

Janette shook her head. "I have no idea. We do know one thing--she's with LaCroix."

"Then tell me where to find him."

He could see Janette's hesitation.

"I know you know where he is."

"I do, Nicolas. But this is a trap. I know it. He told me he wouldn't bother you, but said he expected you might look for him...."

"Then tell me where he is."

Janette's face flooded with real worry. "Nick, you can't fight him anymore. He'll swat you like a fly."

"If he'd wanted to kill me, he's had a year and a half to do it."

"Time is meaningless to LaCroix. You know that. He'll wait centuries for a plan to come together simply because he can."

But Nick was determined. "I won't let him interfere in my life like this anymore. An innocent woman was almost murdered just because she had the misfortune of knowing me."

"He'll kill you," she said passionately, and he knew by the look in her eyes that she was truly afraid.

He lifted his hand to her cheek. "I'm prepared for him, Janette. But I need to surprise him. And to do that, I need to know where he sleeps."

Janette's mouth opened wide as she realized what he planned to do. "Nicolas, you wouldn't. He'll know--"

"Not if you don't tell him," he said with deliberate meaning.

She turned away from him as if to go, but he caught her from behind. "Nick, I won't let you two drag me into this again..."

"I don't want you involved. This is something I have to do myself. He told you to tell me where he is. That's all I'm asking you to do."

Reluctantly, she told him, then kissed him passionately as if she thought it might be the last time. "Be careful, ma vie," she said softly, and then was gone into the night.

Sleep evaded him that night. For try as he might, he could not even begin to imagine who the mysterious female vampire had been. Who could possibly have loved him and been hurt so bitterly that she would endanger the vampire community with such a botched attack? Even Janette, who found it no easier to hide her jealousy than control it, would know better. Only one thing was for certain--whoever she was, she was being controlled by LaCroix. And LaCroix had goaded her into this attack just as surely as if he'd performed it himself.

That was why Nick had to stop him. Before other innocents suffered. Before LaCroix made a mortal life for him impossible.

He slipped into the bedroom, and slid open the drawer where he kept the gun. It had been here for the past year and a half, one precaution of many he'd taken to defend himself in his new, vulnerable state. But today, it would be more than self defense--it would be a matter of survival. He slipped it into the holster beneath his jacket as he heard her voice.

"Nick?" Dina was stirring, and he sat beside her, taking her hand.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

She looked at him in confusion for a moment as her head cleared, then said, "Okay. But my neck..." She raised her free hand to her throat, her fingers brushing lightly against the bruises. "That guy really grabbed me good--thank God you came outside just then..."

Nick breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that Janette had been successful, as Dina struggled to a sitting position. "I'd better get home. I'm sorry about this--"

Nick shook his head, squeezing her hand as he looked into her eyes. "No, Dina, I'm sorry. About everything. I like you, I really do. And I am very attracted to you. But--"

"You still love her," she finished for him. "I know."

"I want to move on," he told her honestly. "I just don't think I can right now."

"It's okay," she told him, reaching over to kiss him lightly on the lips. "Look, maybe sometime...when you're ready..."

He smiled and nodded, really wishing it could be so. Yet after he'd dropped her off at her apartment, he was glad that she was gone, and knew that right now, he wanted no more companionship than his memories, and his pain. For while he held onto them, Natalie was still with him. And he wasn't ready to let go.

He started up the car. Later he would escape into his dreams. Right now, he had to concentrate all his energies on one thing--driving LaCroix from his life once and for all.

Natalie had been unable to sleep. For every time she'd closed her eyes she'd seen before her the young woman, tasted her blood, and smelled Nick's scent on her skin...It was a nightmare from which she'd never escape. Just as she'd never forget the vision of Nick as he'd made love to this stranger, sharing ecstasies that she herself had never known with him...

Guilt overwhelmed her. She had done this all to give Nick back his life. He believed her to be dead. How could she fault him for seeking happiness with another woman? Yet her love for him was still so overpowering...the mere thought of him elicited desires and hungers that she could not control.

That was why she had to go. To free Nick, and herself. And most importantly, to keep LaCroix far from him.

Time was meaningless to LaCroix, as it now was to her. But to Nick, every moment was now precious. What effort would it take to placate LaCroix, keep him far from this place for the next fifty years or so? And then, when Nick was nothing more than a memory, she would welcome the sunlight, let it envelope her, and pray that she would find herself with him in another place...

Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she found the bottle of cow's blood. Nick! I'll miss you! Be happy, my love!

The maid seemed frightened at the sight of his badge, but when he flashed her a smile, she was only to happy to provide him with the house key, before hurrying down the hall as he'd asked her to....

Nick took a deep breath before turning the key in the lock. A click. He opened the door, a crack at first, peering in. Darkness, as he'd expected. He stepped inside.

His eyes adjusted to the light. In the shadows a figure approached him. A woman...

Suddenly, his heart stopped, and his body trembled so, that he could hardly speak. A word managed to escape. Her name. "Natalie?"

A whisper at first, then a cry of joy as he reached out to her. There she stood before him in all her radiance, her long hair flowing, her blue eyes filled with her love for him just as before. His hands went to her face...

...and felt its chill. And he knew. And as she saw the realization on his face, a blood tear made its way down her pale skin....

"Oh my God," he said, barely audibly, as he drew her into his arms.

"Nick, I'm sorry..." she said in a voice choked with emotion. "I never wanted you to know..." And in the dim light he could see her eyes turning a pale amber.

Unafraid, he crushed his lips against hers, tasting her hungrily, heedless of the blood that still lingered in her mouth, and the fangs that had begun to protrude. Their tears intermingled, salt and blood. She pulled away from him suddenly, and he could see in her face that she was struggling to maintain her control. How well he understood that feeling! How often he had felt it when he'd kissed her! "It's okay," he whispered, caressing her hair. "It's okay."

She looked up at him, her eyes blue again, but filled with a deeper despair than he had ever seen there. "Nick, you have to go," she said in a hushed whisper. "Please..."

"Not without you," he replied, hugging her to him again. "Oh, God, Nat, what did he do to you...?"

"God has nothing to do with it. You know that, Nicholas."

LaCroix stood in the doorway, and Nick tightened his hold on Natalie, his fury erupting. "You bastard! What right did you have to do this?!"

LaCroix laughed. "I have the right to do whatever I please, to whomever I please. I only did what you should have done a long time ago, Nicholas." His face was smug as he taunted, "I find her to be a very satisfying companion--in so many ways..." His voice trailed off with just the right hint of what Nick had feared most. Nick started towards him in frenzy, but Natalie held him back with a strength greater than his own.

"No, Nick. He's lying, trying to get to you--"

"And why not, Natalie?" LaCroix broke in. "If I had had my way with you, what would that matter to Nicholas? After his display last night, I would think that you'd feel quite justified in being with whomever you choose--"

Nick closed his eyes in an awful realization. He turned to Natalie, his shame even greater as he saw the pain on her face. "My God, Natalie, you were there?" And at her nod, it all fell into place. "That's why you attacked Dina..."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "He brought me there...made me watch...I couldn't control it. Please Nick, don't hate me..."

He gathered her back into his arms. "I love you," he said passionately, "and I'm taking you away from here!"

LaCroix took a step towards them, his eyebrows raised in amusement. "So now you say you love her, Nicholas? Why, it wasn't very long ago that you denied your love quite vehemently. Don't you remember? Oh, I'm sure Natalie doesn't..."

Natalie looked from one to the other, and Nick knew that a memory had stirred within her subconscious, a memory he would have wished to spare her from. But this was no time to explain. He merely glared at LaCroix, as he replied angrily, "If you hadn't known that I was lying, you never would have done this to her!"

"Oh, but that's where you're mistaken," he said matter-of-factly. "Your dear Natalie chose to be brought over, much as you did."

"Do you expect me to believe that?!"

"Ask her yourself. And ask her where she found that miracle cure that restored you to this pitiful existence...Ask her about the bargain she struck with me..."

Aghast, Nick looked down at her, at the distress in her eyes, and he knew that it was true. She had traded her soul for his! A myriad of emotions flooded him...grief, and guilt, countered by the indescribable joy of seeing her alive! But no, not alive. Existing, controlled by the evil desires he had known so well, and held captive by LaCroix. "It doesn't matter how this came about, LaCroix, " he said, his gaze not leaving hers. "She's mine, and I won't leave without her."

"Oh, really?" LaCroix's eyes were deep yellow, as his fangs began to extend.

"Stop it!" Natalie said suddenly, bringing herself between the two men, separating them. "LaCroix, you gave me your word you wouldn't hurt him!"

"You know our deal," he told her in a low growl. "He won't let you go now that he knows you're alive."

Natalie swallowed hard. "Then make him forget. Or I will. And we'll leave this place as we planned. But I won't let you go back on your promise to let him live in peace!" She turned to Nick, her eyes pleading him as she reached up to touch his temple. And Nick could feel her penetrating into his thoughts as she commanded, "Nick, you have to go. Leave, and forget you ever saw me alive..."

He reached up to grab her hand. "Don't even think about it."

She looked helplessly at LaCroix. "You have to do it, then!" she told him.

"It would seem Nicholas will not be hypnotized," LaCroix responded, his eyes still burning. "I see only one other choice, Natalie. You want him, don't you?"

She shook her head slowly as she looked into Nick's eyes. "Not like that," she said quietly. "Never."

"Then you leave me no choice," he snarled, baring his teeth.

And Nick knew that this was it--the trap that Janette had feared, the culmination of a perverse deception that had all but destroyed their lives for the past eighteen months. He reached for the gun, cursing himself for waiting so long. For he knew that before he could take aim, LaCroix would be upon him.

But Natalie too had seen LaCroix lunge towards Nick, and with vampiric speed was upon him. Nick watched, powerless, as Natalie flew into LaCroix, knocking him to the ground. Unscathed, LaCroix advanced towards his young childe, enraged. "How dare you presume to defy me!" he hissed as he struck her face with a powerful blow. Natalie fell rumpled to the floor as Nick looked on in dread.

"Nat!" he cried. And as LaCroix paused to revel in his satisfaction, Nick raised the gun to LaCroix's chest.

A shot. Another. And another. A barrage. And LaCroix fell back, his face a picture of astonishment. "Very clever, Nicholas," he gasped, immobile. "Wooden bullets..."

But Nick ignored him as he ran to Natalie, who lay dazed on the floor. "Nat!"

Blood ran down from a gash on her forehead, and her cheek bore the red imprint of his hand. Nick pulled her to her feet, grasping her arms to steady her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, and his entire body heaved with his sigh of relief. "C'mon, Nat, let's get out of here."

"What about him?" she asked, motioning to LaCroix.

"Yes, Nicholas, what about me?" LaCroix mocked them. "Do you really think a few wooden bullets through the heart will kill me?"

"No, LaCroix," Nick replied, his eye ablaze with his loathing. "That's why I brought this." And from beneath his jacket, he produced a machete, its sharp edge reflecting even the faint light leaking through the shades.

LaCroix was non-plussed, his face merely disdainful as he said, "So, Nicholas, this is how you repay eight hundred years of love and guidance from a father."

"No," he replied with equal contempt, refusing to even address the nature of their relationship. "This is how I repay eighteen months of hell. When you took her from me, when you did this to her, you broke all bounds! This is for Natalie!"

And with all the rage of his tortured spirit, he raised the machete above the neck of the prone vampire, ready to strike.

"Nick, no!"

Her voice halted his swing mid-air. "Why not, Nat?!" he said bitterly. "After all he's done to you--to us--how to you expect me to let him live?!"

"Because if you kill me, you'll destroy her only chance of becoming mortal again," LaCroix told him, his triumph overshadowing his physical pain.

"What kind of lies have you told her, LaCroix?" Nick accused.

"It's true, Nick," Natalie said, coming to stand beside him. "I'll explain later, but trust me. If you kill him, I'll never be mortal again...."

Through his rage he looked at her, into the sadness that had come to dwell in her eyes. He wanted to kill LaCroix, punish him for doing this to her. But he owed more to her than he could possibly give, and he loved her too much to deny her anything, least of all his trust. "All right," he said, lowering the blade. But the hatred still burned in his eyes as he looked at the being who had caused their suffering. "I'll save you for her, LaCroix. But I'd kill you for her just as easily!"

He gave his former sire no time to reply, taking Natalie by the hand as they fled from the room.

"Where are we going? It's daytime, remember?" she reminded him as he pulled her down the fire stairs.

He grinned, as their momentary freedom began to sink in. "And the Hilton has an underground garage, remember? It's your turn to ride in the trunk!"

By the time the Caddy had come to a permanent halt, Natalie was beginning to wonder why Nick hadn't become more claustrophobic hiding so often in the trunk of his car. The space was cramped, and the ride was certainly not as smooth as she remembered it from the front seat. She was relieved when the trunk opened, and her reached his hand in to help her. She jumped out, and stood to face him in the garage below the loft.

His eyes were moist as he looked at her, as if still incredulous to find her alive. "We're home," he said tenderly, as he brought his lips to hers.

And in his arms, Natalie truly began to feel safe for the first time in a long time.

Inside the door, she looked about the loft, thinking how so little had changed. She was about to turn to Nick when she heard a familiar voice.

"MEOW!"

"Sydney!" she said, almost crying as she picked him up. "Oh, God, I missed you!" She hugged him tightly as Nick came up to take them both in his arms.

"He missed you. We both did."

She accepted his kiss, loving the taste of his warmth. "Thank you for taking care of him..."

"He kept me company," he told her, running his hand along Sydney's forehead, before taking him from her and setting him down. He hugged her to him again, and she clung to him, not wanting to let go.

"You know we can't stay here," he said softly in her ear.

She looked into his eyes. "I can't stay here. He'll find me...sense me. You can't be with me. He'll find you too, and kill you--"

"Listen to me," he said adamantly. "You're not going anywhere without me, do you understand? I won't lose you again, I won't live without you again. Because I can't. There was nothing left for me when I thought you were gone. Nothing. I won't let you do that to me again. I won't let you leave me."

"I don't want to leave you again," she admitted in a whisper. She didn't. No matter how much she wanted to protect him. And even worse, she realized dismally that if she did leave, there would be no way to protect him against LaCroix. She reached out to kiss him again, seeking his love, his warmth, fighting the hunger that was so intertwined with her desire for him. She separated from him before she could lose control. "Where will we go?"

He smiled, and she could read the relief in his eyes that she would not fight him on this. "Anywhere you like. I've got bank accounts around the country, around the world. We can travel for a while, and then get Aristotle or one of his associates to make a new identity for us." He released her. "Let me just go make a phone call. We'll need to get some blood for you--"

"Cow, Nick, please," she told him, wanting him to know that she had tried to follow his practices. How would she ever tell him of the murders she had committed?

He nodded, and went to the phone. She sat on the couch, letting everything sink in. They were leaving. She was with Nick. Then why did her entire body feel so tense, as if there were so much unresolved? She did have to tell him everything--the Abarat, the bargain with LaCroix, and the blood she had drunk from her human victims. Could he forgive her for that, when she had still not forgiven herself? And then there was Nick himself. What had LaCroix meant about Nick's denying his love? What was that memory that kept haunting her, riding to the fringe of her conscious thought, then sinking back? And what of this Dina--just what did she mean to him?

"It's all set," he said as he plopped beside her. "It'll be here by noon. So we've got almost three hours to relax." His face took on concern as he must have read something in her expression. "What is it, Nat? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just--a lot has happened, to both of us. Things we need to talk about."

He took her hand, warming it in his own. "I know. There's a lot I want to know--but we've got time. Once we leave here--"

"Are you sure you want to leave?" she asked. "Can you leave everything...everyone...behind?"

His expression was one of perplexity, as if he couldn't imagine what she was talking about. "Of course, I'm sure, Nat--being with you is all that's important to me."

"What about Dina?" she dared.

He heaved a deep sigh, closing his eyes, and she knew he didn't want to talk about it. But she had to know.

"Nick, does she...mean something to you?--I mean, I couldn't blame you, after all, I was dead as far as you knew, and there wasn't even any real commitment between us--"

"Nat, stop," he pleaded, touching his fingers lightly to her lips to silence her. "Last night...was a mistake. I wish I could take it back, but I can't..."

She looked at him as it hit her. "You mean, last night was the first time you were with her?"

He nodded. "With her...with anyone. There's been no one else, Nat. I always belonged to you, whether or not I admitted it to you, or even myself..." He smiled at her wistfully. "Do you think love like this comes along more than once every eight hundred years?"

She returned his smile with a lingering kiss, settling against his chest as his arms warmed her entire being. "You don't know how much it hurt seeing you with her like that."

"I know," he said softly, stroking her hair. "And I'm so sorry..."

"He forced me to watch," she continued, needing to tell him. "He knew what it would do to me...I...didn't mean to hurt her. I just couldn't control it...I couldn't stand seeing her there with you like that...doing things you and I never--"

"I know." His voice was filed with pain, as he relived it with her.

"I felt such a rage...like I'd never felt before...as though I could kill her..."

"But you didn't," he reminded her, lifting her chin so that she could look at him. "You stopped."

"I could smell you on her...And LaCroix kept telling me to do it...But I couldn't..."

Nick wiped the blood tears from her cheek, lifting her face up to kiss her again. This time she lingered even longer, tasting him as she'd wanted to that night.

"The worst part of watching was wishing it were me there with you," she said with her face very close to his. "And knowing that we never could--"

"You were there," he told her tenderly. "I tried to go on, Nat. But I couldn't. All I could think about was you. So finally, I gave in, and I closed my eyes, and pretended it was you..." His face was filled with guilt as he admitted to her that he had known full well he'd been using this woman. "I couldn't bear the thought that you wouldn't be the first woman, the only woman, I'd make love to after becoming mortal..."

"I wish I had been," she breathed, still unable to get the image of him and Dina out of her mind.

Nick's face softened through his pain as he caressed her cheek. "You will be, Nat. That wasn't making love. It was sex. It was my body reacting. But now--" He took her face in his hands, kissing her gently, with an ever increasing desire. Soon Natalie felt herself caught up in it, in his passion, his love. She clung to him, desperately fighting to separate the human urges from the immortal ones. If only he could take her now, give her his love, and let her give her own without fear that her beast would emerge...

She wanted to lose herself in his warmth, his caress, his lips that brushed against her cool skin. How had she ever doubted his love? Hungrily she tasted his lips, his skin, the stubble of his beard, the smoothness of his neck...

"No!" she whimpered as she felt her eyes burning, and her fangs begin to emerge. His skin tasted so good...how sweet his blood would be! "No!" she cried more loudly, this time forcing herself to pull away. She jumped from the couch, ashamed, turning away so that he could not see what she had become.

"Nat, it's okay..."

"Stay away, Nick!" she shouted in a hoarse voice she could barely recognize as her own.

But his hands rested on her arms, and his head nestled against her shoulder, nuzzling at her neck. "It's okay," he whispered in her ear. "Just try to relax. Ride it out. It'll go away."

And as he massaged her arms, kissing her lightly now and again, she slowly began to regain her control. But her emotional restraint had withered to non-existence. She turned around to face him, frustrated, beaten. "So here we are where we started," she said bitterly.

"No--we've gone too far, Nat--"

"But we can't go any further--"

"Yes, we can," he said with meaning.

She backed away from him, a horrific realization coming to her. "Don't even suggest it--"

"And why not? Natalie, I want to be with you..."

No, this couldn't be Nick, not her Nick, who valued human life so. She pulled away from him even as he reached out to her. She was polluting him with her very presence, and she couldn't bear it. "You wanted to be mortal," she said evenly, reminding him.

"And I wanted to be with you," he countered. "I wanted to live and love again. My life has been, and will be, meaningless unless we can be together."

"And what do you think my life has been like!?" she exclaimed. "I did this for you, for your mortality! I went through utter hell so that you could be human! Do you think I'm going to bring you back to this?!"

She was becoming frantic and she knew it, but it was inconceivable to her that all she had gone through for him would be for naught. "I won't do it," she cried.

His face betrayed his guilt, and his eyes grew moist as he took her hand, squeezing it. "I know what you did for me," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "And it tears me up inside knowing that you've suffered like this because of me."

"You can't give up your mortality just because you feel guilty," she told him.

His eyes belied his hurt as he said, "Do you think that's all it is? Natalie, I love you! That's why I want to be with you; so we can go through this--search for a cure--together. Mortal or immortal, neither of us wants to be alone anymore..."

She could bear it no longer, as she fell into his arms, crying desolately. "I was so alone, Nick," she sobbed. "No one to turn to, no one to talk to...and he was constantly pushing, and pushing...making me do such things..."

"I'm here, now, Nat," he soothed her. "Tell me. I'm listening. And I'll understand...whatever it is..."

And she told him, could not stop telling him, once she'd begun. All the pain, the horror, the indignity that she'd suffered at the hands of LaCroix. She began with the cure, and the awful realization that without LaCroix's help, it would be useless...her fear that Nick would die...her desperation, and the unholy bargain to which it had led her... Her pain upon having to leave him, and the humiliation LaCroix had visited upon her when he'd brought her over....The starvation, and the man in the park...her vow to abstain from blood, that had been broken over a year later with the young man whose life she had stolen to satisfy her hunger. And once again, the jealousy that had enraged her, almost bringing her to kill the young woman in Nick's arms...

It all came out. Even that which she'd feared would repulse him, make him despise her. When she had finished, she heaved a deep sigh of relief. It was good to have finally gotten it out, to have shared it all with him. His face had remained unchanged throughout, although her account of how LaCroix had brought her over had engendered a silent fury in his eyes. She looked at him now, as if awaiting a comment. His only response was to draw her into his arms.

"Do you forgive me?" she asked, between his kisses.

"Oh God, Natalie, there's nothing for me to forgive," he said tenderly, his eyes belying his anguish. "But all your pain...suffering...it's because of me. I can't bear the thought of having done this to you."

"Just hold me," she whispered.

And this time, there was no vampire to intrude as he lay with her on the couch, caressing her in his loving embrace, kissing her gently as she closed her eyes and reveled in his touch. Had she ever imagined this peace could be possible again? How she wished this could be the end of it all. But would it ever be over?

"He'll come after us, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

"He always does," Nick replied dismally. "But this time, I won't let him touch you again, Nat," he vowed. "And someday, I'll make him pay for what he did to you."

And she knew before he said it that his mind had remained unchanged. He wanted to protect her, just as she did him. And there was only one way he felt capable of doing it.

"Don't you see now, Nat? He did all this to lure me back--"

"But then you're falling into his trap," she countered. "If I bring you over--"

"Then you prevent him from doing it first," he finished. "Nat, wouldn't you rather be the one?"

She shook her head. "Nick, that's a loaded question. If it had to happen, yes, but I'd rather avoid it altogether."

"But we can't, can we?" he said, his expression grave, until a slight teasing smile broke his demeanor. "Besides, if someone is going to enslave me, you'd be my first choice."

She laughed in spite of herself. But under his veil of humor, lay a valid point. She would never seek to control Nick as LaCroix had, and he knew it. In bringing him over herself, she would guarantee his freedom.

"Another thing you haven't considered," he pointed out, clearly seeing he was making headway with her. "If the cure truly requires the consent of the sire--and you were to bring me over--then you'd have the power to make me mortal again if I ever wanted you to."

She searched his eyes for the truth, as she asked, "Would you really tell me, Nick? I mean, if we never found another cure, and you wanted to become mortal again, even if I couldn't--"

"I would stay with you until we could both become human," he answered honestly.

"Nick--"

"Nat, I won't lie to you. That's how I truly feel, what I want to do." He brushed her cheek with his fingers. "But if it makes you feel better, yes, if for some reason I ever decided I wanted to become mortal--I promise, I would tell you."

His words, and the heat of his touch, were arousing her. And she knew then that she could deny him nothing. She loved him too much, needed too much to be with him. And more than that, she feared her own desires. If she did not bring him over, she feared that someday, in her passion, she might hurt him. She couldn't endure the mere possibility of it.

Besides, Nick was right. LaCroix wanted him. And if LaCroix took control of him once more, this time, he would never let him go. She couldn't protect him on her own. Only together did they stand a chance.

He had drawn her face closer to his, and was kissing her delicately on the lips, the neck, as if he knew just how far he could go in making her feel good without taking the risk. Well, he probably did know. "What do you say, Nat?" he whispered in her ear. "Will you let me be with you?"

"Yes, yes," she murmured, seeking out his mouth.

She kissed him deeply, parting from him only when she could feel her eyes begin to glow. "Oh!" she moaned.

"It's all right," he said softly, as she lay back against his chest. "It won't be long now. As soon as we're safely away..."

Then they would be together. And once she began to make love to him, she knew she might never want to stop.

The blood arrived just on time, and Nick handed her a bottle before going to pack the rest in a cooler. She drank it down thirstily, her contact with Nick having brought her hunger to the brink. Sydney watched curiously, and she set the bottle down to lift him into her arms.

She wished she could take him! But they would be on the run, and it would be quite impossible. Nick had devised a plan to take him to Schanke's, saying he was going away for a few days. "Oh, Sydney," she fretted, as Nick came down the stairs with two boxes in his arms.

"I wish we could bring him," she moaned as Sydney jumped from her and ran to Nick, rubbing his nose against his leg.

"So do I," he replied, putting down the boxes, He ran a finger down Sydney's back, smiling as the feline arched his tail. "He and I have become great pals. But it'd be too hard, Nat. He needs a litter box, and we won't be settled anywhere for a while."

"I know." She motioned to the boxes. "Is that all you're taking?"

"Whatever I can fit in the back seat. After all, the trunk's going to be full," he teased.

"You're just getting back at me for all the times I was driving, and you were in the trunk."

He nodded. "True."

She bent down to look at the contents of the larger box--all the things she would expect: a photo album, some computer disks, Erica's porcelain doll, and St. Joan's wooden cross."

"I've got my sterling pill box in my pocket," he intimated. "Just in case you were wondering."

She smiled to see that he still carried the Valentine's Day gift she had given him over two years ago, then looked up at him, with eyes that betrayed a sadness. "I'm sorry you have to leave so much behind..."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm taking the best thing with me." He winked reassuringly, then handed her the smaller box. "I think these are yours."

Utterly astounded, she opened it to find some of the most precious things she had been forced to leave behind--photos, jewelry, the stuffed Teddy Bear from her childhood that always sat on her bed--things that would have been missed had she taken them when she'd left. "I can't believe you kept all this..." she said on the verge of tears.

"To feel like you were still here," he explained simply, then led her to the easel and the covered painting. "Like this."

And as he pulled away the cloth, Natalie stood open-mouthed as she looked at herself, as she had been a year and a half ago--her cheeks flushed with life, her eyes blue as the daytime sky she'd missed so.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, too touched to say more.

"It's you," he said with meaning, then kissed her on the cheek. He circled her with his arms. "Think we should take it?"

"Why not?" she replied. "Hey, every vampire should have a portrait of themselves when they were human--Barnabas Collins did."

At his questioning gaze, she said, "Never mind," and kissed him. If she'd ever doubted his love, at this moment, she couldn't.

A half hour later, Nick was pulling up in front of Schanke's house, to find his partner outside in Bermuda shorts watering his lawn. "Gee, Schank, you should wear those to work one day," Nick quipped.

Schanke raised up the hose as if to threaten him with it. "Very funny, partner. How'd you like it if I gave the inside of your Caddy a bath.?"

"I don't think Sydney would be too happy about that. He doesn't like water." He hopped out, handing over a box of supplies, and the carrying case which contained the unknowing feline.

Schanke peeked in suspiciously. "This guy's been declawed, hasn't he?"

Nick grinned. "No, but he only scratches when he's playing, and he rarely draws blood."

"Lovely. Oh well, Myra's the cat-lover. She'll be in charge of him." He peered into the back seat as he took the cat's case from Nick. "So, you look like you're going away for a while--"

"Just a few days," Nick replied nonchalantly.

"Methinks you've got some special plans-- a lady maybe?"

"Maybe," he said mysteriously.

"Hmmm. So things with Dina must be working out pretty well. I told you--"

"It's not Dina, Schank," he broke in quickly.

"Oh, someone else? Care to share the dirt with your partner?"

"Not particularly," he replied secretively.

Schanke gave him a mock look of hurt. "Well, whoever she is, she's turned you around 180 degrees. Just tell me one thing--do you think this is it?"

Nick nodded and smiled. "Yeah, Schank, this is it, all right. Absolutely."

Schanke gave his nod of approval. "Man, oh, man, it's about time." He slapped him on the back. "Have a good time, partner. And remember--don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Don't worry about me, okay? Just promise you'll take care of Nat's cat."

"Will do." He picked up the case, looking Sydney in the eyes. "Maybe ole Sydney will clue me in on what's been going on in your apartment the last couple of days--whatever it is, it must make a pretty interesting story!"

The dimly lit room had begun to turn pitch black as the sun fell below the horizon. LaCroix cursed silently his complete paralysis. Until the wooden bullets were removed, he could do nothing but lie and reflect on where his plan had gone awry.

He'd underestimated Nicholas. He'd expected him to seek them out, true, even wanted him to. He'd known that the discovery of Natalie's having been brought across would be devastating--but LaCroix had banked on Nicholas' joy at seeing her alive to outweigh all else. He did love her desperately, after all. LaCroix had known that, since the night Nicholas had so vehemently denied it, lying most convincingly to save her life. LaCroix had let him off the hook then, more interested in seeing just how things would progress. He wondered still if Nicholas would have actually brought her over--or killed her to keep LaCroix from doing as he pleased with her. How he had stalled, kissing her deeply, passionately, avoiding the temptation to take her! It was then that LaCroix had realized that Natalie would be an excellent tool to use against him. Why kill her, when she was worth so much more alive?

He'd truly expected Nicholas to reject his mortality then, his desire to be with Natalie too overpowering. And he knew that Natalie would never have the strength to do it, would refuse to do it. Then he would step in, and they both would be his...

What he'd never expected was for Nicholas to come prepared to destroy him. And it irked him to no end that he had not been prepared for every possibility...

A muffled sound of footsteps in the hallway...the doorknob being turned, broken...

"LaCroix!" Janette ran to him, kneeling at his side, her face filled with worry. "What did he do to you?"

LaCroix's eyes were amber with his sudden rage. "You knew he planned this?" he said in a low roar.

"You told me to tell him where to find you!" she reminded him, although there was fear in her eyes. "I knew he was angry, but I never imagined--"

"You imagine very little, Janette," he told her disdainfully as she loosened his shirt to examined his wounds.

"it is no wonder that Nicholas chose Natalie over you."

She looked at him sharply, but tried to conceal her hurt as she dislodged the first of the bullets. "So, where is your companion?" she asked, as if trying to change the subject.

"You mean to say that you still haven't figured it out?" he asked, incredulous, as he began to feel more movement with each wooden projectile she removed. "Natalie Lambert is my new companion."

Janette just looked at him, wide-eyed. "All this time--you let Nicolas think that she was dead? He was devastated!"

"No less devastated than when he learned that she'd been brought across," LaCroix said, not without a hint of amusement. "And now, they're gone?"

"Yes, I no longer feel her presence. They're long gone. LaCroix eyed her curiously. "Did Nicholas tell you where he was taking her, Janette?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Janette replied. "Do you really think Nick would trust me with something like that after all the times I've betrayed him to you?"

"You've always done it for his own good, when he didn't know what was best for him." He stood now, brushing off his clothes, as the wounds where the wooden bullets began to heal themselves. "You've always been his confidante. And I think you know where they were going."

Janette looked him in the eyes, knowing he was probing her mind, and for once she was glad that Nicolas had not made her privy to his plans. "LaCroix," she began boldly, "Why don't you just let them go?"

His eyes began to glow, and he brought his face dangerously close to hers as he said, "Because they belong to me--just as you do."

Janette's gaze was unwavering as she replied, "Perhaps I belong to you--and I do choose to--but Nicolas and Natalie belong to no one but each other. That is what they choose."

There was a faint smile on LaCroix's lips as he shook his head. "No, Janette. None of you choose. I choose for you. Never forget that."

He walked to the window, opening the blinds to examine the night sky. "Nicholas forgets, and Natalie is too head-strong to accept it. But I will remind them."

Nick had driven until nightfall, taking the 401 out of Toronto and towards Detroit. There, he'd abandoned his beloved green Caddy for a more inconspicuous black Lincoln. While the trunk wasn't quite as big, Natalie would be able to fit if push came to shove. But with the coming of dusk, she was only too relieved to take over the driver's seat while Nick dozed at her side.

They'd decided to head for Missouri. Nick knew of an associate of Aristotle's who worked out of St. Louis, and would be able to provide them with false IDs. Natalie wasn't exactly sure she felt far enough away from LaCroix, but if they hit St. Louis in the middle of the night, the day would provide them with time to rest safely. And they did need rest! Natalie had not slept comfortably in the trunk of the car, and as the signs for St. Louis danced before her she could think of little else besides the comfort of a soft bed. She smiled to herself. That vision did include Nick lying with her under the covers....

"What is it?" he asked suddenly, and she realized that he was awake and watching her.

"Oh, uh, nothing," she faltered, covering very badly. "I was just thinking about how nice it would be to crawl into a nice soft bed..."

"Sounds good to me," he replied, slipping a warm hand to rest on her leg. She looked over to see from his expression that he was indeed sharing her train of thought.

"How long to St. Louis?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

It was two hours before dawn when they checked into the Marriot Pavilion, the hotel which Nick told her was his favorite in St. Louis. As soon as they had arrived, she'd understood why. Right across the street, mere yards away, stood Busch Stadium. "Don't tell me that in the middle of running from LaCroix you want to go to a baseball game..."

He'd smiled at her sheepishly. "You never know--we could at least check it out, and see if there's a night game--"

Her playful slap had ended the conversation, although she knew that if they felt comfortable enough to stay for a couple of days she'd probably give in to him.

He'd used cash to check in, paying in advance for the next two days. He'd signed them in as Mr. and Mrs. Nicholas MacLeod. The reference to the immortal from Highlander had made her laugh, but his use of Mr. and Mrs. had brought a slight blush to her pale skin. "You don't mind, do you?" he'd asked, putting an arm around her in the elevator.

Her response had been a kiss that he'd prolonged until the elevator had reached their floor.

Now, inside the luxurious hotel room, as she watched him pull the curtains safely shut to shield her from the coming sunrise, she felt finally at ease. She sighed. "I really needed to relax."

"And I need to eat," he said reaching for the phone. Luckily, there was twenty-four hour room service, and she opened her eyes wide as he ordered enough for three people. When he'd gotten off the phone, he looked at her awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Nat. I know you can't--"

"It's okay. I've got my own," she replied. But as he reached to hand her one of the bottles of blood from the cooler, taking a moment to contemplate its contents, she realized why he'd ordered the food.

This would be his last meal.

She took the bottle from him, uncomfortable drinking it in front of him even though he would soon be doing it as well. He must have sensed her hesitation, for he said, "I'm going to take a shower before my food comes, okay?" And he nodded gratefully, waiting until she heard the water running before she indulged her thirst.

She drank down the bottle. Then another. The prospect that she and Nick would soon be together suddenly frightened her. She'd wanted him so badly for so long...What if her passion became too uncontrollable? What if in trying to bring him over, she could not stop herself from draining him? The thought terrified her. She started on a third bottle, determined to have her fill before she got close to him.

As he came from the bathroom, her desire for him obscured her fear. His hair still wet, he wore the black silk pajama bottoms she loved, his bare chest exposed. "I, ugh, left the top for you," he told her shyly.

She nodded her thanks. She'd brought very little with her, only the few clothes that she'd left at his house before she'd gone, which he'd neatly packed away and saved.

She could hear the knock at the door from room service before she stepped into the shower. And as she let the hot water warm her cold body, a new nervousness over took her. As close as she and Nick had become, intimacy such as they were about to share was still new ground for them. It seemed almost ludicrous that after all they had been through together she should feel modesty now--yet she did. She wanted desperately for things to be perfect between them...Yet in her current state she didn't even know if her body would function normally.,,

She toweled herself dry, using the portable dryer that the hotel provided to blow out her hair. She slipped on his pajama top, imagining the warmth of his naked skin against hers...and as she grew moist thinking of him, she smiled. Everything was working just fine.

He looked up at her as she came from the bathroom, and she could tell what he was thinking even before he said, "That looks a hell of a lot better on you than on me."

She smiled demurely as he came to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Did you satisfy your appetite?" she asked, lacing her fingers around his neck.

"Not completely," he whispered, as his mouth sought out hers.

He kissed her slowly at first, deeply, as if reveling in the wonder of it all. Natalie could hear his heartbeat quicken as his kisses became urgent with the awakening of a desire he'd been forced to repress for so long...And as his hands slid gently beneath the silk pajama top, they sent waves of heat through her cold flesh, his touch arousing her as no one's ever had...

And as she felt his hardness press against her through his pajama bottoms, begging to unite with her body, her own passion became unbearable...

And as her eyes began to burn, and her fangs grazed his lips, she pulled away in fear. "No..." she whispered.

But he would not let her out of his embrace. "It's okay, Nat..." he said, cradling her in his arms.

"I'm afraid...I don't want to hurt you...""

"You won't," he promised her. "I trust you."

She shook her head, her eyes filled with blood tears. "I don't trust myself," she breathed.

"You'll know when to stop. I'll tell you. And then all you need to do is give me your blood." He wiped away her tears, kissing her where they had stained her cheeks, then looking into her eyes. "And I'll be yours forever."

It frightened her, yet excited her at once. To be with him in such an intimate way...to create a bond that no one could ever destroy...And try as she might to shake the idea from her mind, it enticed her, aroused her...

"How...I don't know how to..." she whispered as he began kissing her again.

"Like this," he said huskily. And as he lifted her in his arms, she let him carry her to the bed...

He lay her down gently, bringing himself to lie beside her. Gingerly, he brushed his fingers across her cheek, down her neck, leaving a hot trail on her skin. Natalie closed her eyes, willing herself to delay the hunger as he brought his lips down to taste hers, as his fingers carefully unbuttoned the silk top that lay precariously between them. Nick hesitated a moment, and it excited her to look up and see him taking her in appreciatively as she lay fully exposed before him. Finally, his hands sought once more to discover her body; she gasped as his heat reached her breasts, his delicate caresses sending waves of desire through her. She wanted to hold onto that desire, so human, so mortal, so beautiful, so long-awaited. She cried out softly as his mouth followed the trail of his hands, and he tasted her flesh, teasing her with his tongue, making her tremble with the thrill of it. She ran her fingers through his hair as his lips moved tentatively downward, exploring in wonder the depths of her that had been unknown to him, seeking out the secret places that moved her...

The pleasure was unbearable. And as he brought his face to hers once more, she kissed him hungrily, before moving down his body, her turn to prepare him as he had her...

He was so ready for her. She teased him lightly through the silk pajamas, watching his hardness fight to break free. And as she released him, she held him lovingly, caressing him, tasting him, as he throbbed with desire for her. "Oh, God, Nat," he breathed. "Please..."

She moved back up to kiss him, crying out in delight as his fingers tested her, readied her. And she held onto him tightly as he lowered himself upon her, ending the years of longing as he gently drove himself deeply into her...

Why had they waited so long? Natalie felt she would cry with joy as he thrust himself into her, filling her with himself, with his love. She had never realized how incomplete she had been until the moment that he'd entered her, completing her, fulfilling her. Urgently, she pushed herself upwards, towards him, drawing him into her body, into her soul. And the desire that had ignited with his touch was raging within her now, as she clung to him, kissing his mouth, his neck...

And the hunger was there. Matching her human desire for him, intensifying her passion. And as each moment brought her closer to her climax, she knew that she could no longer control the thirst for his blood. Her fangs had extended, and as she kissed his neck, licking it, tasting it, she found her mouth opening involuntarily...

And as Nick's body gave one final thrust into hers, they exploded together in the pinnacle of passion. And her teeth sank into his neck, turning his cry into one of joyful pain...

And as he erupted inside of her, the sweet taste of his blood flowed into her mouth. The pulsating of her body quickened to a violently joyful vibration as her bloodlust enhanced the ecstasy of their union. Never had she known such joy, never...

And the rapture she felt was not just her own, but his, as his blood told her all--his love for her, his longing, his joy at their union, at having her back, alive...his desire to be with her, no matter what the cost...She drank hungrily from him, wanting to consume him...

Stop... A voice inside her head, no, through the blood, Nick's voice telling her she'd had enough. She shook herself from her stupor, pulling away from him.

He lay back on the pillows, his face pale and unmoving, and panic struck her. But as she reached down to kiss the wounds that she had made, she could feel a weak pulse. She sighed with relief, the quickly raised her wrist to her lips.

The pain was brief, and as the blood flowed from her, she held it over Nick's lips. "Drink, Nick," she commanded softly, letting the drops fell in his mouth.

She watched as he licked his lips, tasting the blood. She cradled his head in her arm, offering herself to him. And slowly, as he drank from her, grasping at her wrist and suckling like a baby from his mother's breast, she could feel his strength returning. Such joy to give him life! Such ecstasy to share this with him, a union of body and spirit...

A wave of dizziness overtook her. Still he drank from her. Reluctantly, she pulled herself away, knowing that otherwise he would drain her. She reached for the bottle that he had left by the bed, replenishing the blood she had lost...

And oh, how LaCroix had been right! How putrid was the cow's blood when compared to the sweetness of Nick's! And yet, she knew that it was not so with all human blood. When she had killed, the taste, physically invigorating as it had been, had repulsed her. But this...this was not murder, nor senseless violation.

Making love to Nick, and sharing their life essence, was a bliss beyond words.

She watched him now, sleeping peacefully, his skin the same pallor as it had been when she'd met him. And though a pang of guilt shot through her, for having taken his mortality from him, she took comfort in his promises:

That he would let her bring him back over, if he truly wanted it.

That he would be hers forever.

For hours they slept together, until Natalie felt him move restlessly about. "Nick, are you okay?" she whispered.

"Thirsty," he replied simply, in a voice parched.

She went to the tiny refrigerator where he had stored their blood supply, bringing him back a bottle, which he downed quickly. "More?" she asked.

He shook his head, lying back on the pillow.

"How do you feel?" she asked softly.

He reached to touch her cheek and smiled. "Better than I have in eight hundred years." He pulled her down on top of him, gazing into her eyes. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

She smiled coyly. "Why don't you tell me?"

"More than any woman I've ever known," he said tenderly, as he drew her face to his, for a sweet, lingering kiss. "Oh, Nat," he whispered as he nuzzled at her neck, "making love never felt so perfect, so right..."

"I know..." she whispered, resting her head against his chest, "Nick, no one has ever made me feel like that...like this... And then...when I tasted your blood..."

He took her hand in his, bringing her wrist to his mouth, kissing it. "No one's blood has ever been so precious to me."

"I love you so much..." she breathed as he sought her lips once more.

It seemed hours they lay there, holding each other, kissing, touching...bathing in the bliss of their union. The fear of the last two days, the horror of the last year and a half, seemed to dissipate into an irrelevant past as Natalie relished the touch of his skin against hers, the delicate kisses, the beautiful words of love. yet something remained to haunt her, the memory of a memory forgotten, the words of LaCroix, and the hint of sorrow in Nick's blood over something precious that had been lost. And she knew that if they were to break all the boundaries between his being and hers, she had to know. She hated to destroy their peace. yet they were closer than they had ever been, could ever be, and she knew that the time was right.

"Nick, I need to ask you something..." She turned on her side to face him, and his blue eyes met hers with a certain calm.

"Anything, my love."

She drew in a breath. "I need to know what it is you made me forget..."

His expression took on only a sadness as he replied, "You knew?"

"Not really," she said. "I suspected, ever since that Valentine's Day, that there was something, some memory, that had been taken from me..."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

She thought a moment. "Because I trusted you--I do trust you--and no matter how much I might disagree, I knew that you would only do something like that if you thought it was necessary to protect me." At his slow nod, she continued. "But when I was outside your building, before I...attacked Dina, I felt something that made me afraid, angry, jealous, as if I didn't think you had ever loved me. and then, when LaCroix said that yesterday..."

He reached to touch her cheek. "I do love you, Natalie. Please, never doubt that."

"I know," she said, resting her hand on his. "I could feel it in your blood, even if I didn't already know. But I felt like there was something you regretted, something that we lost..."

Her eyes pleaded him as she said, "Please, give it back to me, Nick..."

He nodded. "I don't want this to hurt you any more than it has," he said softly, as he gazed into her eyes. "You will remember everything, Natalie..."

And suddenly, as he reached into her mind, she could feel the lost hours assaulting her in a barrage of words, voices, images, sensations...Her apartment..."What are we gonna do about this? The way we feel..."...His tender kiss, his fingers running gently down her face, her neck...those beautiful words, as he'd confessed loving her more than any other woman in eight hundred years...wanting to be with her, love her, no matter what the cost...the hours spent talking, kissing, holding each other, pushing his self-control to the limit, discovering what was possible...

And LaCroix. His deception. His kind gentle words that belied his malevolence. His caresses, his hot breath on her neck as he'd prepared to take her...

The crash through the window...Nick attacking him...and she helplessly entranced, drugged, unable to scream...

The words, the hurtful words. Not love, survival...humoring her...I do not love this woman...the dare to prove it...Nick pulling her up roughly, his fangs grazing her neck, pawing her, licking her, preparing to take her himself...

And his lips crushing against hers, his tongue reaching into her mouth, a moment of tenderness concealed in the deception of indifferent hunger. Kissing her good-bye? Will he kill me rather than let LaCroix have me?

LaCroix's voice, allowing him to stop. Nick's body heaving with relief, an audible sigh, then taking her in his arms, hugging her to him..."It's okay..." he whispers, although he will not let her remember...

The cab ride home...she dazed, he near tears with relief...looking into her eyes with sadness more profound than she has ever seen, commanding softly, "Forget..."

Natalie's eyes filled with tears now as she looked at him, a mixture of anger and hurt. "Why? Why did you take that from me?"

"To protect you," he said simply, her pain tearing him apart. He looked down. "I guess I was also afraid...afraid for you to remember what I had done to you, the things I had said..."

She shook her head in wonderment. "Didn't you trust me to know that you were lying? Doing what you had to do to save me?"

"The things I said were so...ugly...cruel--"

"I know," she said, remembering. And it hurt to do so.

"I was desperate, Nat. And when he said he would do what he pleased with you if I refused...I just panicked. I had to convince him, keep him away form you. And I kept kissing you, as though I were trying to tell you that it was a lie, that I didn't mean it...stalling...I didn't even know what I would do if he didn't believe me..."

She wanted to ask what he would have done if LaCroix had not left them alone. But she knew something's were better left unsaid. And she realized as she looked into his tortured expression that he probably did not know himself.

"Forgive me, Nat," he begged her. "Please."

"I won't say it doesn't hurt remembering what you said, and did, although I know--I swear I know--that you were lying to save my life. But Nick, what about the rest? All the things that had happened between us, all the beautiful things that passed between us..."

"Nat, I know, I had no right to make that decision for you--to take away everything we had shared. But I loved you too much--I love you too much now--to let him touch you. I thought it would be safer if we went back to how we were. And it was so painful for me, knowing what had happened between us, and that we could never continue it...I wanted to spare you that pain."

"Instead, I had the pain of never knowing how you felt about me," she said bitterly, crying freely now. "Loving you, and never knowing that you loved me...how could you take that from me?"

"The same way you could try to make me forget that I'd ever seen you alive," he said quietly.

And she knew he was right. She'd tried to protect him in just the same way. Depriving him of knowing that she was alive, letting him think that he'd lost her forever. Her face softened as she said, "I suppose we're both guilty then."

"Just of loving each other," he responded. And she nodded, smiling through the tears that he began to kiss away. She did love him so...and now that she knew the truth, there was nothing left to stand between them...He had done everything to protect her...as she had him. And now that they were finally together, there were no secrets, no hidden dangers, only those they could face hand in hand. She kissed him hungrily, and as he realized that all was well between them, he wrapped her tightly in his arms, holding her as if he would never let her go were an eternity to pass.

And it just well might.

Their passion was building, and with it the hunger that was unlike anything either of them had ever known. And as he rolled on top of her, ready to take her once more, to love her again and again, she whispered with a smile, "So, I guess this means you're mine forever..."

His eyes shone with his intense love for her. "I always was, Natalie. I always was."