Waltz in the Sky
By Lorelei Sieja
Copyright 1999



Tracy stirred as hunger forced sleep away.  She yawned and stretched, feeling the now familiar pressure as her fangs erupted.  Cautiously she moved her tongue around them, testing their sharp points.  They had had a good workout last night, she thought, as she opened her eyes and admired the sleeping vampires beside her.

LaCroix slept in the middle; his tall form stretched out on the fur rug in front of the fireplace where dying embers barely put out any heat at all. Tracy lay on his right side, curled up on his shoulder, while Nicholas slept on his left.  Nick's face was pressed against LaCroix's left breast, his expression relaxed and sweet in sleep.  She smiled at her men.  They both looked so boyish in slumber, even her two thousand-year-old, overly strict Roman General foster father. 

She wondered if work would ever be the same.  Nick had always been a little protective of her, whether because she was younger, or female, or the commissioner's daughter, she didn't know.  But now she was also his little sister.  Would he be worse?  Was that even possible?  And besides, now she was a vampire, and not as fragile as a professionally trained homicide cop.  Now she was practically indestructible!  

For three days they had remained in this apartment together.  Three whole days of music and dancing and vampire sex.  LaCroix had done very little teaching.  He had only encouraged her, praised her, and almost envied her, as she grew closer to Nick through the blood kiss.  She had felt cherished as they both made love to her in mortal and vampire fashion.  But the love LaCroix had for Nick was far stronger, more possessive, a love born of centuries....  She knew he cared for her, but she was painfully aware of her place in the family.  She was the youngest, the second daughter, loved by both Nick and LaCroix; she had yet to meet her new sister Janette.  But late this morning, when she lay exhausted, sated, and they must have thought she was asleep, she had heard them together.  Their relationship was complex and confusing, but she knew they loved each other deeply.

Tracy was losing her mortal perspectives one by one.  She had learned that LaCroix, as master, had complete dominion over her.  He could beat her or take her and still be within the laws of her new community.  He was her teacher, her protector, her lover, her father.  She felt honored to have him for a master.  He was ancient and powerful.  And he had granted her the privilege of calling him "dad", something not even his precious Nicholas was permitted to do.  

Still, thinking of her new "dad" and "brother" also as lovers was strange.  She looked at Nick again.  He looked so young and angelic in sleep.  It was impossible to think of him as 800 years old.  He had such a penchant for trouble!  Like some overgrown Denis the Menace, he was always getting shot at, attacked, kidnapped, imprisoned... he'd been hit by cars, gangsters, insane vampires, and even a mortal coroner.  Being his partner might actually put her in more danger than working alone.  Her gaze shifted to her new master and caught the slight upcurve of his lips in sleep.  With one arm wrapped possessively around his son, he slept on.  They were her boys now.  They needed her and they didn't even know it.  She was going to be there for them.

But she was starving!  Slipping from LaCroix's embrace, she moved to the refrigerator and poured herself a mug of her new food.  She warmed it in the small microwave as Urs had shown her, and marveled at the immaculate kitchen.  It mustn't get much use.  LaCroix being what he was certainly didn't entertain mortals very often.  

She punched the door of the mic to open at the first beep, but already her boys were stirring from their slumber.  She watched, curious how they would be today.  LaCroix's arm tightened around Nick, and even in sleep he placed a kiss on the top of Nick's wild golden hair.  A seductive smile spread on Nick's full lips as he curled deeper into the protective embrace of his master.  LaCroix's fangs erupted, curving sensuously over his lower lip.  One hand moved to stroked the golden hair.  Still, their eyes remained closed, and they barely breathed.  She could sense their thoughts- wild, erotic desires, and wondered if they were dreaming....

Tracy felt a warmth spread inside and her fangs itched in a way that the blood would not sooth.  She drained her mug quickly. She wanted them to wake up now!  She poured two mugs, warmed them, and brought them to her boys.  Only then did she see their eyes open and the teasing smiles broaden.  

"We were wondering how long it would take you to serve us," Nick quipped, leaning up on an elbow to accept the mug.

"Indeed," LaCroix responded.  "I was beginning to wonder if we would have to continue without you."

Tracy laughed as she realized that their morning seduction had been a ruse.  "You two!"  Then, in answer to their prank, she took them both, passionately. 

In silent awe they drew apart.  Tracy smiled shyly up at LaCroix.  Nick just smiled.  

"My children.  I think it is time for a bath," LaCroix suggested tenderly.  



Shortly they gathered around the kitchen table.  Tracy refilled their glasses, wondering with amusement if this was going to be solely her task now.  When she joined them again, LaCroix smiled at her.  

"You will test your wings tonight, my daughter.  I will permit you to return to work with Nicholas, under certain conditions."

She sipped, letting the mortal blood nourish her.  It was fantastic, like hot pizza or juicy stake and fine champagne and smooth chocolates all in one.  It was the best food she had ever tasted, yet even so, it was nothing compared to drinking from her master.  

"What conditions," Nick asked, when she remained silent.

"Just what common sense would dictate," LaCroix began.  "If she shows any signs of weariness, bring her home.  Tracy, you will spend five days a week here, and I will continue your training before and after sleep.  You may have two days off, which you will spend in the company of either Nicholas or Vachon.  You are strictly forbidden to be alone until I say otherwise."

He paused, allowing the firm tone of his voice and chilling glare of golden eyes to tell her just how important this rule was.  She looked surprised, but not indignant.  This was good.  

"You are too young, my dear," he continued, graciously explaining his command.  "Infant vampires are never left alone.  Nicholas was not out of my sight once for a full year.  Even after that I was never far away.  You do not know your own strength.  You are a danger to the mortals you associate with, and you are in danger from all other vampires.  Do you understand?  This rule is imperative that you obey."

Tracy shrugged her shoulders and nodded at him, recalling just how thoroughly he enforced his rules.  As a mortal child, her biological father had never spanked her, no matter how much she had deserved it.  He would sigh, and tell her how disappointed he was with her, and threaten her, but in the end, he never did a thing.  Being a parent required more effort that he was willing to expend.  She had grown up feeling like a burden, but never feeling loved.  LaCroix, however, had already punished her rather soundly once, before soothing away her pain with his blood.

"Anything else?" she asked, hoping the rules wouldn't be so numerous and confusing that she would have trouble remembering them.

LaCroix grew distant as past memories stirred.  What else must he tell this child before letting her venture forth?   He felt uneasy with letting her return to the mortal world so soon.  Turning towards Nicholas with a piercing gaze, he spoke again in firm, chilling tones.  "I am entrusting you with her care.  Do not disappoint me."

Nick sat up straighter, his chin lifted just ever so slightly- whether in defiance or indignation, Tracy wasn't sure.  "I can handle it," he promised.  Then, it was time to go.




Tracy felt very strange as she kissed LaCroix lightly before going out.  Except for that one night when she had defied him and slipped out the bathroom window for some fun, which had nearly ended her new existence, Tracy had been inside LaCroix's apartment for over two weeks.  Now the night seemed so much more alive!  

The noises were constant.  She could hear dozens of different conversations, all the traffic sounds for a radius of about six blocks, even the squeak and patter of rats, which she would rather have not detected.  

"Just relax," Nick whispered into her ear.  "Block out the extra stimuli by concentrating only on the immediate."

Tracy closed her eyes, following the gentle suggestion.  The rats were gone, as were many of the street noises.  

"Better?"

She smiled and nodded.  "Thanks."  Her partner grinned boyishly, and escorted her to his waiting caddy.  He even opened the door for her.
Tracy slid in, but as he joined her on the front seat she chided him lightly.  "You'd better quit treating me like that."
He looked startled.  "Like what?"

"Like I'm going to break!  If you open any more car doors for me, the whole precinct is going to know we've been "doing it".  I'd just as soon keep that new twist in our partnership private, if you don't mind."

He grinned.  "Got it."

Nick started telling her about his two shifts he made with Detective Roberts, and the kids he'd met- Logan, Pony, Digger, Rock.  He kept up the light conversation all the way to the precinct.  Tracy tried to concentrate, but her stomach was all fluttery.  She had made some major changes in her life, and she couldn't tell anybody!  But surely they would suspect.  Didn't she look different?  Although her complexion was normally very fair, she was deathly white now.  She'd tried putting on a little blush to cover that fact, but she thought she still looked peeked.  Well, she was supposedly out sick for a week with the flu.  If she still looked under the weather, perhaps it would make her story more believable.

The caddy stopped and Nick switched off the engine.  Tracy's heart beat twice in quick succession.  

"Relax, kid," Nick teased her.  "You'll do fine."

"Why are we here?" she asked, recognizing the city coroner's building. 

"Nat's orders," Nick sighed.  "She says I can't show up at work completely healed."

Tracy laughed.  "So she's going to put make-up on you, Nick!  Aren't you lucky it's not raining!"

Nick groaned.  "Just shut-up and come with me, Button."


Nat pulled her desk chair out and pushed Nick into it.  "Which cheek was sliced?" she asked.  

Nick shrugged.  He had a near perfect memory, but trivia like that didn't seem important.  

"You are impossible, you know that?  I don't know how you ever managed before without me to help you cover up."  She continued to scold him lightly, her tone growing more teasing, as she stained two Band-Aids with iodine and taped them over one cheek, then shaded one eye to look black and blue.  Tracy teased him about the make-up, too, and told him what a great new look it was.  

"That's it, that's enough," Nick said, jumping to his feet.  "Nat, I'll see you later."


The lights of the precinct seemed too bright.  Tracy squinted, and suddenly the sunglasses she'd often seen Nick wear made more sense.  And the scents overwhelmed her.  Officer Schultz passed them, the young dispatcher.  

"She smells like chocolate," Tracy whispered sotto voce.

Nick grinned.  "I know.  And Reese smells like banana crème pie."

Tracy giggled.  "No!  Really?" she whispered, so that only a vampire could hear.  "Somehow I just can't picture him as a crème pie.  How do you manage to look at him seriously, when he smells like a crème pie?"

Both of them burst out laughing just as they entered the bullpen.  Every eye there looked up to stare at them.  They'd both had a week of vacation, followed by taking the same sick days.  Although Reese had sent Nick home, thinking he'd been beaten pretty severely by Bunati, the rumors that ran the police force were laying bets that they'd shared a sick bed together.  Now, as Nick returned, obviously sharing a private joke with his junior partner, the rumor mills had enough grist to keep going indefinitely.  

They leaned in to Reese's office first to say hello.  The captain gestured them inside.  Tracy took a seat, giggling again as the scent of the captain's blood assailed her.  "Banana crème, all right," she whispered to Nick.  Nick laughed aloud, before he was able to stop himself.  He scowled at Tracy, but they both grinned.  When Reese cleared his throat, Nick put on a straight face and concentrated more on his captain.  

"Glad to see you're both back and feeling better," Reese said, an odd inflection in his voice.

"Thanks, Captain," Nick said sincerely.  "You're looking better yourself."

"Tracy," Reese began, "That was some flu you had. Are you sure you're ready to return to work now?"

"Ah, yes, Captain.  I still tire easily, but I'm sure I'm ready." 
 
"Mind telling me where you've been?  I've called your apartment repeatedly, and only got your machine.  Your dad's been worried about you."

Tracy was momentarily confused, until she realized that Reese meant her birth father.  Strange, she no longer thought of him as "dad".  "Um, I wasn't home, captain.  I was really sick, and I went to a friend's house, where I had some help."

"And you couldn't call your father or check your answering machine for a whole week?  Tracy, that doesn't sound like you."

She shrugged.  What could she say?  Of course it didn't sound like her, because she wasn't herself these days.

"Perhaps you should give us this friend's number.  The next time you decide to run off we'll know how to get a hold of you if we need to."
Nick gave him the number without even thinking.  Reese wrote it down, then scowled.  Looking at an open file on his desk, he pried his detectives a little more with a worried tone in his voice.  "That's your father's number, Nick."  

Nick blanched, as he realized his mistake.  He didn't know how to answer now.

"Yes," Tracy said.  She could see the suspicion on Reese's face, and knew he would have heard the rumors concerning her and Nick.  "It's not what you're thinking.  I really was in need of care.  LaCroix's been very caring and supportive.  He's been more like a father to me than my own."

Reese looked at his two favorite detectives.  He'd been a cop long enough that he knew a snow job when he saw one.  They were snowballing a big one.  The question is, why?  What were they trying to cover?  He had met Nick's new girlfriend, Urs.  He wouldn't need to play around with his partner, when a dish like that was waiting for him at the end of his shift!  He didn't think that was it.  But something was definitely different between these two.  They seemed much closer.

"Tracy, be careful," he warned.  "I've met LaCroix, and my gut instinct tells me he's a dangerous man.  Nick, have you been honest with her about your relationship with him?"  He glared at Nick.  His foster father had admitted to abusing him, to even drawing blood in his fury.  Reese wasn't sure what he could do for Nick.  He wasn't really a child anymore, so why did he still suffer at the hands of an abusive parent?  

Nick shifted uncomfortably in his chair and considered whether he should wipe the last ten minutes of Reese's memory away, but eventually, if he learned that Tracy was staying at LaCroix's apartment, he might regain these memories and also the knowledge that Nick had taken them in the first place.  No, maybe it was better that Reese knew.  

"Captain, I am fine.  Tracy is fine.  We are not a couple, and we would really like to get back to work."

Reese looked him in the eye, then gave Tracy the same deep inspection.  They were telling the truth, what little they told.  He nodded. 

 "Welcome back," he said.  




Waltz in the Sky, 02/14

It continued to be Tracy's favorite game to identify each person in the precinct by the scent of his blood.  Each attempt made her giggle.  Nick was enjoying the private game as well, although all that talk of blood was making him hungry, even though he'd fed well before arriving.

"Tracy, give it up," he begged, flashing her a toothy grin before once again concealing the vampire.

Tracy clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle another giggle.  She could hear the muffled suspicious conversations, and knew the bets were placed concerning her and Nick.  "I think maybe Vachon and Urs should both come to meet us after work," she whispered.

"I agree," Nick answered, "but not tonight.  You won't be able to stay the whole shift, I'm sure."

A while later a call came in.  A body had washed up on the beach.  Nick reminded Tracy to grab her coat and together they left, almost eager to get away from their desks.  Nick glanced at Tracy with concern.  She'd always had a difficult time with the sights and smells of death before, and now her senses were greatly enhanced.  

"Perhaps you should drink something," he cautioned her, as he turned the radio down low.  Now that Tracy's hearing was as sharp as his, the volume would never be painfully loud again, he thought, relieved.

"Nick, I'm fine.  Really."  She sounded irritated.  

"Tracy," he said again, and waited for her sigh to subside.  "Then open it and pass it to me.  All that talk about how delicious everyone smells has really whet my appetite."

She reached under the front seat for the private label LaCroix had sent with her tonight.  She let her fangs drop so she could pull out the cork.  At once the heady aroma stirred her with an acute sensation, almost like pain, and her stomach rumbled.  She put the bottle to her lips and chugged half its contents instantly.  Then she passed it to her partner with a sheepish grin.  

"Umm.  Maybe I was just a little hungry," she stammered.

Nick smiled.  "It's okay, Tracy.  But don't ever go to a scene hungry.  Understand?"

She nodded.  She'd been so sheltered ever since the big change that she really didn't know how she would react.  It was a little scary and exhilarating all at once.  She stuffed her worries away by concentrating only on Nick.  

He drank all that was left in the bottle.  Although it wouldn't spoil, as each bottle of mortal blood was processed with a few drops of vampire to preserve it, it would lose all its mortal essence, the very thing that made it so sensual.  It was about like warm beer or flat champagne-- not really worth consuming.  

Nick's gaze was on the road tonight, not some distant century.  He looked contented.  Until a few weeks ago, she'd never really been attracted to him.  He'd been so stuffily righteous all the time, like a boring do-gooder.  She had compared what she thought she knew about her "mortal" partner with her irresponsible vampire boyfriend, and Nick had not fared well.  It had been nothing short of earth-shattering to learn that Nick was also a vampire.  Then she saw beneath the tightly controlled exterior that he built to insulate him in the mortal company he kept, to discover the real Nick Knight, 800 year old Crusader.  Now every time she looked at him she wanted him.  

It embarrassed her.  Two weeks ago she had still been a virgin.  Now enjoying any one of the three vampire men in her life was all she seemed to think about.  They were each fantastic and unique.

Vachon was tender.  He was youthful, irrepressible, sensual.  He was sonnets and serenades, violins and romance.  His gentle hands were expressive, and they played over her body with the skill of an accomplished musician.  

LaCroix was power.  He was hurricanes and tidal waves.  She felt overwhelmed in his presence, and their lovemaking was incredible.  With him she felt cherished and protected.

Then there was Nick.  He was such a contradiction, but of the three, he was the most passionate.  He was moody; he could go from anger to desire in moments, and leave her swirling dizzily in his wake.  He was Romeo and D'Artagnon and Zorro all rolled in one, with just a bit of Dracula for spice.  

"Tracy, stop that," Nick said hoarsely.

She snapped out of her reverie and nervously wondered if he'd guessed what she was thinking.  She felt too warm and moist all over.  She tried to cover her discomfort with an innocent grin.  "Stop what?"
Nick turned to her, his eyes were red and his fangs fully pointed.  "You," he said.  "Are drooling, and there is no blood left in the bottle."

Suddenly her fangs descended as well.  She wanted him now, immediately, and slid closer to him on the seat.

Nick cranked the steering wheel to park in an alley.  He killed the lights and the engine, just as Tracy threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close.  There was no time for finesse now.  Fangs sank into naked throats and they drank.  Desire built and further aroused each other through the blood kiss.  Fast they climbed the road to completion, and their pleasure was no less sweet for the shortness of the trip. Tracy was quivering in his embrace until the moment had passed.  

"Thanks, Nick," she whispered in his ear, attempting to dispel her embarrassment at losing control on the job.

"That's what brothers are for," he answered lightly.  "Now, perhaps we should show up at the crime scene, Button?"

Tracy punched his arm as she straightened and returned to her side of the seat.  "I really hate that nickname.  Can't you think of something better to call me?"

"Nope."


"Follow the yellow-tape-road," Tracy quipped as they neared the lake.  That, plus the flashing lights of the police cars and the coroner's van, were sure indicators of where they needed to be.  

"Tracy," Nick began.  She could hear the warning in his voice, and she wasn't sure if it pleased or annoyed her.  He was so damned overprotective.

"It will be different now.  Drowning victims are among the easiest for us to face.  They don't smell good, so they are less likely to stir your hunger.  But, you see, smell, and sense everything much clearer than before.  If anything happens, I want you to get back in the caddy and lock the doors.  I'll come and take you home as quickly as I can."

"Yes, mother," she sighed.

Nick glared at her, but then he shrugged and let it pass.  

They both spotted Natalie at the same time and set off to join her.  There weren't many people gathered around; it was a bit cold for the usual passers-by to be down there.  A wintry wind blew in off the lake, chilling the mortals and driving many away.  Natalie glanced up at them as they came near, but her look was guarded and unfriendly.

"Okay, people, carry him away," she said to her assistants.  

"Shouldn't we look at him first," Tracy asked.

Natalie's eyes narrowed at Tracy, and she distinctly felt the woman's disapproval.  Still, Natalie moved aside to let Tracy see.

It had been a man.  Now cold in death, he looked faintly disgusting, yet even in the dark Tracy could tell that his hair was blonde.  He was a big man, over six feet, broad and solidly built, like a linebacker.  There was only one small injury, a slashed wound in the side of the neck at the jugular.  Tracy shrugged and looked at her partner.

Nick glanced from the body to Natalie and gave her a wide-eyed look of innocence.  Natalie brushed the dirt from her coat and walked away from the body, while her assistants bagged him to deliver him to the county morgue.  Nick walked with her.

"What is it, Nat?" he asked.

She glared at him.  "Don't you know?  Doesn't Tracy?"

He shook his head.  "Know what?"

"It's a vampire kill," she said, dropping her voice too softly for mortal hearing.  "I thought maybe it was Tracy's, that LaCroix had been teaching her to hunt."

Tracy giggled.  Nick shot her a warning look, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.  Teaching her to hunt would be a good step in giving her independence, something she was certain the ancient had no intention of teaching her for a few centuries.   

"No, Natalie," Nick said.  "Tracy hasn't learned to hunt, and if she does, you will never find the body.  LaCroix is much too discrete for that."

"So, what do you want me to do, Nick?"

He hated to ask her to lie, knowing how much it offended her, but it was the only option and she knew it.  If she revealed it as a vampire's kill, she and everyone she told would disappear, courtesy of the Enforcers.  He put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I will find the careless culprit, Nat, and see that it doesn't happen again," he promised.  

She patted his hand where it rested on her.  "Thanks, Nick.  I know you will.  I'm sorry for being crabby.  It's just been a while since I've seen you, and I guess I'm feeling ignored."

"I'm sorry," he whispered.  

His voice had become all soft and soothing, tender and inviting.  Did he know how much that drove her crazy?  She stepped back from him before she could lose control and fling herself into his arms. 
 
"I'm almost done babysitting," Nick said, with a glance at his partner.  "Do you want to come by tonight and watch a video?  Or just talk?"

"What about Urs," Nat asked, hoping she didn't sound as jealous as she felt.

"What about Urs," Nick replied.  "She's not there now.  I don't think she's coming back until tomorrow."

Nat hesitated.  They had to move beyond this.  Nick was her best friend.  It wasn't anyone's fault that they could never be anything more.  She hadn't succeeded in curing him, in making him mortal, and she wasn't ready to become a vampire.  "I'd like that," she said finally.  "It's my turn to chose the movie."

Nick laughed.  "Okay.  Just no more giant apes or giant lizards."

"Deal."



Tracy was waiting for him inside the caddy.  Nick turned the key to unlock his door and slid behind the wheel.  She leaned against her door, her eyes closed, her blood slow and soothing as she was nearly asleep.  

"Hi, Button," he said.  "Time to go home."

"Hm.  'Kay."

He drove thoughtfully through the dimly lit streets of Toronto, his master's voice spilling out of the radio in his usual esoteric nonsense.  He didn't know what LaCroix was talking about tonight; the content of his message was couched in mystery.  Nick didn't even try to figure him out but just enjoyed the familiar velvety voice.  Father, sister, lover, family.  For now, he felt like he had it all.  Nick was happy.  It was a wonderful feeling.

At the Raven he lifted Tracy, who was sound asleep by now, and flew into the apartment through the skylight.  LaCroix opened her bedroom door and pulled down the quilt while Nick laid her on the bed.  Together, they tucked her in and left the room in silence.
LaCroix poured himself a drink and offered one to Nick. 

"No, thanks," he said.  "I can't stay.  But, we found a vampire kill tonight.  The body washed up on the beach, and it was pretty sloppy.  Nat thought it was Tracy's."

LaCroix snorted contemptuously.  

"I assured her that it couldn't be," Nick said quickly.  "But, I just wondered if you knew of any new vampires in town."

"I assure you, Nicholas, that I associate with neither the stupid nor the ignorant."

"I know.  I'm sorry.  But if you hear anything, will you let me know?"
LaCroix nodded almost imperceptibly.  Nick was strangely reluctant to leave.  If he didn't go immediately, he knew he would not go at all.  Besides, Natalie would be really ticked if she waited for him at the loft while he stayed to play with his master.  Abruptly he turned and left.  


 


Tracy awoke, somewhat disoriented, and emerged from her bedroom.  She was home again.  Home.  In such a short time it felt more like home than the place she had spent her childhood, or even more than her own apartment, which was really just a bed and breakfast.  She sensed the presence of the ancient vampire and went to him.

It was still dark outside.  She glanced at her watch and felt a twinge of guilt.  Nick would still be at work doing their shift alone.

"You require more sleep," LaCroix stated, sensing her guilt.  "Nicholas knows that.  So tell me, how did your first night among mortals go?"

Tracy described for him her game and how she would always think of banana crème pie now whenever she saw her captain.  She told how Nick's uncharacteristic laughter was spicing up the bullpen rumors.  LaCroix seemed to enjoy her story.  She knew Nick wasn't much for sharing and sensed LaCroix sometimes felt a little left out of the loop.  So she strung the story along adding details and found LaCroix to be an attentive listener.

"You've done well, my daughter," he said.  "Now, we will have a lesson, and then you may return to bed."






Nick went down in to the Raven before returning to the precinct.  If there were a new vampire in Toronto, eventually he or she would find the way here.  He didn't want to alert the general populace and perhaps spook away the culprit before he had a chance to educate him.  Patrick and Vachon were probably the only two he could trust.  He made his way to the bar.

"Ev'ning, Boss Jr.," Patrick said with a friendly grin.  "Can I get you something?"

Nick was all set to refuse as customary, but suddenly he wanted it. He wanted more, and it had to be human.  He nodded at the young bartender, afraid to voice the words aloud as his control had disappeared all together.  

Patrick said nothing if he noticed.  He took a wineglass from below the shelf and filled it with LaCroix's favorite blend, then set it before him.  Nick took the glass greedily and drank half the contents before he felt he could speak again.  Maybe it was Tracy's fault?  Maybe, through sharing her blood, he was re-experiencing vampirism threw her newborn eyes?  

"Anyone new in town?" Nick asked.

Patrick shrugged.  "Looking for someone?"

Nick took another sip, pleased that his control was returning.  It was an excellent blend, pure and uncut with wine, which would have been difficult to explain while on duty.  "Someone was careless.  The police found a body; the neck wounds were poorly concealed, and the body is too fresh."

Patrick shuddered.  Such blatant carelessness was unforgivable among his kind.  He was grateful that his position here as bartender meant he never had to get that hungry. "Can't say I've met anyone new, who's both young and foolish.  There are two new vampires that just came by last night, though.  Mind if I talk to them, before I tell you their names?"

Nick thought for a moment.  If Patrick was hesitant to be forthcoming with him, then the new vampires were probably elders.  Older than Patrick, anyway, and possibly even older than Nick.  They weren't likely to be responsible for the kill.  Still, Nick didn't like being in the dark.  Then he nodded.  

"If they agree, you can meet them here tomorrow night," Patrick said. 
 
"That will be fine.  I'll be here a little after 1 AM, when I bring Tracy home."  Nick tossed down the remainder of his beverage then and left.  He would talk to Vachon later, if Patrick's lead didn't pan out.


Tracy's lesson was very short.  LaCroix smiled at her indulgently.  "Rest well, little one.  I shall see you later."  

She waved a weary hand in his direction and crawled back into bed without even stopping to undress.  She had thought they were both just being overprotective in not letting her go back to work before.  Now she wondered how she would ever make it to the end of the week.  Before she could worry another moment, she was quite literally dead to the world.  

Hours later, though, she awoke.  The sun was still high.  She knew that instinctively, even though no light slipped through the steel shutters.  Tracy listened, extending her new abilities.  LaCroix was sleeping and no one else was here.  She wondered idly what had happened to Vachon, but perhaps LaCroix had told him how tired she had been.  

Hunger drove her to the refrigerator and moments later she curled into the corner of LaCroix's couch to sip the soothing liquid.  She thought back on last night.  Making out with Nick in the caddy had been an unexpected pleasure.  Maybe being his partner now would have a few added bonuses?  

Captain Crème Pie came to mind then, and she covered her mouth lest her giggling wake LaCroix.  Then she remembered how Reese had scolded her, and told her that her other dad had been worried about her.  Picking up LaCroix's phone, she dialed her number and accessed the messages on the machine.  

There were a lot of them.  So many, that it had run out of tape.  Her dad had called six times, each message getting angrier and angrier.  He demanded that she contact him or he would put out an APB on her and have her hauled in to his office in handcuffs.  She sighed.  Dreading the confrontation, she placed the call. 

She recognized his secretary's voice answer on the other end.  "Um, hi, Deb.  This is Tracy."  

She had to pull the receiver away from her ear then, as Deb had always had a rather loud voice.  Now it was painful.  She rambled on excitedly, telling Tracy just how ticked the Commissioner was, and she'd put him on right away.  Tracy wished now she could just hang up.  She didn't really feel like talking to him, which really meant listening to him.  

Strange, but he didn't seem like her dad anymore.  

Then his voice filled the earpiece, several decibels louder than Deb had been.  He demanded to know where she'd been, and why she didn't call, and who was she with.

Tracy smiled.  He used to intimidate her, but now she knew that it was all just empty threats.  She made insolent faces and silently mocked him while he continued his tirade.  

"Tracy.  I want to see you today.  Either you come here, or I'll embarrass you by stopping at the precinct tonight!"

"Dad, no!  You can't do that," she gasped.

"Just watch me.  Now when can I expect you?"

"Um-" Tracy thought hard.  When could she go?  LaCroix and Nick would not let her out of their sight.  She didn't really want to see him, but maybe if she did, she could kind of reassure him and get him off her case.  Maybe, it would be like saying good-bye?  If Nick left her alone at all, she could slip out and be back, without him even knowing about it.  Or maybe, if she asked him, he would take her?  

"You know I work nights, dad.  I'll stop by the house around 10pm.  If I'm late, just wait there.  I'll be by."

He fumed a while longer.  Tracy interrupted him, yawning into the mouthpiece, and telling him she really had to get to bed.  Then she hung up the phone.  

"And what do you think you are doing, Tracy!" 

She jumped, startled by the chilling sound of LaCroix's voice.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to wake you.  I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."

Her vampire father stepped into the room and stood before her now, his arms folded across his chest and his expression firm.  "What were you doing," he repeated.

She thought fast.  Had she done anything he'd forbidden her?  No.  She was certain he'd not told her she couldn't use the phone.  "I checked my answering machine," she said quickly, looking up at the wall of fire before her.  "Then I called my dad, because he was worried about me."

"He is not your "dad" any longer," LaCroix stated.  

"Well, he thinks he is," she blurted, wishing again that she could learn to button her lip.  That was how she had got that stupid nickname in the first place.  Her high-school friends were always telling her to "button it".  "I can't just disappear.  He'll have half of Ontario out looking for me."

LaCroix pulled her to her feet and glared at her, his firm grip hurting her arms.  "I am your parent now.  You must break all your mortal ties.  You will not contact this man again."

Tracy trembled.  Her father could be rather impossible.  It would be difficult to break her ties with him instantly, but she didn't dare defy LaCroix while he was standing right in front of her.  She nodded weakly, afraid to open her mouth.

LaCroix released her then and buried his fury beneath a cool exterior.  "Let us both return to sleep, then," he said.  

Tracy wandered into her room and crawled back under the covers.  Maybe she was just a little tired.  How to handle her dad and LaCroix and working and adjusting to the changes in her life could all be settled later.







A Waltz in the Sky, 03/14
By Lorelei Sieja

Natalie's visit had been a lot of fun, Nick thought as he dressed for work.  Keeping to the theme she'd started several movies ago, she'd selected one about a giant baby stomping through the streets of Reno.  Or was it Las Vegas?  Nick had laughed so hard, and Natalie had laughed with him.  Unlike King Kong, this movie was intended to be funny.  He didn't remember her leaving though.  When he awoke, he discovered that he'd slept on the couch, and she had tossed a quilt over him.  He must have fallen asleep while the movie rewound.  He hoped she wasn't mad at him.  Babysitting Tracy was wearing him out.  Maybe he'd have to make sure he fed a lot better until she was older.  

Nick climbed the stairs to LaCroix's apartment wondering why Tracy couldn't manage to be ready when she'd said she would be.  Whatever.  He smiled at LaCroix.  The ancient seemed distracted.  "Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"No.  Nothing, Nicholas," LaCroix answered in a way that made Nick even more suspicious.  Well, maybe Tracy was still giving him headaches.  He turned to hide the grin at his master's expense.

Tracy emerged from her room muttering something under her breath.  "I can't wear pierced earrings anymore!  You never warned me about that.  I have tons of earrings.  What am I going to do with them now?"

LaCroix leaned over her, his breath whispered lightly over her neck raising the sensitive hair and bringing a shudder up her spine.  "It would be a shame to conceal such perfect ears behind cheap baubles, my dear."

Tracy wasn't amused.  She must have slept on the wrong side of her bed.  Nick tried to hide his smirk, but not before she'd seen it.

"And you!  You will stop babying me!  I am a detective, Knight.  I know how to do my job!"

Nick looked startled.  Had they had an argument last night?  Not that he could remember.  "I have no idea what she's talking about," he told their master.

"Nick is too damn bossy, LaCrox.  Tell him to knock it off!"

LaCroix filled three glasses and held out two to his children.  Nick shook his head but LaCroix insisted.  "We will have a chat before either of you may leave," he said firmly.

Tracy took hers and plopped on the couch.  Nick decided it was safer to take the chair than sit anywhere near her.  LaCroix remained standing as he regarded them both.  

"Tracy.  Tell me, about what exactly are you upset with Nicholas."  LaCroix's tone was firm but patient.  

Tracy gulped her beverage and tried to calm the strong emotions, unsure what they were really all about.  "I'm sorry I'm crabby tonight," she apologized.  "Last night went fine, mostly.  Only, Nick was always a little over-protective before.  Now it is definitely worse.  It's like he doesn't think I'm capable of doing my job."

LaCroix eyed his son.  Nicholas could be rather obstinate.  It was probably that overactive knight-crusader ethic of his again.  Then again, Tracy was stubborn and strong-willed.  He could not undermine Nicholas's authority and still expect him to protect her.  

"Tracy, in police matters, you may argue with Nicholas to your heart's content-"

"LaCroix!" Nick interrupted.

The master held up a hand to silence him.  "Would it not further arouse suspicions if she suddenly became compliant in all things, Nicholas?"

Nick nodded reluctantly.

"However," he said, turning to Tracy with a stern expression.  "In all matters pertaining to your existence as a vampire, you will obey Nicholas as you would me.  Is that clear?"

She started to object, but saw that as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over.  "Yes, sir," she replied.

"I suspect that she is not getting enough rest," LaCroix said as he held her coat for her.  "Return her earlier tonight."

Nick shrugged.  If Tracy stayed this crabby, she'd be home in an hour.




"So, partner," Tracy said, as they drove in to work together.  She was wondering how they were going to squelch the growing rumors regarding her and Nick if he continued to chauffeur her around.  "How do we go about handling last night's case?"

"We don't," he stated, accenting the first word.  

"Nick, I will not be kept in the dark!  This is a police matter!"

He held up his hand to cut her off.  "Tracy, I'm sure that LaCroix meant "mortal police matters".  You will not go anywhere near this one.  You know the killer's a vampire, and I can guarantee that he is older and more dangerous than you are.  LaCroix made me promise to take care of you, and that is one command I happen to agree with."

"Well, I don't.  What if he's stronger than you are?  What if you need me?  You know that is what partners are for."

"Tracy!"  Nick was getting angry, but she didn't fear him.  He was nothing like LaCroix.  "End of discussion!"

By then they had reached the precinct.  Tracy entered, slamming any doors that she could and slumped behind her desk, radiating her irritation.  Nick came in at a more dignified pace but also exuding anger.  Many in the bullpen concealed grins behind their hands, and wiggled their eyebrows knowingly at this "lover's spat" being enacted before them.

The two detectives worked almost silently, grunting one-word comments until Nick took a call from the coroner.

Tracy could hear their conversation now.  It was something to be thankful for, and one more way to tease her partner, for now anything Nat said to him would be "public" information.

This call was just business.  Nat had some information on the identity of last night's John Doe.  His name was Alvin Jacobs, an American from Louisiana.  The case just got a lot more difficult, since it crossed political borders.  

"I'll be there shortly," Nick said, before hanging up.

Tracy reached for her coat and brazenly followed Nick out the door.  She sensed his growing anger at her defiance, but she knew he wouldn't make a scene in front of the mortals.  Once out in the parking lot, though, he turned on her with glowing eyes and sharp fangs.  He was so beautiful when he did that, she thought.

"You are NOT coming," he ground out.  "You will stay here and wait for me to return."

"Are you going to make me!" she snapped belligerently, her hands on her hips.

Nick took a deep breath and some of the anger receded.  "I would hope that won't be necessary," he said.  He loomed over her, his fangs scraping along her sensitive neck.  "But I could leave you too tired to resist."

Tracy almost hoped that he would, as the now familiar feeling of warmth and moistness filled her core.  Still, if he were going to be gone, it would be a perfect time to slip out and see her birth father one last time.  She remained silent, no longer fighting him, but not agreeing to stay, either.

Nick took it for submission.  He nipped playfully at her throat, his voice becoming thick and husky.  "Wait at your desk.  I expect to be gone about an hour." 

 She hugged him impulsively, one hand slipping unnoticed into his pocket for the keys.

Then, leaving the caddy behind, Nick leaped into the night sky and was gone.  She grinned.  She had hoped he would do that.  She adjusted the seat in his car and drove away.  

It was a little earlier than she'd expected to be able to get away.  Maybe, if she were lucky, her dad wouldn't be home yet... but as she pulled into his driveway, she saw his car parked in the garage and some lights on in the house.

Nearing the front door, she was struck with playful curiosity.  Her dad had always been such a private person.  Conversations would end the moment she came in to a room, doors were always closed, and drawers were kept locked.  With her vampiric senses now she could unveil a little of the mystery.

Filtering out many of the sounds she could detect, she focused only on her father's voice.  It was deep, but a little nasal- not thrillingly powerful, like LaCroix's.  He had an odd habit of speech- not ignorant, exactly, but uncultured.  She'd never really noticed before.  He was talking with someone he called "Turk", and they were not happy.  She couldn't hear both sides of the call from outside.  Her mom had always kept a spare key under a fake rock in the rose bushes, for nights she couldn't remember where she had left her purse, or the car, or anything else she'd misplaced while under the influence.  Tracy nudged the rock aside now and found it was still there.  

Feeling some of the old excitement, like when she'd still been a rebellious teenager, she turned the key in the lock and silently slipped inside.  Her dad was in his office, down the hall and on the left.  Stealthily, she drew nearer and listened. 
 
The other voice was still hard to detect through the closed door, but it carried fine through the floor vents.  Her dad was irate, but this Turk sounded confident.  

"His body washed up on shore last night, you a**hole!  I paid you to get rid of him and I've never seen a sloppier job!  I don't know how you stay in business!"

Tracy covered her mouth to muffle a gasp.  No, it couldn't be!  Surely she hadn't heard right.  Her dad was a police commissioner!  Surely he had nothing to do with this murder!

She'd missed some of Turk's reply. 

"... it will all be swept under a rock, and filed with other unsolveds," Turk promised.

"My force is not that irresponsible," her dad yelled.  "It would have been far better to get rid of it right the first time.  Now take care of it, or you will have no further business with me.  You hear?"

She could have heard the phone slam down even without her special hearing.  Suddenly, she wished she'd been a good little girl and waited outside ringing the doorbell. It certainly sounded like her dad was involved in something clandestine.  And she didn't want to try to lie to him now, while she was shaking.  Using vampiric speed, she fled the hallway and returned to the front door.  She buried the key and straightened her jacket before ringing the doorbell.  Now she would have to see how good she was at acting. 

Her same old dad opened the door shortly.  He didn't look like he'd just chewed out a hit man.  

"Baby!  You're early," he said, stepping aside to let her in.  "This is great.  Can I get you something?  A soda, some chips perhaps?"

Tracy plastered a perky grin on her face even as the thought of greasy chips and flavored, colored, sugary burpy water made her stomach pitch and roll.  "No, thanks, dad.  I've eaten."  That much was true. 
 
She walked with him through the wide, familiar halls towards the den at the back, feeling strangely like an intruder.  This wasn't home anymore.  This was another lifetime.  Her dad helped himself to a beer and popped the top, guzzling the foamy brew that squirted forth.  

"Baby.  You look awful," he said tactlessly.

"I feel fine.  I just got over the flu, remember?"

Predictably, he'd found the subject of tonight's debate rather quickly.  "It's that night shift.  I expected you to pull graveyards as a rook, but you've really proven yourself.  It's time that captain realized it and promoted you to days."

"No, dad!"  She felt a moment of terror.  That would be disastrous.  "I love working nights!  And my partner is the greatest."

"Cocky, arrogant a**hole.  He's a good cop, but he sure ruffles my feathers.  Look at you.  You're pale as death.  Not my little sunshine girl anymore.  You need a week off on the beach.  Can I send you to Cancun for Christmas?"

It had been a mistake to come here.  She glared at him, experiencing all the old feelings of inadequacy.  He would boss her around, and push her around, until she did something really stupid.  Then he'd tell her how disappointed he was, and maybe her mom would seek solace in the bottle again, and Tracy would feel responsible.  Well, it was over.

"Dad.  I came because you commanded it.  But I am fine.  And I am staying on night shift, and I will remain Nick's partner.  If you do anything to change all that, then Toronto is no longer big enough for both of us!"

She grabbed her purse and marched to the door, eager to make her exit.  
Her dad followed after her, yelling obscenities.  How dare she speak to him like that!  He told her to stop, demanded she apologize.  Tracy blinked back blood tears and kept her back to him.  Slamming the door behind her was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, but she knew she would never come here again.

She sat in the caddy for long moments to still the trembling in her hands.  Then, with a sigh, she drove back to precinct to wait for her partner.  







Waltz in the Sky, 03b/14
By Lorelei Sieja

Nick felt a twinge of guilt at leaving Tracy alone.  LaCroix had made him promise to take care of her.  But, how much trouble could she get in if she was sitting behind a desk?   He also had a duty to find the guilty vampire quickly, and at the moment, the two obligations did not mix.  He tried to shrug off his concerns, and promised himself that he would just finish his tasks as soon as possible and return to her.
Natalie smiled at him as he entered the morgue. 

"So how's babysitting detail?" she asked. 

He shrugged, hoping he didn't look too worried.  "Fine.  What have you got?"

She pulled down the drape and let Nick examine the deceased's neck.  There were two unmistakable neck wounds, which were only partially concealed with a sloppy knife-cut through them.  The neck wounds were 3 and half centimeters apart- most likely a male vampire.  But the odd thing was that the man had been drugged before being killed.

"Are you sure," Nick asked her.  "That doesn't make sense.  Why would a vampire drug his prey?"

"To keep him quiet?" she suggested.

"That's why we hypnotize them," Nick said.

"Well, maybe he was a resistor?"

Something still seemed wrong.  Nick couldn't think what it was.  If the man had been a resistor, most vampires would just ignore him and find easier prey.  If the man had already discovered their identity, then he had to die, but why the drugs?  

Nick took the file she'd written for his private viewing only.  Not only was the vampire sloppy, but he'd let a lot of blood go to waste, too.  The victim was only partially drained.  Nick would have to return to his computer to research this man's background- see if he could learn why he was here, and who his friends had been.

"So how's Tracy doing," Nat prodded, strangely curious.

Nick shrugged again, still trying for indifferent.  He didn't want to describe to Nat how great Tracy was in bed, or in the caddy, or even in the middle of the floor.  "It's nice to have someone else for LaCroix to pick on," he said lightly.  "Nat, I have to go."

"Could you bring her by sometime?"

He looked surprised.  He usually came to the morgue alone, partly because when Tracy had been mortal, she'd always gagged around bodies, and because he enjoyed the light, unprofessional teasing with Nat.

 "Why?"

"I'd like to have a little "girl talk" is all.  And it might be interesting to compare her new vampire blood cells with yours, and the few others samples I've collected."

He nodded.  "Soon then.  But, you should clean up the place first."  He winked at her, and then was gone.


He shouldn't have set up the meeting at the Raven, Nick thought as he drove there.  But then, if LaCroix was going to get mad at him for leaving Tracy unattended, then they'd better get this argument over with in a hurry.  He went inside, grateful that he could not sense his master's presence.  

Patrick poured him a drink.  "They're willing to meet you," he said.
Nick didn't have to ask who they were.  He'd sensed them ever since entering the Raven.  They were old, cold, and distant.  He wasn't sure if they were as old as LaCroix, but he sensed they were much older than he was.  Fortifying himself by chugging the drink, he squared his shoulders and approached them.

The two vampires were dressed all in black, but the styles were a little different for Toronto.  The tailored tunics and blousy pants tucked into leather boots looked more eastern European and from some past century.  As he drew nearer, he noticed the woman's tunic even had black embroidery with tiny mirrors embedded in the center of each design.  It was exceedingly beautiful.

She was not.  Her too-narrow face and close-set eyes looked pinched and disdainful.  Her dark hair was pulled back into such a tight pug, that he wondered if it pulled the corners of her eyes into their unpleasant squint.  She was overly tall and thin, almost a manly figure.

The male vampire was tall as well, but big all over.  Broad shoulders with just a bit too much padding to look muscular.  His face was mostly concealed behind a bushy beard, and thick eyebrows cast his dark eyes in shadow.  Nick could not read any emotion in their cold faces, nor could he sense them as he drew near, which made his apprehension grow.
Finally, he stood at their table, feeling strangely boorish.  He stammered once, then drew a deep breath and pushed on ahead.

"Good evening.  I am Nicholas Knight.  May I speak with you?"

The man nodded slightly.  Nick sank into a chair, relieved he could sit down before his knees went out.  He had to form his sentences carefully, that he didn't offend these newcomers.  If only LaCroix had volunteered to do this!  But his master had never shown any interest in his "mortal" life as a cop.

"My sister, Corda, and I am Caspian," the vampire said gruffly.

An awkward silence floated around the table.  The elder vampires were not going to engage in the mortal customs of small talk.  Nick had always hated dealing with such stuffy Old World elders.  He cleared his throat and began.

"I am a detective with the Metro police," he said.  Already he could see the sneers on their faces, so like his master's.  This was going to be even worse than he'd imagined.

"We found a corpse washed up on the beach.  It is the work of a vampire- a sloppy one, at that."

Corda sniffed.  Caspian slapped the table with the flat of his hand.  "Why disturb our evening with your tale of such wastefulness?"

Nick squared his shoulders, trying hard not to squirm beneath their condescending glares.  "I must find out who is responsible," he said.

"Are you insulting us?" Corda blurted with indignation.

"No!" Nick said quickly.  Maybe it wasn't such a good thing that LaCroix wasn't here now.

"It sounded like it to me, fledgling.  How dare you even suggest that we had anything to do with it."

"I didn't," Nick stammered, beginning to squirm anyway.

"And now you call us liars?" Caspian jumped to his feet.

Nick felt the temperature of the room drop, and sensed the customers pulling away from the trouble that was brewing.   Nick stood, struggling to remember LaCroix's lessons on submission and humility, which had been some of the hardest to learn.  "No, master," he said, keeping his voice soft.  "I would never deign to impugn your noble character.  Please accept my humble apology."

Caspian continued to glare at him for a tense moment.  Then Nick felt his master's presence behind him, and felt both relieved and fearful.  
LaCroix nodded at the two guests.  "Good evening, Caspian," he said.  

So he knew them, Nick thought.  Why hadn't he told Nick that?  It would have saved him from having to come here, unless his master could not vouch for them.  Perhaps they truly were guilty?

"Is there a problem?" LaCroix prodded.

Caspian glowered at Nick a moment longer then turned his gaze away, effectively dismissing him as unimportant.  Nick grit his teeth, struggling to keep his irritation from showing.  "Your cub needs more lessons in manners.  But I will forgive him this once.  See that you tend to his education."

LaCroix laid a hand on Nick's shoulder.  It was a gesture of ownership and would tell the vampires that Nick had his protection.  Nick wisely held still and silent.  

"My son does the community a great service," LaCroix said softly.  "While he plays in the mortal world, he is able to protect us from discovery.  He has found vampire kills in the past, and managed to conceal the truth from mortals.  If he seems outspoken, bordering on rudeness, it is merely his passion that he devotes to everything he undertakes.  However, I promise you, that we will continue to work on those lessons he has not yet mastered."

The two guests nodded curtly at LaCroix.  Then they left the Raven without another word.  Nick shuddered with relief at their passing.  And he was stunned by LaCroix's speech.  If he didn't know better, he would almost think his master was proud of him!

"And what are you doing here," LaCroix said, his voice low and menacing.

Nick scowled at him.  All the anger and rebellion he'd felt at the other vampires was now unleashed on LaCroix.  "My job.  I have to find the careless vampire, and I didn't want to put Tracy in danger.  I left her at her desk in the precinct, where I don't think even she can get into trouble."

"She must not ever be left alone," LaCroix said firmly.  "I seem to recall telling you that.  I am not in the habit of tolerating such blatant disobedience!"

"She's not alone," Nick insisted.

"She is a lone vampire among mortals.  That is sheer stupidity for a newborn.  Come!  We will go see her together!"

LaCroix's grip on his arm was painful.  Nick could not shake him off.  Together they left the Raven and flew towards the precinct.






Waltz in the Sky, 04a/14
By Lorelei Sieja

Tracy had no sooner sat at her desk when two men from Internal Affairs surrounded her.  "Come with us," they said coldly.

She knew her dad must have sent them.  Not wanting to make a scene, she followed them out as far as the hallway.  "What's this all about," she snapped at them.

"Just come with us, Miss Vetter," the first man said.  

She glared at him.  He was familiar, some lackey whose loyalties were more to her dad than the law, she was sure.  

"I'm going no where.  You have no right to take me."

They each took her by an arm and continued towards the door.  "Commissioner Vetter wants us to deliver you to the 24-hour clinic for an immediate health examination.  He's concerned that you are not fit for your job, Miss Vetter.  Now you can come along nicely, or we have permission to cuff you and bring you in."

Tracy was livid.  She yanked herself from their grip with surprisingly little effort.  If only she knew how to hypnotize, she could get rid of them without further bother.  And where was that partner of hers!

"I'll go," she agreed, "but only if we wait for my partner."

"No."  

While she whirled on the one who'd denied her, the other carried out his threat and handcuffed her wrists together behind her back.  Tracy was mortified.  She was ready to scream.  Then they took her arms again and forced her out into their waiting car.

Now what, she wondered.  It was just a clinic.  Maybe, if the doctor didn't do anything too invasive, he wouldn't be alarmed.  After all, Nick had been in the emergency room a few times.  She muttered under her breath and struggled at the handcuffs.  She should be able to break them.  But then, how would she explain that?  Tracy wished she'd never gone anywhere near her dad.

"Will you go inside like a good little girl, or do we need to leave the handcuffs on," one man asked snidely.

"Take these off me now, if you know what's good for you," she threatened, striving to keep the red-gold glow from her eyes. 
 
They sniggered, but removed them before escorting her inside.  

The lights were too bright.  It hurt.  She blinked rapidly, praying she wouldn't weep the telltale red tears now.  A nurse came then and put her in a small examining room.  Tracy strained to listen to her captors, wondering if they would leave, or wait around to drive her back to work.  

"Now, what seems to be the problem, Miss Vetter," the nurse asked cheerily as she opened a file folder and clicked her pen.  

"My dad," she answered.  "He's demanding this.  I feel fine.  So, let's not waste another moment of the good doctor's time, and I'll just go."

"Now, now, that's okay, dear.  The doctor has plenty of time to waste- this isn't our busy period.  I have orders here for a complete physical- chest x-rays, blood panel, urinalysis... but we'll start with your blood pressure."

Tracy argued.  She tried to leave.  The two IA men came back in to hold her still for the nurse to strap the blood pressure cuff around her arm.  Then, when she had no blood pressure at all, the nurse went to get another cuff, and then another.  Tracy struggled harder, but the growing team of nurses, the doctor, and the two IA men held her captive, demanding to know why she had no pulse, no blood pressure, and her skin was so cold.  They probed her, withdrawing four large vials of blood and placed a call to the lab to handle them immediately.  Tracy was so frightened she started to cry, which alarmed the medical staff even further. 
 
Then the door was thrown wide open.  LaCroix and Nick stormed inside the crowded little examining room.  Nick was furious, but LaCroix looked deceptively calm.  Tracy could sense his intense anger.  Still, he was very much in control of the moment.  

"Nicholas, take her home at once.  I will clean up this mess," LaCroix said coldly.  When the IA men tried to interfere, LaCroix sent them to search for a red '62 volkswagon with a burned-out tail light.  They left at once to complete the assignment without question.  "And you," he ordered Tracy, "will go straight to your room and wait for me." 

Tracy swallowed back her fear and nodded.  "Yes, sir," she whispered.

She felt his eyes on her as she left the room.  Even turning the corner and going down the hallway, she sensed his nearness and his anger.  She had disobeyed, and she knew what he would do to her.  She felt both frightened and aroused, and was surprised at her own reaction.  

Nick grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside.  She didn't see the caddy anywhere.  He took her roughly and lifted into the night air.  

She was so tired.  The tension had been especially draining.  All she wanted was for this night to end.  She was even too tired to be excited about flying with him.  

Nick was silent.  She could tell by the set of his jaw that he was still furious.  A small muscle twitched, and she thought she saw blood sweat forming on his brow.  Was it that tiring to fly with someone?  Or had he really been worried about her?  He avoided even looking at her now.  At the Raven, he entered the apartment through the skylight and deposited her on the floor.

"Nick," she said softly.  "I'm sorry."

His eyes burned into her, flaming red passion.  "Tracy," he said.  "For the first time, I'm sorry I even know you."  Then he soared out through the skylight.

Tracy stood there, alone and tired, and wept.

She'd really messed up big time.  He'd been telling her a little bit about the code, and how important it was to keep knowledge of their existence a secret.  She'd already heard that from Vachon while still a mortal, but just how dangerous the smallest thing could be surprised her.  From now on, all contact with a doctor was to be taken seriously.  And her biological father was strictly off-limits.  

She knew his punishment would be harsh; and she was already hungry and tired.  She went to the refrigerator and drank greedily an entire bottle.  Then she went in to her bedroom to wait.

An hour later she felt his approach and roused from the light sleep.  She heard the door close, heard the lock catch.  Heard him call her.  She froze.  She wanted to run and hide, but knew there was no escaping him.  And part of her felt strangely drawn to him.  Soon, it would be over, and maybe they would make love again.  She got up from the bed and exited her room.

LaCroix stood, the immovable statue, barely contained rage and volatile passion.  Tracy trembled at the sight of him.

"You know what you did wrong," he stated.  His voice sent shivers up her back.

She nodded weakly.  "I disobeyed you.  I went to see my other dad."

"And?"

She thought quickly.  And what?  "And, six strokes for disobedience," she recalled.

"That is only the beginning," he said firmly.  "You showed disrespect by obeying Commissioner Vetter's wishes over my own.  You erred again when you allowed the doctors to make records of your condition.  Breaking the code can be punishable by death, but as my fledgling, it merits six more lashes.  Then, what did you do when you returned home?"

"I went to my room, like you told me to," she said, her voice trembling.  They were already up to eighteen.  He'd only hit her twelve the last time and it had horrible.  

"Yes, I told you to go straight to your room.  That did not include a side trip to the kitchen.  Direct disobedience again."  

Tracy felt cold as ice.  Her hands trembled.  She undid the snap on her jeans and stepped out of them as she bent over the table.  LaCroix grabbed her panties and tore them off.  She waited long moments, dreading it, as he pulled off his belt.  She heard him draw it back, heard the swoosh of air as he brought it down.  Heard the smack as it struck her.  She gasped, tears filled her eyes, and she bit her lip.  One.  

He drew the belt back and struck again, the leather bruising her tender skin.  Two.  Three.  Four.  The tears were flowing freely.  Why had she defied him?  She had known he would follow through on his promise, that disobedience would always be punished.  Had some perverse part of her longed for it?  The last spanking had been painful, yet it had also been incredibly erotic.  Now, all she felt was pain.

Five. Six. Seven. 

Tracy was certain she would never sit or stand and move again without permanent discomfort.  Eight.  Nine.

A part of her blocked out the pain.  She tried to recall the last time.  The joy of mating with him.  Of discovering that he did love her.

Eleven.  Twelve.  Still the punishment continued.  Tracy's fangs erupted as her instincts cried out for blood.  The sound of the belt echoed in her sensitive ears, pounding on her brain.  She lost count, convinced that the torture would never end.  

Finally LaCroix laid the belt down on the table.  Stiffly she stood, afraid to move.  

"You may think I am severe," LaCroix said coolly.  "Our culture has few laws and even fewer punishments.  The most common is death.  If any other vampire had been in that clinic tonight, you would no longer exist.  I demand obedience, and I thought you knew that."

She nodded miserably.  "Yes, LaCroix.  I do."

"Then, please explain yourself."

How could she?  She was so hungry and weak and hurting that she couldn't even think.  But she dare not disobey him again.  "I'm sorry.  I know you said not to see my dad again, but I just felt that I ought to, like say good bye or something.  Only I'm so sorry I went.  Not just because I disobeyed you, but because I learned what a creep that man really is.  I'm ashamed of him.  And I never want to see him again!"  She couldn't continue.  Her voice cracked into sobs.  

LaCroix pulled her into his embrace and kissed the top of her head.  "My child.  Some lessons are painful.  Now go to bed.  We will resume your education tomorrow."

Tracy's lip trembled as she pulled away from him.  Her stomach hurt with hunger that was nearly as painful as her rear.  Why wouldn't he put her to bed, like he did before?  Because, she realized, he intended that she should endure the punishment a little longer.  Dolefully she went into her room.  

Sleep did not come.  She could not rest on her back, and the mattress was too soft to sleep on her stomach.  Even lying on her side was uncomfortable, and she was only able to doze for a few hours at a time.  She heard LaCroix leave, and some time later, she heard him return.  She sensed a sadness so profound from him that it made her cry again.  Tracy vowed that she would try to never again disobey him.  Not just because she dreaded his punishment, but because she loved him.


In the middle of the afternoon Tracy gave up trying to sleep.  She showered, but wasn't yet ready to dress.  She pulled on a terry robe and cinched the belt, listening for LaCroix.  Was he up yet?  Would it be all right to feed?  The welts on her rear had mostly healed, although it was still very tender and her stomach rumbled painfully.  

Hesitantly, she opened her door.  LaCroix sat in his favorite chair, sipping a beverage and reading.  He didn't look up when she joined him.  Was he still angry with her?  

"Um, good evening, master," she ventured softly.

He closed his book and eyed her, his face a cold mask.  "Good evening, my child," he said.  "Have something to ease your hunger, then we will begin a new lesson."

Gratefully, she moved to the refrigerator, although part of her grieved that he wouldn't make love to her right now.  The bottled blood was not filling, nor did it do much to heal her discomfort.  He was all she could think about. 


"Last night's lesson included controlling hunger," LaCroix said.  "Going to bed hungry is not pleasant, and should be avoided at all costs.  Let it be a reminder to you, never let yourself get too hungry.  And when we must hunt for our meal, it should be done well before dawn."

Tracy nodded.  She had thought that "going to bed without supper" had just been part of the punishment.  Now, she realized that it had been a lesson, and one she would have had to face eventually.  

"You did well with controlling your instincts.  The ability to control yourself is one of the most important lessons if you wish to live and work among mortals.  We will cover this frequently until you have it mastered."

Tracy tried to concentrate.  His voice was a balm.  She watched his lips move, watched the slight indent in his cheek as it peaked in and out while he spoke.  On anyone else, it would be called a dimple, but the word seemed incongruous to describe the ancient Roman.  He had such a cultured way of speech.  His word choice was eloquent, if not readily comprehendable.  Her tongue slipped between her fangs to moisten her lips as she stared at him.

LaCroix laughed softly.  Tracy jumped, startled to realize that she had not been paying attention to him at all.   "I'm sorry, sir," she said quickly, her words awkward around her teeth.  "I'll try harder."

"No, my dear.  It is quite all right.  You require more sleep."

Her heart fell.  Her bed was cold and lonely.  She was almost too tired to go there.  Then she felt herself being lifted up.  Her master held her effortlessly and carried her into her room.  Laying her on her bed with surprising tenderness, he slowly loved her, until his ancient blood healed her completely.  Later, she was only vaguely aware as he lay beside her and pulled her into his embrace.  She sensed him brush a kiss on her forehead, and thought she heard him whisper.  

"My little daughter.  It pains me to see you suffer.  I fear you are coming to mean very much to me; I wish only to keep you safe forever."

She cuddled closer to his chest.  She shivered, until he pulled the quilt up over both of them, and then she slept soundly.



Waltz in the Sky, 04b/14
Lorelei Sieja 


Tracy waited nervously for Nick to arrive.  She burned with remorse, wanting to apologize, yet not sure how to make it up to him.  It was certain that he wouldn't trust her now.  And partnerships had to be built on trust.  She put on makeup, but still felt pale and miserable.  Hearing a car's horn, she looked out the window.  Nick was parked just outside the back door of the Raven.  He wasn't coming upstairs tonight like he had every other night.  Blinking back tears, she grabbed her coat and purse and started to leave.

LaCroix escorted her down the stairs and to the back door. He placed his hands on her shoulders then and kissed her forehead.  "Behave yourself, my daughter," he said lightly.

Rising up on her toes, she whispered into his ear.  "Sure, dad!"  Then she kissed his neck and went outside, relieved to know that LaCroix was not still angry with her.

Nick was another story.  His manners were more than brusque- almost vengeful.  He didn't say a single word to her the entire trip.  Tracy blinked back tears again, not knowing what to say to make things right.  

In the parking lot she bolted from the car to confront him before he could escape inside.  "Nick, I'm sorry!  I screwed up!  All right?"  

"Fine," he spat angrily, and sidestepped her. 

"Nick, stop!  Talk to me!"

"I've nothing to say."  How often had she seen him like this before- a seething wall of rage- driving everyone away from him?  It had earned him the nickname of the Knightmare.  Now though, she was not afraid of him.  They had to get beyond this, if she was going to work with him.

"Nick!" She cried and grabbed his arm to stop him.
He blanched visibly and gasped in pain.  Tracy let go at once, but she knew she wasn't that strong.  He turned away from her.  

"Nick, what is it?  What's wrong?"

Still, he didn't speak.  His head hung low and he looked so alone.  She wanted to comfort him, but didn't know what was bothering him.  "Nick, if you won't trust me and talk to me right now, then I'm going to the captain.  I'll tell him that we've been sleeping together, and demand a new partner."

"You can't do that," he whispered.

"I will."

He glanced off in either direction, then took her and flew to the rooftop.  He put her down and glared at her, the familiar obstinate expression firmly planted on his face.  

Tracy didn't say anything.  She opened her new senses and tried to touch Nick's mind.  He didn't really seem to be angry.  The anger was just a smoke screen.  She wasn't certain what she did sense from him, though.  Tenderly, she reached out and touched his shoulder.  Again she saw him wince.  He sucked in his breath and pulled away from her.

"Oh my gosh, Nick," she whispered, suddenly knowing what was wrong.  She stepped closer, tears filling her eyes and spilling over.  "But why?" she asked.  "It wasn't your fault!  I went out on my own!"

"Because I promised to protect you and I failed."

"So what does he expect from you!"

Nick turned his back to her and stared off into the night.  She saw the defeated slump of his shoulders and nearly wept.  Just yesterday he had been proud and strong... and now he was confused and hurting.  

"He wants me to be more like him," Nick said.  "And I can't."

Tracy stepped closer behind him.  She didn't know where it would be safe to touch, only that she needed to comfort him.  The pieces were falling together, parts of the picture.  Nick had failed LaCroix, and the ancient would demand he be punished.  Only Nick, the proud Crusader, would have refused to submit.  So it had been no simple punishment, but a brutal beating.  Then LaCroix must have denied his healing blood to his son, who continued to defy him. 

Tracy had learned that mortal blood fed and comforted her and over time, would heal.  But when she'd been seriously injured, the blood of the ancient vampire healed instantly.  If Nick had even fed from Urs, he should have recovered by now.  But in his anger and shame, he must have avoided even his lover.

How many times in the past had he come to work, beaten and hurting, using his anger to keep anyone from touching him?

"Nick," she said, moving closer behind him.  She put her arms around him on either side, but without touching.  She felt for the buttons on his shirt and undid them, one at a time. 

"Nick, please, take me.  Feed from me!  I beg you!"  The last button gave way.  The soft silk shirt slipped from his shoulders and fell to the rooftop.  Nick was shrouded in dark and shadows, but with her new sight, the angry wounds and bruises were plainly visible.  Lightly, barely touching, she kissed each one, caressing them with her tongue.  Broken ribs, partially set, dark bruises over them... after more than half a day to still be so vivid, she couldn't even imagine what he had looked like earlier.  


Nick didn't move.  He didn't stop her, either.  Slowly, she saw the tension leave his shoulders.  When she'd kissed the entire length of his back, she moved to one arm and then the other, caressing, softly brushing against damaged skin, being careful not to cause any further discomfort.  

She was feeling too warm again, which annoyed her.  She'd only meant to comfort him, to somehow make up for the fact that he was hurting and it was all her fault.  She didn't figure that she should find pleasure in this exchange.  She wouldn't drink from him tonight.  Not when he was already weakened.

Nick took her wrists and stopped her deliberate seduction.  She groaned, ready to beg him to let her continue, but he lowered his fly and stepped out of his trousers.  In moments he stood before her, indescribable beautiful, a naked statue of marble in moonlight, and fully aroused.  Then his hands went to her clothes and removed them.  

She shivered involuntarily, not from cold but rather anticipation.  Nick began a slow assault on her senses then, as he touched her skin with feather-light kisses.  She marveled at his control and concentration, as she saw sore muscles wince at every movement.  She was eager for him now.

Nick stood, giving her a toothy smile.  She felt her own fangs descend.  She loved his vampire face.  It was the most erotic, arousing vision!  He was such a contradiction- a boyish, innocent face with the eyes of a demon and the teeth of a predator.  She would never tire of looking at it.

Then they made love on the roof of the precinct.  Nick, in his passion and pain, drank heartily from her, but Tracy took only a taste of him.  

Sated and healed, they stood together and embraced.  The winter wind blew around their naked bodies, but they did not notice.  Finally, they replaced their clothing and straightened their hair.  Nick's movements were more fluid now.  She had experienced the vicious beating he'd suffered through tasting his blood and was suddenly grateful that she was not LaCroix's favorite child.    

"You, little sis, are a woman of many talents," Nick said huskily.

Tracy would have blushed if she'd been mortal.  As it was, she just shrugged and accepted the lightly teasing words as a sign that all was forgiven.  "Shall we show up at work tonight?"

Nick lifted from the roof, laughing as she called out to him for a ride.  Swooping back for her, he carried her swiftly down to the ground, making her stomach flip at the sudden descent.  They were both laughing as they went inside to work.

The gossip makers decided that the lover's quarrel had been resolved.





Waltz in the Sky 05a/14
By Lorelei Sieja


Tracy took the top file and opened it, not really caring about the case.  It was old, and there was so little to go on that it would probably be filed with the unsolveds shortly.  The dead guy had been despised by many, and yet they all had alibis.  It didn't seem like a case worth solving.  Her cold attitude shocked her only a bit.  Her perspective was changing daily and she wasn't sure anymore what was right and wrong.

Feeling Nick's eyes on her, she looked up surprised to see the intent gaze with soft gold flecks and wondered what was running through his mind now. 

"Thanks, Tracy," he said.

She grinned broadly.  "I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to return the favor, bro."

He laughed.  "I hope for your sake, not too many."

"Nick," she asked, laying aside the folder.  "I understand that you don't want me involved with the Jacobs case, but, will you tell me about it?  Keep me informed?  And I promise to stay out."

His smile softened and he considered her request.  Then he nodded.  "Fine.  But, let's talk in the car."

"So where will we go?"

"To see Nat," he said.  Once inside the caddy, he started to tell her what little he'd learned.  "The victim was Alvin Jacobs.  He was 33, from Louisiana, and we haven't learned much about him yet.  We don't know why he was in Toronto, or who he knew, only that he arrived here four weeks ago and he was asking a lot of questions about you."

Tracy jumped.  "Me?  Why me?"

Nick shrugged.  "I haven't a clue."

Tracy's heart beat twice in quick succession and her hands trembled.  

"What's wrong?" Nick prodded.

"I wish I had never gone to see dad," she said, as two red tears spilled down her pale cheeks.  

Nick had had similar feelings, but he thought they were over that now.  

"I overheard him talking to someone on the phone, and it sounded like he was somehow involved in this murder."

"Tracy?  Are you sure?  What exactly did you hear?"

Tracy closed her eyes to concentrate better.  Then carefully, she told Nick everything she remembered.  "I don't love him, Nick.  I don't even like him.  But, I don't want to see him dead.  I just wish he'd go away and leave me alone," she confessed.

Nick nodded and put an arm around her shoulders.  "I can understand that.  Tracy, tonight, when you go home, tell LaCroix everything you just told me.  Alright?"

She nodded, wiping away the tears.  "But why?"

"Well, for one, you don't want him to think you were keeping information from him, and for two, it will make a difference how he handles the commissioner in the future."

Nick held open the door for her, absently showing that outdated chivalry she'd accused him of before.  Tracy just grinned and went in.  Maybe some habits could not be changed.  She didn't really mind the gossip, either.  It was kind of funny.  

"So why are we here?" She asked.

Nick pulled her closer and whispered softly.  "Nat wants to meet you, now that you're one of us.  Do you mind if she takes a blood sample?"

It seemed like a strange request.  Tracy had heard about Nick's desire to become mortal again.  She thought it was ridiculous, and wondered why LaCroix permitted him to search.  Still, he looked so hopeful just then, and she still felt responsible for getting him in trouble.  She simply shrugged. "I guess."

"Thanks, kid," he said, and grinned at her.

Natalie got up from her desk as they entered.  Tracy noted that there were no bodies visible.  Nick must have asked her to put them away before bringing her in.  Tracy didn't mind the added consideration.  Bodies no longer grossed her out, and she no longer felt embarrassed, like she had to prove herself.  Now they just looked tasty.  

"Hi, Tracy," Natalie said awkwardly.  "I've been looking forward to this.  Can you stay and chat?"

Tracy looked at Nick.  He nodded.  "I'll wait outside," he said.  

Natalie looked surprised, like he didn't trust her with Tracy.  

"LaCroix's orders," Tracy explained.  

That seemed to satisfy.  Nat turned up a radio.  "For privacy," she explained.  She knew Nick could hear through doors, but perhaps the music would further confuse him.  "So, Tracy.  What was it like?"

Tracy felt oddly embarrassed.  Somehow, making love totally naked on the roof of the police precinct seemed perfectly normal, but trying to tell this mortal woman about her new, sensual experiences was just too weird.  "What was what like?  Why do you want to know?"

It was Natalie's turn to blush.  "Let's just say that I've given some consideration to coming across, and I'm curious."

Tracy sat in the other chair and accepted a plastic pouch of blood, while Nat stirred her tea.  Just like two friends chatting over lunch, she thought dryly.  Then she started to tell Natalie, and was greatly encouraged at the woman's questions.  Nat was more interested in the actual act of becoming a vampire, from a scientist's perspective, than in the sensual experience.

"I admire your courage, Tracy.  I've thought about this for years, and I just can't seem to make the final commitment.  I guess, because, other than having no love life, I love my life here."

"Well, I regretted it at first," she admitted then.  "I think it would have been different if I'd had a vampire sister.  Guys can be so obtuse and that doesn't change with eternity.  I was feeling things, and no one- not LaCroix, or Nick, or Vachon, was able to help me deal with my emotions.  My first week would have been unbearable if not for Urs."

Natalie stiffened at the mention of Nick's girlfriend, which irritated her further.  She loved Nick, but she knew she was no longer in love with him.  She shouldn't begrudge him the brief happiness.  He'd had precious little in his long life.  

"Urs is really a sweetheart," Tracy said gently, sensing her discomfort.

Nat forced a bright smile.  "I'm sure she is.  And I am happy for Nick.  Really."

"So why didn't you ever come across to be with him?  I always thought you loved him."

"I do," Nat said quickly.  "I've loved him ever since he first sat up on my table.  But something always held me back.  I'd be ready to do it, to make the commitment, and then he'd do something really stupid, and I'd ask myself if I was willing to give up everything to be with a man who would not grow up."

Tracy grinned.  She'd already noticed Nick's Peter Pan tendencies herself.  Even though by mortal appearance he was a good 10 or 12 years older, and in actuality was almost 800 years older, she still saw his actions as often immature.

"So why are you still considering it, then?" Tracy asked.  Natalie's heart was pulsing wildly.  She had a secret and she was fairly bursting to share it.  Tracy watched as emotions played across Nat's face: concern, eagerness, hope, denial.  "I can keep a secret from anyone, except LaCroix," Tracy said by way of encouragement.  

Nat smiled then.  "Okay.  LaCroix has intimated that he is interested in me."

Tracy gasped.  "You can't be serious!"

Nat blushed and her smile widened.  "I don't know what to think.  For six hears I have hated him, blaming him for all of Nick's troubles.  Now, things are changing.  We're not fighting about Nick and I find I miss LaCroix's company."

"So, when would you do it?  Are you getting serious?"

Nat laughed.  Tracy was displaying some of the old perky youthful enthusiasm, and suddenly she didn't seem so very different.  "No, I won't come across for a few years yet, if LaCroix gives me that long.  Eternity is too long to make a mistake.  I want to get to know him better, maybe let him court me.  And, I have to let my relationship with Nick settle, so there won't be any jealousy between them."

"So," Tracy said slowly, mischief playing in her expression.  "Would that make you like my little sister, or my mom?"

"Yes," Nat answered, and they laughed together.

Tracy stood.  She was feeling very tired and explained that to Nat.  "So, Nick said you wanted to draw some blood?"

"I do," Nat answered.  "But, I suspect I should ask LaCroix first.  We'll do it some other time.  Okay?"

She followed Tracy to the door.  Nick had pulled up a chair across the hall and kept his eyes on her office the entire time.  Now he rose and approached them, trying to act indifferent, yet his innate curiosity was coming out.  Nat couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him.  

"Okay, Nick.  We're all done talking about you for now!"

Tracy giggled.  "Let's go home, partner.  I'm beat."



Nick wouldn't walk her upstairs once they reached the Raven.  "Oh come on, Nick," she prodded.  "Forgive and forget.  It's over."

He refused.  "I have work to do." 

She felt his protective gaze follow her until she knocked on the door and LaCroix let her in.  The two men glared at each other but said nothing.  Tracy sighed.  She knew she had a vampire sister somewhere.  If only Janette would come to visit, maybe she wouldn't feel so outnumbered.  

LaCroix brought her a glass and escorted her into the living room.  Soft music played over the speakers, the lights were dimmed.  He seemed mellow tonight.  Tracy wondered if he was missing Nicholas.  

"Tell me about your evening, my dear," he asked gently.

"I had a nice visit with Natalie," Tracy began, watching his face.  She thought she saw a spark of something in his cool, blue eyes, but wasn't quite sure.  "Nick was there.  He waited in the hallway, watching over me, but Nat wanted to have a girls-only chat."  

The spark of interest fanned.  He wasn't irritated with Nick, in fact, she wasn't certain he was thinking about his son at all.  LaCroix's face was carefully controlled, cool, like alabaster stone, and yet she was nearly certain that his heart beat at the mention of Natalie's name.  She'd have to say it a few more times and see if she was right.

"And what did the irrepressible Miss Lambert want to talk about?"

"She wanted to know what it was like to come across," Tracy 

said, sipping her beverage and drawing out the conversation even though she was so very, very tired.  "I know that kind of talk is not allowed with mortals, sir, but Nat seems like the exception.  I mean, since the Fever and all.  I hope you don't mind."

LaCroix smiled indulgently.  "It would be better to ask permission before you do something, but in this instance, I do not mind."

Tracy decided not to tell LaCroix just how much Nat liked him and was considering his advances.  She would drop a few hints and watch.  With LaCroix, she felt it would be better not to become too involved in this relationship.  The parent/child/master/lover relationship was already too complicated to add "matchmaker" in to the equation.

LaCroix finished his beverage and rose.  Drawing Tracy in his arms, he put her to bed.






Waltz in the Sky 05b/14
By Lorelei Sieja

Nick didn't return to the precinct.  He'd pulled a photo id of Alvin Jacobs from a record of his visa and obtained sketchy personal information.  Jacobs had no family; his sister died three years before.  The incident must have shaken him, for he quit his job and had traveled extensively ever since.  Nick would hit some of the nightclubs and convenience stores and see if anyone recognized him.  

But after hours of footwork, he'd learned that Alvin Jacobs never went to the nightclubs, never went shopping, and so far, no one seemed to know him.  He hadn't even been able to find an address for him!  It seemed incredible, that in this age of technology, a man could just die, and no one would miss him.  

But something about the conversation Tracy had overheard at the commissioner's house bothered him.  The caller, "Turk", had answered as though he'd known how vampires would conceal a sloppy kill.  And Jacobs had been killed by a vampire.  But if the hitman was the vampire, then why had he botched the disposal so badly?  What was he trying to do?  The more Nick thought about it, the angrier he became.  The only possible answer was that this vampire wanted to cause Nick trouble- perhaps another meddling elder with a grudge against him working for mortals.  It was time to find this "Turk".

The name wasn't familiar.  Maybe Larry Merlin could be persuaded to help.  The vampire computer expert helped others to relocate when it was time to move on, managing the paper trail that would support their new identities.  It was a long shot, but maybe he could help Nick uncover something about Jacobs or this Turk.  After all, it was a case that threatened vampire security.  



Merlin smiled at his guest.  "Planning on leaving now, Brabant?  Baby sister not working out?"

"No, that's not it," Nick hedged.  He offered Merlin a gift of Raven private stock, which had been a gift to him.  It might help his case.  Merlin's eyes widened.  

"This must be serious," he murmured.

"I wouldn't trouble you if it were otherwise," Nick said.  He waited while Merlin chose to open the bottle and share it with him.  Then the older vampire encouraged Nick to speak.

"Mortals have found someone's kill," Nick began, jumping right to the heart of the matter.  Merlin was instantly alert.  It was almost a vampire's worst fear; only facing a gang vampire hunters was more threatening.  "I have nothing to go on, really.  Tracy overheard a conversation that a hitman, Turk, might be involved.  Do you know a vampire that might be going by that name?"

"No," he said slowly.  "But, you know how easily names are changed.  What else do you know about him?  Do you have a description?"

Nick shook his head.  "I was hoping that you might use your skills to help me learn something about the deceased, at least."

Merlin shrugged.  Researching mortals wasn't much fun, but neither was it challenging.  After getting a few details from Nick, he began to hack away, a useful skill he had developed to perfection.  Nick had scarcely drained his glass before Merlin had the access he sought.

"Alvin Jacobs' sister was Bonnie!" Merlin exclaimed.  

Nick stared blankly.  The name Bonnie Jacobs didn't ring any bells for him.  "Why?"

Merlin whistled through his crooked teeth.  "Sweet Baby Bonnie.  She was Herman's newest progeny.  Such a pretty little thing, but she was staked while still in her infancy."

Nick choked.  "She was a vampire?"

"Are you all right, Nick?  You seem a little dull-witted tonight, of course she was a vampire.  So that's the link. How does that affect our Alvin, and put him in a vampire's path?"

"Do you think Herman would have done it, for revenge," Nick asked, thinking aloud.

"Herman would not have been careless," Merlin snapped.

Nick started to pace.  It seemed that something about this case must be obvious, but he wasn't getting it yet.  "Alvin has a job, a home, and a sister.  Then she changes, becomes a vampire... maybe Alvin finds out the truth.  Maybe they were more than just close."

Merlin listened, enjoying the tale, whether there was any truth in it or not.

"Some humans develop a closeness," Nick continued.  "Merlin, how old was his sister- when was her birthdate?"

Merlin returned to his screen, searching for the public records.  "Date of birth was February 10, 1966."

"The same as Alvin's!  He called her his younger sister, but in fact, she was the younger twin!"  Nick lifted Merlin's gift bottle and absently refilled both glasses.  "So, Alvin suspects the change in her, through whatever bond the twins shared.  Did he stake her?  His own sister?  That would make him a target for any vampire.  But, it doesn't quite hold, not if he loved her."

"Where did he work?" Merlin questioned.

"He was a teacher at Louisiana Tech, a junior college, and was studying for his Ph.D."

Merlin then broke in to the college's computers and accessed Alvin's email.  Luckily, the man had set his mail to retain a copy of all sent documents, and the seldom-used account still held the out-dated mail.  For the next two hours the vampires poured through Alvin's private mail, learning more about the man than Nick would have ever believed possible.

The oldest letters were unimportant, except to show how much he loved his sister, a fact Nick already suspected.  Then, after her conversion, Alvin started to seek new email buddies.  Some of them used the word "vampire" in their nicknames or email addresses, which made Nick smile.  A true vampire would never do such a thing.  Apparently, Alvin was searching for vampires online!  Many of those letters were cryptically brief, until Alvin located one called "spvh".  Inside the message they learned that the name was an anagram for "Saint Paul, Vampire Hunter".  

Merlin shivered visibly.  "Your man had some dangerous friends, Nick."

Nick read further.  "It looks like Alvin was only trying to find help for his sister, not kill her."

"True.  But he unwittingly led the hunters right to her.  I wonder if he ever discovered his error."

Nick sighed.  "So, we now have uncovered more or less, the mystery of his sister's demise.  That still doesn't help us with his killer."

Merlin agreed.  "And, charming as this is, I'd rather you left before sun-up.  I'll search a little while longer.  Stop by tonight before you go to work, and I'll tell you if I've learned anything new."

Nick got up to leave, rubbing at a stiffness in his back.  Maybe Urs would rub it for him?  The thought brought a wave of anticipation, and he had to turn away to conceal his arousal from the elder.  

"And Nick," Merlin said.  "Bring another bottle with you.  That one seems to be empty."








Waltz in the Sky, 06a/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Urs drifted through Nick's loft, feeling it's gloom and loneliness like a curse.  He'd acted so angry last night, shutting her out lest she discover his fear.  He had told her to leave.  Urs quietly flew to the church and spent the night with Vachon, where she learned at least part of the story.  Tracy and Nick were both in trouble, and LaCroix was on a warpath.  

She'd been nearly asleep when she was awakened by strange feelings.  Somehow she knew what Nick was going through.  She wept for him, wishing he had allowed her to stay with him.  She could have offered him solace after his master left.  But she also sensed Nick's need to be alone.  

Tonight she had returned to his loft, not permitting herself to indulge in a petty sulk to wait for him to apologize.  She tidied up a bit, straightening the furniture that had been tossed about in their battle.  Tonight she couldn't sense him.  Maybe because she hadn't shared his blood recently, or maybe it was only strong emotions she could sense, but Urs didn't mind.  She knew he would be returning shortly, and she would just wait for him.

When she heard the unmistakable sounds of his caddy as it rumbled into the garage, she quickly flew into the bedroom and shed all of her clothes, then wrapped herself only in his silk robe.  She returned to the lift and waited for him to emerge.

Nick looked so tired.  He smiled at her sheepishly, and Urs went to him, hugging him warmly.  His arms went around her, he nuzzled her neck, but she could feel his exhaustion.  She would still have to wait.  

She helped him to undress and then helped him to bed.  There were no angry recriminations that he had avoided her last night, no accusations or righteous indignation.  Only patience and love.  Nick knew he should apologize to her, but he was just too tired.  He'd make it up later.  

Urs gently massaged his back, rubbing at the tightness between his shoulders, keeping her motions soothing.  She heard his breathing slow and nearly stop, felt his thoughts slow as well, until she knew he was asleep.  

Urs let him nap.  He looked so worn out and she wanted him fully recovered.  Still, as she cuddled up against him, she longed to wake him.  She ached for him.  For an hour she held him.  Then, her patience had reached its limit.  She breathed softly into his ear.  Stroking the sensitive skin at his throat with a long fingernail, she watched the sleeping vampire slowly respond.  

He slept like the dead.  His eyes remained closed and his breathing almost non-existent, but his body responded.  One arm crushed her to him in a dream-filled embrace.  She felt his arousal press against her.  She nuzzled at his neck, then licked the tender spot over the jugular as her fangs descended.  Finally, she nipped him.

A growl issued from his throat as his eyes opened, glowing red embers of desire.  In one swift movement he traded places, pinning her beneath him.  He grasped her hands in one of his and held them above her head, then used his free hand to trace the smooth line of her throat.  

Urs smiled shyly.  "Good morning, Nicky," she whispered.

"So is it time to play?" he said huskily, nipping her lightly with his fangs.  She gasped, struggling to free herself that she might embrace him in her desire.  Nick laughed.  "Who now is the prisoner?  What do you plead?"

"I plead guilty, my love," Urs said.  Her arms were still immobile, but she squirmed her hips against him.  "Take me!"

In a swift thrust, Nick buried his fangs in her throat and drank hungrily of the love she offered him.  He released her hands then, and turned to bare his own throat to her.  Urs completed the circle, taking in his sweet essence, the taste of honey and wine.  They drank until their passion exploded and they lay weak and contented in each other's arms.

"Good morning, Urs," Nick said.

She saw the tears pool in his eyes, and reached into the memories of the blood kiss they'd just shared.  He was overwhelmed with guilt.  Guilt for turning her away last night, guilt for the renewed tensions between him and his master, guilt for the dead mortal, and even guilt for the vampire responsible.  Misappropriate guilt, she realized.  Except for his relationship with his master, he had done nothing wrong.  Quickly she tried to reassure him. 

"I love you, Nicholas Knight de Brabant!  Don't ever doubt that!"

"I'm sorry about last night," he began, but she shushed him with a kiss.

"Don't be.  I love it when you share a bed with me, but don't feel guilty for the days you chose to sleep alone, my love.  I will be here when you want me."

He blinked, but the tears still slipped out.  Urs licked at them lightly.  Was it the guilt that made him taste so sweet?  But he had had enough self-recrimination to last an eternal lifetime, and she vowed she would not add to it.  No matter what transpired between them in the future, she would love him enough to let him go.  She would only love him.  At some point, he would chose to move on, as such was their way.  She would not hold him back, nor even consider walking into the sun to end her misery, as he would feel guilty about that as well.  No, her gift to him would be to find happiness, that she could love him as he was meant to be loved.  As he needed to be loved. 

Nick hugged her then.  "Thank you," he whispered.  He yawned and his eyes grew heavy.  

"Sleep, my love," she cooed.  "Rest well..."





Nick went inside the Raven and waited at the foot of the stairs.  When Tracy appeared, he looked behind her at LaCroix, striving to keep his expression neutral.  The ancient returned a cold, blank stare.  Tracy glared at Nick.  One of them would have to make the first move, but the two stubborn vampires continued to face off, both wanting reconciliation, and neither willing to work towards it.  

"Come on, Partner," she snapped angrily.  "Time to go."

Nick drove towards Merlin's in silence.  She got out of the car and followed him to the hidden apartment, wondering when he was going to get around to clueing her in.  She felt strange.  Something was familiar about this place, although she was certain she had never been here before.

"Come in," called a man's voice, even before Nick knocked.  

She followed him inside, leaving behind a dark, vacant alley with trash on the road.  Inside, there was a long, cement stairway that lead to the living quarters below, which were filled with computers and electronic equipment that might have put a NASA lab to shame.  She stared, open-mouthed, at the technology visible. 

The man looked older than Nick, with thinning hair and slightly crooked teeth.  He wore wire-framed glasses and was casually dressed, just what she would expect from a geeky computer hacker.  Then he took her hand in his and placed a kiss lightly on the fingertips.

"Larry Merlin, at your service, Miss," he said gallantly.

"You're a-" she blurted, her mouth moving before her brain, as the familiar tingle of a vampire alerted all her senses.  "Uh, you're sweet," she quickly replied.

Merlin smiled indulgently at her near lapse in etiquette, but did not make any further comment.  

"Larry Merlin serves the community," Nick said, wishing now he'd prepared her for this visit, instead of wallowing in his misery during the drive.  "When it is time for us to move on, he will create new names, identities, careers, whatever we need to slip in to a new life in another town."

"Handy," she said nervously.  "Are you planning a move?"

Merlin smiled.  "No, he is not.  I am doing him a RARE service, helping to solve the Alvin Jacobs case, a service I will not provide in the future."  He directed his last statement at Nick with a firmness that spoke of his authority among vampires.

Nick nodded, accepting the statement.  "Did you uncover anything else?"

"Yes, but not directly related to this case.  I learned that there is quite a network of vampire hunters online, and that by linking together, they are growing in numbers and becoming more of a threat.  I must leave tonight to bring this information before the council.  Action must be taken at once!"

Tracy trembled, as she experienced Nick's fear in a sudden slap of emotion before her older brother could recover.  She didn't know enough to be afraid.  Vampires were immortal.  What harm were some mortal hunters?

Nick gave him the bottle he had requested.  He had had to purchase this one, as he wasn't about to ask LaCroix for anything.  "Thanks, Merlin.  Safe journey."

Tracy followed Nick back towards the caddy and reached out with her senses to try to understand him.  He seemed conflicted- fear, anger, passion, and guilt warred within him.  

"Nick?" she asked.  "What danger are hunters?"

Nick was silent until they were inside the car, the windows and doors closed, and he started the engine.  Then he turned to her with a serious look.  "They are deadly," he said.  "They know our weaknesses, and often prey upon us while we sleep, when we are most vulnerable.  They come in a pack, with wooden stakes, holy water, garlic oil, and anything else their twisted minds can think up, and take us out.  

"Vampires cannot even report the murder of one of their own.  There is never a body left behind for evidence, since at death, we become nothing but ash.  We are not protected by mortal laws.  We depend on one another more at such times than ever before, and yet, fear of hunters often scatters vampires into hiding, into small isolated groups that are more vulnerable than ever to the danger of the hunters."

Tracy stared, wide-eyed, at his explanation, and felt a growing sense of fear herself.  "Do you think there are hunters in Toronto?"

Nick shrugged.  "I don't think so.  It's possible.  But Alvin Jacob's sister was killed by hunters in Louisiana.  Now he's dead, from a vampire bite.  We still don't know why he came here, though."

They arrived at the precinct, neither laughing nor arguing, and the gossip was fuddled to know why.  

Tracy couldn't stop thinking about her mortal father.  He had spoken to an unknown "Turk", and talked about paying him money to do a task.  It bothered her.  She worried at it, and wondered how she could get access to her dad's bank account.  It was certain no one in the police department would give her permission; they were too intimidated by him.  

"Nick," she asked, pitching her voice too low for mortal ears.  Being a vampire had some wonderful benefits.  She and Nick could hold very private conversations even in a crowded room.  "You're not getting anywhere with Jacobs.  Maybe we need to try a new tack?"

Nick scowled.  That Tracy was right didn't make him feel any better.  "Like what," he grunted.

"We should check out my dad, and that Turk he talked to."

Nick shook his head.  "Not a wise idea, to investigate the commissioner.  And his conversation might not have anything to do with this case."

"We won't let anyone know we're investigating him," she insisted.  "But I have to know.  If he's not involved, I will feel so much better.  Please?"

Nick thought about it, then nodded.  She was right about one thing.  He was getting nowhere.  "Come along," he said as he grabbed his coat.

Tracy grinned.  Nick had told her that she couldn't help with this case, and yet he invited her along.  Well, he must have felt that her dad's house was safe enough.  And it was.  LaCroix had forbidden her to see her birth-dad again, but it was Thursday.  He wouldn't be home for hours.  

Nick parked several blocks away from the commissioner's house and they walked the remaining distance, keeping to the shadows.  The house didn't look empty.  There were lights on in three rooms, a radio or TV playing.  But their sensitive ears could not detect a mortal heartbeat.  Nick was ready to force open the lock, when Tracy showed him the key.  Quickly, they both went inside.

A swift search through the house didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, except that Commissioner Vetter seemed to live on more money than he earned.  Nick had suspected the man was involved in some schemes, but had no proof.  

Tracy went to the computer in the den and brought up her dad's email.  Nothing there of interest.  He must have a second, private account.  Nick searched through closets.  He found dozens of firearms which seemed strangely similar to ones that had "disappeared" from lock-up.  Was Vetter reselling them on the black market?  

They worked for over an hour, so deep in thought, that neither had heard the car approach, until Vetter was at the front door.  Tracy gasped, her face paled and her heart beat twice.

"Nick, we've got to go NOW!" she whispered.

Nick shook his head.  "I think I should question him.  Maybe with a little hypnotic push, he'll tell us what we need to know?"

"I- I can't!  LaCroix forbid me to see him again!"

Nick grinned.  "So close your eyes."





Waltz in the Sky, 06b
By Lorelei Sieja



Tracy gulped, staring at the older vampire in disbelief.  Then, she did as he suggested.  

Vetter slammed the door and glared at the two detectives in his house, an angry threat already on his lips.

"Tracy, what-the-hell is this about!  Is this a social visit?  You know I'm not home on Thursdays!"

Nick interrupted him, speaking in a soft, soothing voice.  It took a while to capture the commissioner, and Nick was afraid for a few moments that he would be a resistor and Nick's life as a cop was going to be over shortly.  But then Vetter grew silent and compliant, responding to all of Nick's suggestions.  He sat down and told them what he knew about Alvin Jacobs.

"He was sniffing after my baby," he said.  "Asking questions.  Suggesting she was into something evil.  Said she was possessed, and he was going to free her spirit.  I warned him to stay away from her.  He continued to pursue her, and I paid Turk to get rid of him."

"Get rid of him?  How?" Tracy gasped, still keeping her eyes covered.  She turned her back to the man, to further ensure she didn't just forget.

"Turk's worked for me twice before.  Usually gets rid of the bodies real nice."

"Where can I find this Turk?" Nick asked.

Vetter was silent.  Nick asked him again, but Vetter didn't have an answer.

"When I want to reach him, I put two lamps on in the east window.  Then, the next night, I go to Brooks Park over on seventh, and he arrives.  I've never called him.  He calls me only from phone booths.  And he's always paid in cash."

Nick directed him to put the two lamps on, then to forget everything that happened and go to sleep.  Taking Tracy's arm, he led her back outside.

Tracy shuddered.  "I know he thought he was protecting me, but I can't believe that man is really my father," she said disgustedly.

Nick put an arm around her shoulders comfortingly.  "He isn't anymore, Trace.  Let's get back to the precinct."

She remained quiet.  Nick heard her yawn twice and decided to detour pass the Raven.  Maybe she should knock off early.  

LaCroix greeted them at the backdoor, a questioning look on his face.  

"She's kind of upset," Nick explained.  "We went to the Commissioner's place, and found out some things she'd rather not know."

"I told you never to see him again," LaCroix hissed, glowing red with anger.

"She didn't see him," Nick said firmly.  "I told her to shut her eyes."

For a tense moment, no one spoke.  LaCroix stared at his progeny.  Tracy was frightened of him, but also very upset.  Nicholas seemed defiant, almost daring him to fight.  Well, Nicholas must have felt it important to investigate the commissioner, and he had been told not to leave Tracy alone. He had obeyed the command, even if his attitude was a little cocky.  LaCroix touched Tracy's chin and brought her face up to look at him.  "Perhaps Toronto is not big enough for two Vetters?" he asked gently.

"Please don't kill him, sir," she asked softly.  "I know he's a crook, but I just don't feel right about it."

LaCroix brought her into his embrace and kissed the top of her head.  "Then perhaps he will take an early retirement and move someplace further south.  Where it is sunny?"

LaCroix observed his son's actions as he comforted Tracy.  A look of longing, and maybe jealousy, came to Nicholas.  LaCroix released Tracy and told her to go to bed.  Then turning to his son, he hesitated.  "Nicholas, I...."

Should he apologize?  He knew it was what the boy waited for.  He had been too harsh on him again, but damn it!  The boy always made him lose his temper.  800 years, and Nicholas was still so defiant and obstinate!  He would have to learn, or they would continue to battle one another.  He hardened his voice.  "Good night, Nicholas."

Nick swallowed the thickness in his throat.  LaCroix had been so tender with Tracy.  Why couldn't he be with him?  Did he love her more?  Because she was a girl?  Or she was younger?  Did she taste better?  But once again LaCroix was turning him away, and he would go and comfort her.  Nick blinked quickly, trying to summon up enough anger that he wouldn't humiliate himself. Turning sharply, he left the Raven, slamming the door behind him.





LaCroix found Tracy waiting for him in the living room, her anxiety level running high.  "You are afraid," he observed calmly.

She shifted on her feet awkwardly, reminding him at once of his obstinate son.  She stammered, trying to explain that she had meant to leave as soon as the commissioner returned, but then she heaved a sigh and faced him bravely.  "It's my fault.  I knew what you meant when you said not to see him again.  I'm sorry."

He considered her thoughtfully.  He had told her that disobedience would always be punished, and he always kept his word.  Yet, she was owning up to her mistake, not becoming obnoxious and belligerent, as Nicholas was wont to do.  "I believe that you have learned, my dear, and so I will overlook this infraction."

He felt her relief as a wash of elation that bubbled over into foolishness.  She lunged into his arms and kissed him gratefully, making him regret his moment of weakness already.  She was fairly bursting with enthusiasm that was most annoying.  "Perhaps you would like to spend an hour in the Raven tonight, to unwind before we begin our next lesson?"

"Cool!  Great!  Let's go!" she said.

"I will be in the soundbooth," he said, removing her arms from his neck.  "Do you think you can behave yourself in a bar crowded with vampires?"

"Sure," she said.  

"I will be keeping an eye on you.  Do not disappoint me."



Tracy decided to change quickly, pulling on a top that was much too revealing to ever wear to work.  It was a snug-fitting shirt that laced up the front.  She left the laces loose, baring her neck and much of her shoulders.  Then she bounded down the stairs and into the Raven.  

As a mortal, she had always thought it was too dark.  Now the lights were just comfortable.  Vachon's band was playing softly.  Patrick grinned at her and poured her a glass- still the pure uncut variety.  Tracy accepted it, wishing LaCroix would let her sample the bloodwine soon.  It wasn't like she was on duty or anything, and she'd turned the legal drinking age years ago.  

She took a table near the stage and smiled at Javier while he played.  Many of the vampires in the bar smiled at her, but no one came to talk.  She watched them, wondering if they were just afraid of LaCroix, or if she was not pleasing to them as a vampire.   The insecurities surprised her, reminding her of junior high.  Maybe, becoming a vampire was like being reborn in more ways than one.  

One waitress stopped briefly and refilled Tracy's glass, then left the bottle on the table with her.  Tracy looked at her questioningly.

"It is a gift," Rita explained.  "From the elder in the back corner."

"Uh, thanks.  I guess," she said awkwardly.  She tried to look around the bodies, but couldn't really see any elders.  Besides, she didn't want to meet them without LaCroix around.  Nick was afraid of anyone older than him, and she was beginning to respect his years of experience. 

She sipped the beverage, then her eyes widened with surprise.  It was very different!  It was sweeter, fruity, cut with wine.  She took a bigger sip, and her eyes smarted as she swallowed.  Her stomach lurched once, but the wine stayed down.  

Vachon took a break and came to join her.  "Querida," he whispered in her ear.  "What brings you here tonight?  You off for good behavior?"

Tracy giggled.  "I think I'm driving the old man crazy," she said conspiratorially.  

Vachon cocked an eyebrow at her.  "You aren't afraid he'll overhear you?"

"He's doing his show," she said, and swallowed more of the bloodwine.  It seemed stronger now than she'd ever recalled alcohol being before.  "And Nick's at work, so all my babysitters are busy.  Want to cuddle?" She snuggled close to him and nipped at his earlobes.

Vachon's fangs erupted at once, but he put firm hands on her and held her back.  "Tracy.  Not here, love."

"But I've missed you," she whispered, moving closer again.

Vachon got to his feet and took her hand.  Tracy grabbed her bottle as she followed him.  He slipped through the hallway towards the back and pulled her inside a small room.  Its purpose was lost on Tracy.  There was a window and a tacky couch, but little else.  If it was for storage, then the bar was drastically low on supplies.  

Vachon kicked the door closed and pulled her into his embrace.  Tracy forgot about everything then except her Spanish lover.  

By the time Vachon's band came banging on the door to demand he return to the stage, they had drained the bottle.  Vachon giggled, slightly inebriated, and staggered into the hallway.  "Later, Querida," he said, slurring his words slightly.  

Tracy waved at him; her arms felt heavy and clumsy.  She rolled to her knees and struggled to get up.  Maybe LaCroix wouldn't mind if she went up to bed early?  Her head was hurting.  How much alcohol was in one bottle of bloodwine?  She couldn't remember ever feeling this affected, even from the wapatuli parties in college.  

Once back in the bar, though, she slunk into her former chair and enjoyed the band.  The music seemed louder tonight, and freer.  Vachon smiled openly in her direction as he played and she had the sensation that he was playing just for her.  

The crowds shifted, most of the mortals had left.  She could see the elder vampires now, and the man was staring at her.  Tracy waved cheerfully, then decided she'd go thank him for the bottle.  Her legs didn't quite want to obey, though.  She tipped over a chair on her way, and when she reached them, she fell into his lap.  

"Hi there, Mister," she said loudly, her fangs fell into place as she grinned up at him.  "Aren't you good-looking.  I love a vampire with a beard.  Who's the mummy with with you?"

Corda jumped to her feet.  "Insolent whelp!  You go to far!"

Tracy laughed, looping an arm around Caspian's neck.  "Is she your master, mister?  Can't have a little fun?"

Caspian stood up then, dumping Tracy on the floor.  She sat for a moment, confused, before she struggled back to her feet.  Her head felt muzzy.  She couldn't sense these vampires, nor could she sense her master.  She yawned widely, wishing someone would put her to bed.  It was such a long way away.

Corda grabbed her by her shirt front and slammed her into a wall.  The music stopped.  All the patrons turned to watch the altercation.  Tracy cried out, as the sudden movement sliced her lip on her fangs.  Corda had her sharp teeth out as well, and it looked like the angry woman was going to bite her.  Tracy squirmed, trying to get free from her grasp.  The party was over, as far as she was concerned.  "LaCroix!" she cried.

LaCroix was there, seething with rage.  Tracy felt blood tears slip down her face.  She'd messed up again, somehow, and made him angry.  If only she could turn the clock back a few hours!  "Master, forgive me," she whispered.










Waltz in the Sky, 07a/14
By Lorelei Sieja

"What is the meaning of this," he demanded, a white-knuckled grasp of Corda's shoulder prohibiting her rape of his child.  

"Your offspring are incorrigible," Corda shouted.

His hand shot out.  Tracy blinked, and would have ducked if she could have moved.  But he didn't strike her.  Instead, he flicked one of her tears with a finger and tasted it.  "Bloodwine," he stated.  "Where did you get this, Tracy!"

"It was a... a gift, from him," she stuttered.  Her head hurt.  

"You give an infant wine, then dare to complain when she acts like a fool!  Get out of my club!  Now!"

Corda glared at him.  Caspian was carefully expressionless as he looked from his sister to his one-time friend.  He tugged on Corda's sleeve, but she didn't move.  He put both hands on her shoulders then and shook her firmly.  "It is time to go," he said.  

Corda tightened her hold on Tracy, leaving bruises on her shoulders, then released her.  Tracy's knees gave out and she would have fallen, but LaCroix caught her.  His arms felt strong and protective.  She laid her head against his shoulder, wondering if she closed her eyes if the spinning would be better or worse.  

LaCroix stared at at the door until Caspian and Corda were gone.  Then he turned to the band.  "I don't pay you to gawk.  The side show's over, everyone."

Vachon started another song, and slowly, Tracy heard the muffled noises of a dozen conversations.  LaCroix carried her up the dark stairs to his apartment.

"I'm sorry, dad," she cried, the tears flowing again.  "I don't know what happened.  I'm so sorry!"

He carried her into her room.  He pulled the covers down and laid her in her bed.  

"You aren't mad at me?  Aren't you going to punish me?"

LaCroix chuckled.  "My dear, my anger was with Caspian, not you.  And you will punish yourself enough in the morning.  Now get some sleep."

Tracy sat up, although the motion nearly made her upchuck.  "I'm really sorry," she whispered.

His chin lifted in acknowledgement.  "Good day, Tracy."


The following afternoon Tracy understood fully what LaCroix had meant.  Her head was splitting, and she spent half an hour in the bathroom vomitting up the wine.  She felt like crying, but was too weak to spare the tears.  There was no way she could go in to work feeling like this!  
A knock sounded at the door, then LaCroix stepped inside the tiny, immaculate, seldom-used washroom.  Tracy winced at the noise he made, but dared not complain.  

"Come, child.  Have something to drink," he said, offering her a glass.

Tracy leaned into the stool, as her stomach threatened again.  "You have got to be kidding," she groaned.

"No, Tracy.  The blood could not heal you until you had rid yourself of the excess wine.  Now, it should make you well.  Come, drink up."

Gingerly, she accepted the glass and forced herself to sip it.  Her stomach hurt like a bleeding ulcer, but the blood soothed.  She drained the glass, then ventured a timid glance at her master.

LaCroix looked neat as always and slightly amused.  No one should look that good first thing in the morning... or afternoon, or whatever hell the time of day it was.  

He held out a hand and she accepted it, as he pulled her to her feet.  She followed him to the kitchen, where he refilled her glass.  He sat and joined her in their breakfast.  

"Why did it make me so drunk?" she asked.  "I've had alcohol before."

"Blood is our only food," LaCroix explained patiently.  "Nothing else can be tolerated.  We have no digestive enzymes, so when we consume anything other than blood, it is like poison.  Mature vampires can tolerate wine mixed with blood only in small amounts, and fledglings cannot tolerate it at all."

Tracy was silent as she listened.  Again she realized that when she had thought that he was being merely bossy and overprotective, he had, in fact, been wise and absolutely correct.  She would take his wishes more seriously in the future.  

"So, why would those older vampires want to get me drunk?"

LaCroix was silent for a time.  Tracy wondered if he was going to answer.  Then he seemed to come to a decision.  "They are angry with me, and seek to hurt me through hurting my progeny."

"Why are they mad at you?"

"It is a long story, my dear," he began, moving with her towards the couch.  He sat in the corner, one leg folded across the other, and she curled up beside him, leaning against his chest.  He wrapped one arm around her companionably.

She waited, hoping to hear the story.  She'd gathered from the first meeting, before she knew anything about LaCroix, that he wasn't much of a sharer.  She would encourage any intimate moment and treasure it.

"I staked one of their siblings a long time ago, and they have never forgiven me," he said.

She waited.  There had to be more to the story than that.  "Why did you stake him?"

He hesitated, seeming to war with himself on how much to tell.  Then he told her all.  "He assaulted Nicholas, when he was still a young fledgling.  I killed him in a rage.  Killing another vampire is a serious thing.  Caspian and Corda brought me before the Council."

"But surely you had every right to defend Nick!" she blurted, looking up at him.

His eyes were distant.  He was no longer quite in this century, but reliving a past, painful one.  Tracy fell silent and waited expectantly.

"The rights of fledglings were negligible then.  The rape of a fledgling was not sufficient cause to kill an elder.  I defended my case before the judges, and Caspian was only accorded the right of retribution.  He could not take my life.

"So, when you got out of line downstairs, I think he saw his chance to get even.  I, however, believe that the death of his brother has already been duly recompensed and could see no reason to punish you."
 
"Am I safe now?" she whispered, afraid of the answer.

His arm tightened around her protectively.  "I hope so, little one.  But I do not want you alone, away from either Nicholas or myself.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," she replied.

LaCroix then made love to her.  Slowly, tenderly, he made her feel treasured.  And when she sank her fangs into his throat, he allowed the memories of his beating at Caspian and Corda's hands to cross over in his blood.  It was not his intention to gain her sympathy, but only to show her how dangerous her new community could be.  If his suffering would save her from her own foolishness, then the intimacy was well shared.

Later, LaCroix took her hand and lead her on to the roof.  "My dear," he began.  There was a surprising tenderness to his voice that made her legs weak and her undead heart flutter.  "I believe you are ready to begin flying lessons."

Tracy shrieked with glee.  Bouncing on her toes, she threw her arms around him impulsively and kissed both cheeks.  "Thank you thank you thank you!" she spurted.

LaCroix tugged her arms free and tried to force a stern look, but his lips curled in amusement.  "Control yourself, child," he chided.

Tracy stood straight at attention, eager to learn.  "Yes, sir!"

Putting an arm around her shoulders, LaCroix drew her close and gestured towards the moon.  "That is the source of light in our world.  Close your eyes; feel it on your face.  The light is cool and safe; it will never harm you, for it is not real.  It is a mere reflection of the sun's dangerous rays.  But the moon is much more to us than light.  It is almost our god.  Our ancient ones claimed it is the source of our power.  Tradition claims that Lilith, wife of Cain, refused to share in his banishment.  She forsook him, turned against both God and Devil, and mated with the moon.  She was born into a new existence, and became mother of all the creatures of the night, but the vampires were her firstborn and her favorite."

"There are others?" Tracy whispered.  She was enjoying the story, and didn't want to interrupt the magical spell he wove around her.

"Many others.  Carouche, werewolves... lesser beings than ourselves.  No one really believes the tales of our origins, anymore than they believe either the myths of Adam and Eve or monkeys becoming men.  But that is beside the point.  I have always felt an attraction to the moon.  When frustrations mount and troubles are many, a flight before the face of the moon has always comforted."

Tracy closed her eyes again and leaned against her master.  She felt the soothing balm of his voice, the faint warmth of the cool moon's glow, and peace filled her.  She felt LaCroix's presence in her thoughts.  Without words, he was instructing her.  She relaxed, letting him fill her.  Thoughts, sensations, closeness, weightlessness.  Then, he spoke aloud.

"Tracy, open your eyes."

When she did, she screamed.  The Raven was far below them.

She felt herself fall, but LaCroix was there to catch her.  He smiled as she clung to him fearfully.  

'Relax.  Remember.  Let my thoughts instruct you.'  LaCroix's gentle coaching reminded her, and then she was flying.  He held only her hand now, as she flew beside him.  Higher, towards the moon, then they leveled off and flew to the edge of the city and out over the lake.
 "You will practice your landings over water, my dear," LaCroix informed her.  "They can be rather tricky at first.  If you lose control and plunge earthward, the water will break the impact.  If you control yourself, just above the water's surface, you may fly towards dry land."

Tracy was attentive.  It sounded so easy.  But she splashed into the ice-cold water of Lake Ontario again and again.  Being a vampire, she wasn't really susceptible to the cold.  She didn't shiver, and hypothermia was not a concern, but the cold, wet clothing was very uncomfortable on her sensitive skin.  She was getting angry, and her crash landings were coming more frequently.

"Enough," LaCroix called. 

"I can do this!" she snapped.  "Just let me try again!"

end, part 7a.




Waltz in the Sky, 07b/14
By Lorelei Sieja




He took her by the shoulders with a firm grasp.  Tracy's heart fluttered, but she saw no anger in his face at her disrespectful tone.

"I know you can do it, Tracy.  But the night is over."

He gestured towards the faint light on the horizon.  Tracy had never stayed up this late before in all her undead life.  LaCroix took her hand and together they flew back towards the Raven, where he held her close and landed safely.  

On the rooftop Tracy hugged him again.  "Thanks, dad.  This was really fun.  Can we do it again tonight?"

"Perhaps," he said, returning her embrace.  "Although there are many things to learn, and this is but one.  It is also tiring.  Whenever you fly, you greatly increase your need to feed.  I need your solemn promise not to practice this skill alone.  Plunging earthward can be very dangerous for a fledgling.  Your ability to heal is not as developed."

"I promise," she said.  "And I understand now why you waited so long.  I can sense you much better now than even last week.  There aren't words to describe what you taught me through the link.  I couldn't have learned it before."

He smiled his assent.  "Now that you have managed to soak my clothing as well, shall we step inside and change?"

Tracy grinned.  She was very hungry, and suddenly she couldn't seem to stop yawning.  It had been such an eventful night.  She couldn't wait to tell Nick her news!

LaCroix followed her to bed and let her feed from him again.  He said it was to revive her after the arduous flight lessons, but she sensed it was something more.  He seemed lonely.  Although his actions were satisfying, the passion was missing.  It was so different from just last week, when he had taken both her and Nick.  She realized then that it was Nick.  Strangely, she didn't feel jealous.  She knew LaCroix loved her.  But he was missing his son, as he had done so much in this century, and Tracy resolved that she must see their cold war brought to an end at any cost.



That evening she and LaCroix had their meal together, as was now their custom, waiting until they felt Nick's arrival.  LaCroix always felt him first, but Tracy was learning to recognize him as well.  She drank heartily, having awakened with a major appetite.  Two more shifts, and then she'd have two days off.  She might have to wait until then to work on Nick.  But how could she stay at the loft without hurting LaCroix's feelings?  And with Urs there, maybe she wouldn't be successful?  She could stay with Vachon, but how then would she get Nick to realize that he must make amends with his master?

"I was wondering," Tracy said, thinking aloud.  "About this weekend.  The city is so tiring- all those sights and sounds and trying to block them out all the time.  Could I go away somewhere?  Out in the country?"

LaCroix thought a moment before speaking.  "Nicholas owns a small cottage."  He seemed hesitant to say more.  

LaCroix wouldn't ask Nick to use it, since they weren't speaking yet.  Tracy suffered for him, but maybe she could help.  "That would be great," she said, forcing a cheerfulness into her voice.  "Maybe Nick, Vachon, Urs and I can all head up there together.  Would that be okay?"

He scowled and looked almost angry.  "I gave you permission to spend two days a week with whomever you choose," he snapped.  He stood and walked away from her.

Tracy wanted to comfort him, but knew that would be the wrong thing to do.  Straining to keep her tone light and bubbly, that he would not suspect her ulterior motives, she rambled on.  "And it might give you a chance to see Natalie, since you won't have to worry about me." 

There it happened again!  She heard his heart beat at the mention of Natalie's name!  He cared for her!  Tracy turned to grab her coat while she struggled to hide the knowing smile.

"You may present your intentions to Nicholas and seek his approval," LaCroix said.  "You have mine."




"I can't believe it is finally Friday night," Tracy stated with relief as she climbed inside the caddy.  

"I know what you mean," Nick breathed.  He hadn't made any plans for the weekend yet, but doing anything besides chasing the deadends after Jacobs' killer had to be an improvement. 
 
"LaCroix says you have a cottage somewhere," she said.

Nick scowled.  So he knew about it?  Well, maybe he didn't know where it was, yet.  

"And I was wondering if you'd take me there this weekend?  And maybe Vachon and Urs, too.  I've got to get out of here, and LaCroix says I can go.  Please, Nick?"  She begged harder, as she sensed his lack of enthusiasm.  

Nick glared at her, but couldn't keep an angry face.  She was such an imp at times.  "We'll see," he hedged.

"That's great!  Oh, it will be great, you'll see!"  She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.  The car swerved wildly before he could get it back under control.  

"I didn't promise anything," he warned her.

"It's okay," she agreed.  

Nick shook his head.  She only heard what she wanted to hear.  Women!  
He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine.  "I'm going to meet this Turk later," Nick announced.  "I'll drop you back at the Raven before I go."

Tracy shrugged.  "That's fine.  I should pack a few things for the weekend."

He rolled his eyes as he got out of the car.  "I can see why he wants to get rid of you for a couple of nights," he groaned, teasing her.  


Back at their desks Tracy fidgeted endlessly.  The constant gossiping among the other officers was getting annoying.  She'd known it had existed before, but it was different now, being able to hear things she was never meant to hear.  

"Ignore them," Nick advised under his breath.

"Easier said than done."  She heaved a sigh.

A wicked grin split his face. "I think it's time to give the rumor mills something new," he whispered, his eyes sparking with mischief.
Tracy grinned.  He was so moody so much of the time that this was a side of him she didn't often see.  "Okay.  How?"

Nick lifted the phone and punched in a number.  Tracy grinned as she recognized Urs's voice.  

"Hi, Urs," Nick said softly.  "I need a favor.  We're going to my cabin for the weekend.  Will you and Vachon meet us here at the precinct about four-thirty?  And, wear something... leather," Nick said, his voice low and sultry.   "We should allow two hours to get there before dawn."

Tracy clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream of delight. 
 
"No Urs, Tracy's fine," Nick said.  Urs had heard her muffled scream, even though the mortals in the room had not.  "She's just hyperventilating.  Yes, that'd be great.  Bye, love."

Tracy uncovered her mouth. "What's great?  Oh, Nick, this is going to be so much fun.  I can't wait.  What's your cabin like?"

Reese cleared his throat.  "Ah, do you two still work here?"

"Yes, Captain," Nick and Tracy answered in unison.

He stared at them curiously.  Something had changed in their relationship.  He'd been hoping Nick would be able to adjust to a new partner after losing his last one so tragically, but Reese had been about to give up hope.  Now, suddenly, they were thinking alike, answering alike, hell, they were even starting to look alike.  If he hadn't already known Commissioner Vetter and Mr. LaCroix, he would have suspected that Nick and Tracy shared some genes.  

"Well, good," Reese said then, as he saw their expectant faces.  "Then go take a look at this body."

Tracy accepted the report while Nick grabbed his coat.  "We're on our way," they answered in unison.  Reese just shook his head at their retreating forms.  

End, part 7.




Waltz in the Sky, 08a/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Natalie smiled at them.  "I was wondering when you two were going to get here," she said lightly.  

Nick shrugged, but Tracy moved closer to whisper conspiratorially in Nat's ear.  "He wouldn't let me out of the car until I'd fed well," she confessed.

"Well it's a good thing, too.  It's pretty messy," the coroner warned.

Nick stepped protectively between Tracy and the body then, before lifting the drape.  A woman around forty years old lay on the carpeting, gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen.  The blood was cold.  It didn't affect him at all, but he could hear Tracy behind him.  Her breathing accelerated.  It was the sense of adventure, of the hunt, he suspected, and she wasn't even aware of it yet.  He dropped the drape and moved closer to Tracy.  

"Was she married?" Tracy asked.

Nat nodded, but a uniformed officer answered.  "Not really- they were separated a year ago."

"So, we look for the estranged husband," Tracy said, glancing at Nick. 

Nick moved away from the body to examine the room.  Already a team was dusting for prints and cataloging everything.  Nick didn't interfere with them.  Anything they found would be in their report.  He looked for things they might not see, using senses they didn't possess.

"So where's her dog?" he asked.

"Dog?" several others asked.  "Did you know her?  What makes you think she had a dog?"

Nick thought fast as he looked around.  He couldn't say because he'd smelled it's presence, or they'd be calling him "bloodhound" for months, which was definitely worse than "knightmare".   His eyes fell on a plate on the kitchen floor.  It had been licked clean, but the noxious scent of dog food clung to the dish.  He pointed at it.  "Because she's got a dog."

Tracy pulled open a few cupboards, but there was very little in the way of food fit for consumption- dog or human.  Then she peeked into the trash and pulled out a small empty can of a name-brand dog food.  "Nick's right.  And I'd guess it was a little dog.  But either she was planning on moving out, or she didn't have much money.  These cupboards are pretty bare.  With winter coming, most women tend to stock up."

They spent another half-hour going through the room, then Nick decided it was time to take Tracy home so he could keep his appointment at the park.

The park was empty this hour of night at this time of year.  It was a smaller park, and the neighborhood had changed.  Once it had been apartments and children, now it was mostly abandoned buildings and warehouses.  Now only cats dug in the sandbox.  Most of the swings were broken; their chains dangled uselessly or were wrapped around the top bar.  There was a single streetlight over the parking lot, but the remainder of the park was dark and neglected, just like the neighborhood.

He waited inside the car, trying to shield himself from the presence of other vampires.  It was something he was not very good at, but with younger vampires especially he could succeed.  He still hadn't decided if he thought Turk was a young one, or an older one just setting him up.  

For over an hour he waited, then he felt the tingle as another vampire approached.  No cars drove up.  This vampire was flying in.  Nick growled angrily, as he waited for him to arrive.  

Just on the other side of the playground, beyond a mortal's ability to see, the vampire landed.  Nick got out the car and closed the door.  Then in less than an eye-blink, he slammed the other vampire into the trunk of a tree.  The tree shuddered at the impact.  The young vampire gasped, his eyes golden with his surprise.

"You must be "Turk"," Nick hissed.  

The vampire stuttered.  Nick tossed him across the playground, flew over to haul him to his feet and flung him again.  The younger one was thoroughly intimidated.  "Stop, please stop," he begged fearfully.

Nick pulled on his coat front until his feet lifted off the ground and held him in the air.  "Who are you!  Where is your master!"

The vampire trembled and his speech was unintelligible.  Nick shook him and demanded an answer, but that only further frightened him.  Realizing the young vampire was not going to be capable of resisting him, Nick released him and let him drop to the ground.

The vampire remained there, bringing his arms up protectively and begging him for mercy.

"Answer me!" Nick demanded.

"T-t-t-Trevor!  Trevor Ulrick Kincaid, -- Turk for short," he cried.  "Why?  What do you want?"  

"You've been killing mortals," Nick accused, "and leaving around the evidence!"

Turk shook his head.  "No, sir whoever you are, I didn't.  I clean up good.  I never left anything for 'em to find, honest!"

"What about Alvin Jacobs?"

Red tears leaked from Turk's eyes.  Nick felt awful.  He was acting like LaCroix, and the realization disgusted him.  He reached out to offer Turk a hand but the vampire shrank away from him fearfully.  Stifling a growl, Nick reached again and hauled him to his feet.  He observed the other carefully.

Turk was 20-20.  Twenty years old by both mortal and vampire age.  He had red-brown hair, green eyes when they weren't filled with red tears or amber lights, and a childish dimple in one cheek that winked in and out of sight when he spoke.  He was shorter than Nick by nearly a head, but broad shouldered.  He might have played high school football as a mortal, but he didn't seem like he'd have made the team in college.  

Now his stomach rumbled hungrily, and the amber lights of his eyes further announced his discomfort.  Nick reached out with his senses and guessed the young Turk had not had a full meal in several weeks.  Had Alvin Jacobs been an act of desperation?  Nick could remember going hungry in centuries past, and how LaCroix would feed him his own ancient blood when the pain was too severe.  But now, with bloodmobiles and places like the Raven, vampires should not have to suffer any more, even though modern technology also made their life more difficult.  

"Where is your master," he asked again, this time controlling the volume of his voice.

Turk lowered his eyes and his shoulders slumped.  "She's dead.  Of the Fever."

"How did you survive?" Nick asked then.  Natalie had made the antidote and the vampires helped to distribute it around, giving it out to masters to treat their children.  But Nick hadn't known this Turk, and no one at the Raven seemed to know him either.  

"When she first heard about the fever, she locked me up, kept me safe.  She filled the room with bottles, then went away, promising she'd come for me.  But she must have died.  I stayed in there for weeks, until everything was gone, and I was near crazy with hunger.  I don't know where I found the strength, but I tore my prison apart and escaped."

"Her name," Nick insisted.  Turk responded better, now that Nick wasn't terrorizing him, but his hunger was blocking his ability to concentrate.  Nick took his arm and led him towards the caddy.  He still had a bottle tucked under the seat for Tracy.  It would be a drop in the bucket for this starved infant, but it was a start.  

"Auriel," he whispered.  Nick heard the pain in his voice.  Being an orphan was painful for a vampire.  The instinctive longing for a master drove some mad after a while.  

"Auriel," Nick repeated.  The golden one.  Her loss was a tragedy.  Nick had met her, even danced a few dances with her, over the centuries.  He wasn't sure of her age, only that she'd been older than him and younger than LaCroix.  Auriel was an unusual name, often used for Roman Slaves, and although he'd never been told, Nick had guessed that was her mortal origins. She'd been a different master, taking in children one at a time, loving them, training them, then granting them freedom.  She never kept them like LaCroix did.  Still, locking Turk up at the time of the fever had probably saved his life.  

Nick pulled the bottle out from the caddy and handed it to the infant.  He waited while Turk pulled the cork and drained it instantly.  "So you've been orphaned for about three months," Nick guessed.  "And you took up life as a hitman."

Turk nodded.  "It seemed like a good idea.  I get to hunt, and feed, and I get rent money, too."

"Well, it's a terrible idea," Nick snapped, and Turk flinched.  "I know Auriel must have warned you how we must maintain the secret of our existence.  Now Alvin Jacobs' body lies in a mortal's morgue, with vampire bites on his neck, and you are in pretty deep trouble."

"But I didn't kill him," Turk exclaimed.  "Honest!  I didn't!"

"You were heard in a conversation with Commissioner Vetter.  He paid you to kill Jacobs.  Don't deny it!"

"I took the money," Turk cried.  "And I was going to kill him.  But, somebody beat me to it!  He was missing, and his body turned up dead before I had a chance to do it.  But Vetter thought I'd killed him, and I needed the money.  I'll give it back, if that's what you want, but I spent some of it, I can't give it all back."

"You didn't kill Jacobs," Nick stated flatly.

Turk shook his head.  

Nick needed to know for certain.  And the infant was still starving.  He hesitated only a few moments before opening the buttons at his throat.  For years he had denied himself to share vampire blood, but now, it seemed he craved it.  It felt natural to offer to feed the infant, even while satisfying his need to know the truth.  He took Turk and pulled him close, offering the infant his throat.

Turk trembled fearfully, but he licked at Nick's neck, bringing the vein beneath the skin closer to the surface as Nick's blood quickened at the erotic gesture.  Then the infant's teeth plunged into him and he sucked hungrily.  

Nick held him close and waited, feeding the infant before he returned the bite.  Turk's blood slowly filled his mouth.  He tasted the hunger and loneliness, the desperate need to please and to belong to someone.  Turk was innocent of the Jacobs murder.  He had killed two mortals over a span of two months, both at the request of the Commissioner, and he'd received less than two months rent for his efforts.  The commissioner was paying slaves' wages; no other hitman in the country would have done it for that.  Nick pulled out of Turk, but held the infant a few moments longer before pulling him away.  

The infant seemed embarrassed.  The blood exchange was always so intimate, so sexual, and the infant had not fed from any other except his master before.  "It is our way," Nick explained.  Although, it was a way he had denied himself for so long.  But no more.  

"What's going to happen to me?" Turk whispered.

Nick pulled open the door on the passenger side and shoved Turk inside before climbing behind the wheel.  "No more killing mortals.  I'm taking you to the Raven.  You can stay there until we find a new master to adopt you.  You will not be allowed to remain unclaimed until your training is complete."

"You aren't still angry with me?"

"No," Nick answered gruffly.  Turk was young and ignorant, but not evil.  Janette would have taken him in and loved him.  How Nick missed her!  He would do all he could to find this stray a home, in honor of her.  



The Raven was crowded with mortals celebrating what they called "TGIF", but there was a fair crowd of vampires as well.  Nick brought Turk to the bar and spoke to Patrick.  "Give him all he can drink of the uncut stock, and put it on LaCroix's bill."  

Patrick nodded knowingly.  The ancient was not philanthropic, but Janette had demanded that he provide for strays.  Nick had just informed Patrick that this was a stray, under protection from Janette's phantom presence; LaCroix would care for him, whether he liked it or not.

"After you've had your fill, I'll show you where you can bunk down tonight," Patrick said to Turk.  

Turk turned fearful eyes to Nick.  "Are you leaving me?"

Nick nodded.  He was not going to adopt this one.  Tracy was more than he could handle at the moment, and she was only his part-time.  This one would drive him crazy quickly.  "I still must find the one who killed Jacobs," he explained.  "You will be safe here.  And I will find you a home."

"Thank you," Turk said sincerely.

End, 8a.




Waltz in the Sky, 08b
By Lorelei Sieja


Nick felt Tracy's approach.  He moved towards the back of the bar to greet her at the foot of the stairs.  She carried a small bag over her shoulder, and LaCroix kissed her lightly before turning to sneer at the new stray at the bar.

"Have you been demoted from detective to dogcatcher?" he asked scornfully.

Nick grit his teeth but refused to be baited into another fight.  "His master, Auriel, died in the Fever.  He needs a home," Nick answered.

LaCroix's eyes closed at the mention of her name.  Nick sensed his grief, and wondered how well he had known her.  

"That is unfortunate," LaCroix said, his voice strangely husky.  "Run along then."  And he escaped inside his soundbooth.

Nick led Tracy back to the caddy and returned to the precinct.  The shift was nearly over, and they were no closer to closing the case than they had been a week ago.  Damned frustrating.  Maybe after two days off, not thinking about it at all, he could come back at it with a new perspective.  Maybe the cottage would be the perfect place to unwind....



A little after four, Nick knocked on Reese's door.  "Uh, Captain?  Here are my reports, and I was wondering.  Would it be all right to knock off a little early?  I wanted to get out of town for the weekend, and I'd like to arrive before sunrise."

"What about you're partner?" Reese asked.  Nick had certainly earned a little leniency- he'd put in six years with the force already, and most of his sick leave had been taken only in the last few months.  But Tracy would not be allowed to work alone.

"Um, I'm taking her with me," Nick hedged.

Reese stared at him hard.  He still didn't believe the rumors going around, and Nick wasn't blushing.  "Yes, go," he growled good-naturedly.  "Get out of here."

Tracy didn't have to ask Nick the verdict.  She cleared off her desk with growing excitement.  

"Hey, Baby, calm down before you burst something," Nick whispered softly, but not soft enough.  Several officers heard his new nickname for her and took it to be a term of endearment.  Tracy was about to say something, when she felt Vachon's approach.  Nick restrained her with an arm around her shoulder, before she could fly off to greet him.  

Vachon entered the precinct, his usual scruffy-looking self in black leather, but Urs looked fantastic.  Lusciously wrapped in sensual innocence and black leather, she was turning heads everywhere.  Vachon had his arm around her in a way that was acceptable between masters and children, but the mortals stared wondering what the knightmare was going to do to that guy flirting with his girl....  Nick just moved to greet them with his arm still draped around Tracy.  Then they made a show of trading partners, and arm-in-arm, they left, unable to hear any gossip at all, as the mortals were speechless.



"I say we take the caddy," Nick insisted.  "There's more room in the trunk for cargo."

"You always drive," Vachon argued.  "I say we take the bikes, and take less luggage."

Urs smiled at Tracy.  Men.  The bikes were fun, being in the open, the wind in her hair, the daring, the small thrill at the imagined sense of danger.  The caddy would be fun for Tracy, since Nick would insist on driving and she and Vachon could have the back seat.  "Does my opinion count?" she asked innocently, smiling up at her lover.

The men glared at each other before looking at her.  "Of course," they said.  

"I would prefer the bikes, this time," she replied, feeling she had let Nick down.

"Me too," Tracy agreed.  

Nick shrugged.  "Fine.  The bikes.  But ladies, this is the size of the saddlebags.  That is all you bring."

It didn't take long to make the final decisions.  Except for Nick, none of them had been to the cottage before.  He assured them that there was a sufficient supply in the refrigerator and the cottage was fully equipped with bedding, towels, even some spare clothing.  He hadn't been there in almost a year, though, and it might not be very tidy.  Urs, being a practical sort, packed soap and some new CDs.  Tracy packed games.  Neither one of them thought clothing would be important.

When Nick straddled his bike, all thoughts of his caddy were gone.  It was as if he had peeled back another layer of the veneer in which he cloaked himself, and they were able to meet him on another, more intimate level.  He was younger, daring, and wild.  Urs climbed on the seat behind and hugged him.  Revving the engine, Nick grinned at Vachon wickedly. 

"It's a good thing you're carrying Baby," he said, "or I might just lose you on the way!"

"Ha-ha," Tracy complained at his new nickname for her.  She wasn't sure if it was better than "Button" or not.

"If you think you can outride me, Knight, you're sadly mistaken," Vachon challenged.  And they set off, breaking every speed limit they passed by almost double.







Natalie sighed as she finished the autopsy on Professor Dubois.  He had died of a heart attack, possibly brought on by thieves that were in his house.  The perpetrators were guilty of breaking and entering, but not murder.  In fact, no one knew who had put the call in to 911, but it must have been the thieves, themselves.  Poor Dubois.  He wasn't very old, but poor diet, high stress and too much cholesterol killed him at the age of 45.  Not that much older than her, she realized with fright.  Life's a bitch, she muttered.

"And then there is unlife," LaCroix said gently, enjoying the way she jumped when he startled her.

"Why do you guys always have to do that!" she snapped.

He smiled and offered her a light shrug.  "Because we can."

Natalie stared at him for long moments, awkward in the silence and unsure how to break it.  A few weeks ago she would have snapped at him, and they would have had a verbal conflict, and then he would be gone, leaving her breathless and confused.  She was willing to jump to the breathless part and leave everything else out.

"So how are you tonight," she stammered.  It sounded really dumb.  Vampires were never sick, they never aged, nothing really hurt them.  How else would he be but the same as he was last night?  And all the nights before?

Only, LaCroix wasn't laughing at her.  His patrician features were smooth, neither contorted with rage nor mirth, but something about the eyes was different.  A loneliness, perhaps, that she'd not noticed before.  She was probably wrong, reading mortal feelings into this unmortal being.

"Nicholas has taken Tracy to his cottage for the weekend.  She was finding the constant stimuli of the city overwhelming.  It is strange, that without her constant presence replete with annoying habits, my apartment seems a bit empty."

"You miss them, huh," Natalie surmised.

"I believe that is what I just said," LaCroix replied with the touch of that aristocratic snobbishness that she associated with him.  

She smiled.  "So, you came over to the neighborhood morgue for a bit of entertainment?"

His eyes widened with surprise.  She had ruffled that cool exterior!  This was something to remember!  

He stammered.  "No, that was not my intention."  

Natalie watched as he backed away from her, and feared he would leave without saying whatever it was he had come here to say.  If she didn't act soon, he would be gone.  And maybe forever.  She knew that guilt or honor would not hold LaCroix here, as it did Nick.  Did she want him to stay? 

She closed the gap between them.  "Is there something you wanted?" she asked.

He grew very stern.  "I came to ask if you would like to attend the concert with me tomorrow evening."

"I'd love to," she said quickly, against her better judgement.

The sternness left at once.  A smile touched his eyes, even if it didn't quite reach his lips.  "The concert begins at 8.  I will come for you by 7:30."

She nodded her agreement, too stunned to speak at the moment.  Then he left as silently as he had arrived.  

What was she getting herself in to?  She sure had strange tastes in men!  The only mortal date she'd had in the past few years had been a rapist murderer.  The others had all been vampires.  Nick, of course, and one near-fatal date with Spark, and now LaCroix.  "Girl, you have to go out more," she chided herself.










Waltz in the Sky, 09a/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Nick didn't know how Tracy managed to nap on the motorcycle, with the crazy way Vachon drove.  He hit every pothole he saw, thrilling at the moments the bike became airborne.   Nick rode too fast, too, not even letting the speeding ticket he'd received alter him much, but he wasn't reckless.  And after a time, he didn't want the trip to ever end.  Urs was cuddled up close behind him.  He could feel her pressed against his back, her breath on his neck, the Harley Davidson motor rumbling between his legs.  Life didn't get much better.

Still, the faint pink on the horizon made them push even harder.  He didn't want to have to ditch their bikes and fly the rest of the way.  The last roads were gravel- keeping up a speed of 170 kph would not be possible.  At least LaCroix wouldn't be worried about Tracy.  He, like Nick, had assumed that there was plenty of time to reach the cottage before dawn.  Neither of them had remembered how long women take to pack and get ready, even for anything as short as an overnight trip.

Finally the woods parted to reveal the little rustic hideaway.  Nick didn't come here often.  He had bought it three years ago, when LaCroix had found him again, suspecting that he might need a safe haven from time to time.  He didn't think LaCroix knew its whereabouts.  If he did, at least he had respected Nick's need for this small privacy.  

It wasn't much.  A small, three bedroom log cabin, the kind that was made from a kit.  The workmanship was less than stellar, as Nick had done much of it himself.  The kitchen was still unfinished.  It had a refrigerator and microwave, but no stove, although a small dishwasher had been installed on his last visit.  The appliances were neutral colored, unlike the black of his loft.  This place was meant to be different.  It was not a 'home away from home' but rather, another life.  

The walls were a light pine color, the carpet a matching beige called "winter wheat".  It had huge windows along the northern wall of the living room, where he could see the forest and the stars from the couch.  There was no television set.  The reception out here would have been poor anyway.  He did have a small stereo CD player.  There was a cast-iron fireplace, but it was still unused.  He'd never brought a mortal here to need the warmth, and the few times he had hidden here, he had not felt up to the comforting sounds of a fire.

Two of the bedrooms were downstairs, behind the living room.  They were smaller and adequate, with full-sized beds and dressers.  But upstairs was his room.  

It was a loft bedroom, which had always appealed to him.  There were skylights in the steeply pitched roof that gave him a view of the night sky from his bed.  The oversized mattress was round, and made up with satin sheets with a velvet spread and dozens of pillows.  He had taken great pains to make the bedroom comfortable and luxurious as he had hoped one day to bring Janette here.  However, his sister's tastes had always been more aristocratic.  She would not enjoy a single day in this rustic cabin in the woods.

Urs and Vachon walked around the lower level and smiled their appreciation.  Tracy stood still in the doorway, her eyes more closed than opened.

Nick brought in the saddlebags from his bike and urged Vachon to do the same, before flying through the cabin to make certain all the shades were drawn.  He didn't have them on remotes here.  He hadn't even had electricity brought in.  He had a small generator for emergencies, and solar powered battery cells for general use.  There were only a few electric lights; mostly he just used candles.  His thought was to keep this place secret- and bringing in power meant creating a paper trail of utility bills that could be traced.  

Being secretive now didn't seem so important.  When Tracy had first asked to come, he had hesitated.  Once she knew where it was, LaCroix would soon know as well.  Still, they would enjoy this weekend retreat, and then maybe he would sell the cabin.

"Tracy, do you want to drink something before going to bed," Nick asked, nudging his sleepwalking baby sister.

"Yeah," she murmured.

Urs took a bottle out of the fridge and smiled at him curiously.  It was not Nick's usual bovine product.  He shrugged sheepishly and accepted the glass she offered.  

Tracy ignored the glass Vachon held out to her, taking instead an entire bottle and draining it instantly.  It had the effect of waking her up.  "This is really great, Nick!  If I had a place like this, I think I'd come here every chance I got!  This is so cool!  Will you build a fire?"

Nick rolled his eyes at Urs.  This was the enthusiastic "perky" mode he had told her about.  With a playful smirk, he answered Tracy.  "Why, Baby?  Are you cold?"

She was too happy to notice the patronizing tone.  "No.  I just love the sound and smell it makes.  Please, please!"

Nick humored her.  He had a large pile of firewood stacked just outside, and a basket of pinecones for kindling.  Before long the pungent aroma of hot pinesap permeated the air.

Vachon yawned.  Dawn was almost upon them.  It seemed to him that it was bedtime, not build a fire and party time, but Tracy had other ideas.  Rifling through her small bag, she came up with a deck of cards.  She plopped down on the floor in front of the couch and shuffled the deck like a casino gambler. 

"Poker, anyone?"  She smiled her best innocent-look, which might even have rivaled Nick's.

"Do you know how to play?" asked Urs.

Vachon snorted.  "What are the stakes, Baby?"  

She batted her eyelashes at him, not taking offense at his use of Nick's new nickname.  Nick kept silent.  He thought he was watching a con-artist at work, and suspected that she knew very well how to play.  Just in case, he wasn't going to take off his jacket, although the others already had.

"I thought a game of strip poker might be fun, before bed," she suggested.  "It shouldn't take long.  You know I probably can't stay awake much longer."

Now Nick was certain it was a snow job.  She'd napped on the trip.  

Vachon grinned.  "Count me in."

Urs sat on Tracy's left and Vachon on her right.  "Come on, Nick.  Even you have to know this game," Tracy urged.

Nick shrugged.  "I've played a little."  He sat across from Tracy, giving her the innocent-look back.  

She offered Vachon the cut, then started dealing.  "Five card draw, deuces wild."

It didn't take long before Vachon and Urs realized they had greatly underestimated the opposition, as they sat completely naked.  Either Nick or Tracy had won every hand.  Nick had lost his jacket, shoes, socks, and shirt.  Tracy had lost sweatshirt, jeans, and her bra, pulling it off under the T-shirt she still wore.  Vachon had called "no-fair", but Nick just laughed.  

It was distracting, trying to continue the game, while their lovers were so near, and so tantalizingly naked.  Nick struggled to keep his eyes on his cards or his partner, although Urs was breathing in his ear.  Tracy didn't fair much better.  Vachon wanted the game to end so he could take her to bed.  

"I am not going to lose, Knight," she challenged. 

"We'll see, Baby," he said.

She lost the next hand.  She still had shoes and socks, but with a wicked grin at Nick she tore off her sweatshirt.  He stared, open-mouthed, as her... distraction.  Two hands later and Nick lost his belt, Tracy her panties.  

Nick was fighting sleep.  He was fighting against the primal urges his lover was stirring.  And now Tracy assaulted him through the link they shared, as Nick struggled to remember how many cards he needed.  In two hands flat, Nick joined the ranks of the naked, leaving Tracy the victor.  She jumped to her feet and did a victory dance, clad only in her socks and shoes.  

"You should have warned me how conniving she was," Vachon pouted good-naturedly.  

"I hate a poor winner," Nick said.  Grinning, he and Vachon tackled her, pinning her to the carpet and started tickling her mercilessly.

"Stop it!  Stop!  Please!" she cried out, laughing hard.  

Urs came to her aid, knowing just where Nick was ticklish as well.  Wrestling unclothed was not easy, Nick realized, releasing Tracy to face his lover. "You're on your own, Vachon," he called.  He grabbed Urs and flew to the loft.





Natalie worried all day long, which wreaked havoc with her ability to sleep.  What sort of concert would it be?  How should she dress?  Was she really stupid to encourage another vampire to become a part of her life?

She searched the entertainment section of last Sunday's paper to see which concerts would be playing.  The London Symphony was at the Jane Mallet Theater.  There were several rock concerts, and a stand-up comic.  There was also a one-man play being performed, but that wasn't a concert at all.  She took a guess that LaCroix would attend the London Symphony.  This could be a very formal affair.  It seemed to suit what little she knew of him.  

It was winter now.  That limited her choices.  She had only two formal gowns, and one was definitely for summer.  Maybe she would have time to go shopping?  But that wouldn't leave her time to fix her hair.  Well- she had plenty of time to make an appointment!  

Jumping from bed, she called the beauty salon at the Mall while heading in for a shower.  There was no time to waste.  By the appointed time she was suitably attired in a sleeveless velvet evening gown of midnight blue, with long white gloves, and a small velvet choker at her throat.  Her shoes and wrap were white, as well.  Mountains of chestnut hair was demurely piled on top of her head with star-shaped sequins sprinkled among the curls, and two curling strands hung loose to frame her face.  She felt pretty.  She felt like a woman again, and it had been a long time since she'd felt like that.





Waltz in the Sky, 09b/14
By Lorelei Sieja




LaCroix arrived at precisely 7:30, and briefly appeared surprised that she was ready and waiting for him.  He recovered quickly though, and presented her with a corsage.  Natalie blushed, feeling like a prom date, while he pinned the fragrant orchid at her breast.  Then she was escorted to the limousine below.

The evening passed in a blur.  He was attentive and polite.  He said the right things, touched her just enough to feel prickles of desire, and not enough to feel pushed.  The program included many Christmas numbers, including selections from Handel's Messiah and Tchaikovsky's oft-played Nutcracker.  She glanced at her date, wondering if the music offended him at all.  Nicholas seemed to crave religious contact and fear it all at once.  

LaCroix simply seemed to be enjoying the music.  

"Did you ever meet them," Nat asked, suddenly curious.

LaCroix nodded and gave her a slight smile.  "Yes.  I preferred Tchaikovsky, though, but I didn't encourage Nicholas to spend time with him.  He was entirely too melancholy, which does dreadful things for my son's usually "cheerful" disposition," he said, letting a trace of humor show in his voice.

Natalie smiled.  She had heard Nick play his piano on a number of occasions, and he did seem to prefer Russian composers, with their sense of the tragic.  "The Nutcracker is cheerful, though," Natalie thought aloud.

"Yes.  And Peter Ilich despised it.  He thought it was a trite bit of fluff, and later in life he even refused to perform it.  He was much happier being miserable with his operas."

She became silent again, enjoying the music and the company.  If she chose a life with LaCroix, it would be like a living history lesson.  But Nick had made his life with his master sound like a living hell.  She knew they were on better terms these days, although she sensed it was not solid.  How much of their difficulties was actually Nick's fault?  She had always taken Nick's side...  Nat knew Nick wasn't easy to get along with.  He was stubborn, proud, passionate, and impulsive- loving one minute and thoughtless the next.  Perhaps, she had judged LaCroix too harshly?  Could anyone have put up with Nick for 800 years and done any better than he?

After the concert, LaCroix escorted her into the reception area and introduced her to some of the musicians.  Natalie was speechless.  They seemed to know him, and two even looked a bit pale, like they might have known him for a very long time.  When she shook their cold hands, she was almost sure of it.  Still, her hands got cold when she was nervous, and finding vampires everywhere was a dangerous activity for a mortal, so she said nothing.

After the concert, and the limo ride back to her house, LaCroix escorted her to the door and kissed her hand goodnight.  She hesitated.  Should she invite this very proper, elegant, powerful creature into her humble and less-than-tidy abode?  He did not seem to expect it though, as he held her hand.  

"May I call you again," he inquired.

This was it.  She sensed that at her word, he would either go away and never see her again, or she would be committed to a relationship with him.  The evening had been perfect.  She smiled up at his blue eyes.  Before she had always thought of them as "ice blue"- cold, hard, unyielding.  Tonight something was different about them.  They were blue, and still powerful, but more like the sky.  Often changing.  Sometimes a clear blue like a summer sky, sometimes gray like before a storm.  They were fathomless.  And perhaps, just a little lonely tonight.

"I would like that very much," she answered truthfully.

He continued to hold her hand, but slowly move closer.  Very slowly.  One glance, and she could break the spell, turn him away, but all she could do was to lean towards him encouragingly.  As if in slow motion, the distance between them closed.  His lips sought hers.  For one breathless moment, they kissed. 

"Good night then, my dear Natalie," he whispered.  And he left.  It was not a hasty retreat, like Nick had often done after a too-close moment.  LaCroix was more in control of himself.  Strange, she thought, watching his retreating form.  He was so much more powerful than Nick, but she felt safer with him.  He would not do anything he did not plan to do. 

"Good night, Lucien," she whispered to the empty hallway.  Although she hadn't slept much all day, she suspected sleep would still be a long time coming.



LaCroix returned home satisfied.  The evening had been utterly pleasant.  Miss Lambert was enchanting, even when she wasn't arguing, he realized.  He would have to move very slowly, however.  Enough mortal time must pass that she would be a more suitable mate for him than for Nicholas.  He loved his son, and was not going to let a woman come between them.  Also, she had to be certain that this was what she truly wanted.  While fledglings sometimes did not adjust well and did not live long there after, this was another situation he could not allow to happen.  Besides, Tracy needed him rather more full-time.  If he waited half a decade or more, perhaps he would be freer to pursue more personal interests. 

It was faint dawn by the time he lay in his bed.  Gently, he reached out to sense his children.  Janette had grown distant of late.  She was not clear, only that she was contented, for Janette.  Next he sought Nicholas.  The boy was mirthful, as was Tracy.  They must be enjoying one another, he realized, trying to staunch the sense of longing that arose in him quite suddenly.  They were safe.  And he must find a way to keep them like that.  

Sleep would not come to him, though.  Natalie was fine, his children were fine, what was it that troubled him and kept him awake?  He tossed about and turned again, finally giving up and went in search of some delicacy to satisfy his hunger.  Later, sitting alone in his favorite chair by the fireplace, he knew what was the matter.  He was alone. 

Much later, as he still lay awake in bed, he was struck by a sense of longing.  He had been expecting as much from Tracy, and was a little surprised he hadn't felt it sooner.  Now as he closed his eyes and tried to comfort her over the link, he was startled to realize that it was not Tracy he felt, but Nicholas...





Tracy awoke midday absolutely ravenous.  The sun was still high, she knew, and the other vampires were all sound asleep.  She often awoke to feed more, and usually could return right back to sleep.  Moving carefully, so not to awake Vachon, she left the bedroom.  

The fire was nearly out.  A few embers still burned and the house still smelled that fresh wood-smoke and pine scent.  Inhaling deeply, she tried to memorize this scent.  She's have to make sure she had a fireplace in her next house.  

She went to the fridge and was just pulling the door open when Nick startled her.

"Trace?  Everything all right?"

"Geesh, Nick!  I didn't think you could still do that, now that I'm not mortal any more!"

He just shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm fine.  You can go back to bed and stop being Big Brother.  I often wake up hungry."

Nick got out two glasses and sat at the table.  "I'll join you," he said.

She poured and took a seat.  It was a perfect time to talk to him, she realized, without the distractions of the others, but now she didn't quite know what to say or how to start it.  

Nick actually gave her the lead, unknowingly.  "I'm surprised that LaCroix let you come here.  How did you manage to get his approval?"

She smiled.  "I think he was thrilled to get us both out of Toronto for the weekend.  He'd probably prefer it if we stayed here until Caspian and Corda leave."

Tracy saw Nick wince at the mention of their names.  

"I doubt that," Nick said derisively. 

"Then you just don't know," she said.  "They mean to do us harm, to spite him."

"I sure get tired of bearing the brunt of his interpersonal relationships," Nick snapped.  "What did he do this time?"

"You don't know?" she whispered.  "Nick, their brother was Takis."

Tracy was struck with fear so sharp that she broke out in a blood sweat, and in the next instant, with a rage that turned her eyes to red.  With trembling hands she grabbed her glass and drained it, slowly realizing that those emotions were not her own, but Nick's.  His eyes were clenched shut, but a soft red glow illumined his eyelashes, as he upended the bottle in a vain attempt to calm his beast.  

"Nick, I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Forget it.  It was over a long time ago.  It was the night that taught me never to count on LaCroix."

Tracy nearly choked.  She had learned the exact opposite, from the same story!  "Nick, how can you say that!  He loves you!  He would do anything for you!"

"He wasn't there," Nick spat angrily.  "Takis took me, assaulted me, and LaCroix did not protect me!"

"And he killed Takis in his rage."

"And then he left!"  Nick rose from the table, pacing restlessly, his hands still trembling.  Tracy saw the blood sweat on his brow, smelled it on his skin. 

"He had to," she started to explain.

"No!  He left me alone.  For a week.  I was hurting, and I needed him.  He was nowhere to be found.  A week later, he returned, no explanation for where he'd been, and informed me it was time to move on.  Nothing was ever quite the same after that."

"Nick, do you honestly think he would have left you alone then if he'd had a choice?"

"What else was I to think?  I'm sorry, Tracy.  He's your master now, and you have to depend on him.  But forgive me if I don't."

"Nick, don't be an ass," she snapped, getting angry herself.

He glared at her.

Tracy got up and faced him, her hands on her hips.  "He killed an older vampire.  I wasn't around back then, but I've been told that killing a vampire is a serious crime.  Caspian and Corda brought him before the council where he stood charged.  They did not win his life, only the right to exact a pound of flesh.  Nick, they beat him severely.  He, being every bit as stubborn and pig-headed as you, refused to come back to you until he had healed.  And he was too proud to explain that to you."

"So why did he tell you," Nick demanded, sounding a bit less sure of himself.

Tracy sighed.  Perhaps it was time for total honesty.  She told him then about her run in with the elder pair.  "Nick, he misses you.  Please, make things right with him!"

Nick sank back onto a chair.  He stared at his hands, no longer trembling.  "I don't know if I can."

Red tears slipped down her cheeks.  Nick looked up and brushed at them with his thumbs.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"No, it's not that," she said quietly.  "I was just struck with this feeling of- I don't know.  An empty spot, like I really really miss him and I wish he was here right now."

"I know," Nick said.  "That is the link.  A fledgling craves his master.  It is part of who we are."

She looked at Nick then, through unshed tears.  "Poor Nick.  You felt this, that week, and he wasn't there.  And Poor Vachon.  Do you think he feels this longing, since he never really had a master?"

Nick took her into his arms and held her.  "Don't fret for us, Baby.  Come, you are just overtired.  Let me take you back to bed."

She leaned up on her toes and nuzzled his neck.  "Let's not go right back to bed, Nicky?  Please?"

Nick's fangs fell instantly and he growled low in his chest.  She was the most mercurial vampire he had ever met.  She was like a whirlwind, and he was dizzy.  Taking her in to the living room, he caressed her, until they were both clinging to one another in the after throes of their passion.

Tracy had tried to concentrate on her memories of what LaCroix had passed to her in his blood concerning his torture at Caspian's hands, hoping that Nick would see it.  She wasn't really sure how this vampire thing worked, and concentrating on anything except Nick while he was doing that to her was next to impossible.  He was so passionate, so gentle, and so wonderful!  And she was thrilled that he was her new brother, as it was a tie that would last beyond the centuries.  

Nick lifted her and carried her back to Vachon's bed.  She was nearly asleep in his arms.  "Sleep well, Baby," he whispered.

"Hmm," was all she said.

Slowly, he found his way back up the stairs.  He'd seen LaCroix in her blood.  That wasn't surprising, as she'd been thinking about him just before they made love.  But, he'd seen LaCroix, bleeding on the floor of a prison cell, hungry and unfed, chained, suffering.  That was unusual and more than a little unsettling.  Was it true?  If only his master had told him!  Takis had been a vile creature, preying on the weaker, torturing them, raping them, sometimes killing them in his depraved violence.  The world was better off that he was dead.  But Nick and LaCroix had suffered enough at his death.  No one should suffer again.  He would do all he could to avoid Caspian and Corda for the duration of their stay in Toronto.  And perhaps, it was time to forgive LaCroix for yet another old hurt.

Laying down next to Urs, he pulled her into his arms.  His eyes were heavy and he was nearly asleep.  It wasn't Urs that filled his thoughts, though, neither was it Tracy.  "Master," he thought.

>From the link that tied them over the miles, over the centuries, Nick was comforted with an answering thought.  "My son."








Waltz in the Sky, 10a/14
By Lorelei Sieja

An unholy sound shrieked through Nick's subconscious.  He rolled over and tried to return to sleep.  He still felt groggy and the bed was so comfortable.  But the noise filtered through again, incessant and demanding. 

"Snow!  Snow-snow-snow!  Wake up, everybody!"

Urs groaned.  "Do something, Nicky."

"Hm.  I am," he murmured, breathing into her ear.

Tracy burst into his loft room and jumped on top of the bed, shattering a romantic moment.  "Get up, lazybones.  It snowed last night, and it is so pretty.  Come on, get up!"

Urs sat up and smiled.  "One would think you'd never seen snow before," she said.

"I haven't," Tracy confessed.  "Not like this.  Not with vampire vision!  Everything is so much clearer now, and I can play and not get cold!  Nick, let's cut a Christmas tree tonight and trim it!"

Nick laughed.  "Tracy.  Vampires do not celebrate Christmas."

She pouted only a moment, then started tugging the comforter off from them.  "I know.  I just want a tree.  I already figured LaCroix wouldn't let us put one up in the apartment.  So can I have one here?  And we'll come visit it on weekends!  Please!"

Vachon came in then, fully dressed and partially awake.  "You might as well get up, now, Knight.  No one sleeps after the baby wakes."

Nick grumbled good-naturedly.  "Fine, fine.  A tree.  Baby wants a tree.  You're going to spoil her, Vachon."

Before long they were dressed and fed, and began to hike through the woods in search of the perfect tree.  Tracy didn't want a long needle pine.  She didn't want one too small, because it wouldn't hold enough trimmings.  One tree was too sparse at the bottom, another was lop-sided.  Their shoes got soaked, the wet flakes clung to their hair.  After a few snowball fights, and making a snowman, she finally found her tree.  A pretty little balsam fir, growing too close between two larger ones, and didn't have much of a chance to mature.  Nick chopped it down, and Vachon flew it back inside the cabin.

Nick had never put up a tree before.  They were a fairly recent addition to the Christmas traditions, dating back to seventeenth-century Germany-- long after he'd forsaken his right to celebrate the holy day.  Tracy had to explain to them every step of the process- finding a bucket and some stones to hold the tree upright, in the absence of a tree stand, then filling it with water.  Nick had no tree lights, but he had hundreds of candles.  She selected the smallest ones and wired them to the branches, then they cut paper star ornaments.  Late in the night, they lit all the candles and sat around the darkened living room to admire Tracy's tree.  

Nick felt a moment of melancholy, as he vaguely remembered his mortal family and the quiet, spiritual way they had celebrated the Christ child's birth.  The memories were not clear- not like his near-perfect recall of events since becoming a vampire.  He'd suffered amnesia about six months ago from a gunshot wound to his head.  LaCroix had been able to give him back many of his memories, through sharing blood, but not all.  And his mortal memories were probably gone forever.

"Know any songs?" Tracy asked, looking around the cabin.  "What, no piano here, Nick?"

"No," he said.  "The cabin is unheated much of the year, which is terrible for an instrument- it would always be out of tune.  And I told you, vampires don't celebrate Christmas."

Vachon remembered some carols from his childhood, but Tracy didn't know the Spanish songs.  Urs said they had never celebrated the holiday as kids.  Tracy looked glum, finally losing some of her bubbly enthusiasm that annoyed Nick.  She snuggled in to Vachon's arms and the four of them sat around the couch and shared the silence.  Then, as if on cue, they all started to sing...



"I'll be home for Christmas,
You can count on me.
There'll be snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree...

"Christmas Eve is coming
As the twilight gleams
I'll be home for Christmas,
If only in my dreams."



Vachon kissed a tear from Tracy's cheek.  "What's the matter, Querida?" he whispered.  "Are you missing your mortal ways?"

"No," she said.  "Well, maybe.  But not my mortal family.  You are all my family now.  But this weekend's been great.  I'm kind of said to see it end."

"We can come back next weekend," Nick offered.

Tracy stared at him.  Nick, the morose, was suggesting that they actually have fun?  "Do you mean it?  Really?"

Urs was already on his lap, kissing him in her happiness.  "The week is going to drag by too slowly, now, my love!"

Tracy jumped up from the couch to refill all their glasses, her enthusiasm returned, even if exhaustion was still creeping in on her.  "Let's make something for LaCroix!"

The others fell silent.  "I don't think that's such a good idea," Vachon hedged.  

"He doesn't need anything, he's rich," Urs said.  

Nick reminded Tracy for a third time, putting more firmness in his voice.  "He will not celebrate Christmas."

"I know that!  So you've told me!  And I know he can buy what he needs, and that you all think he is not a sentimental old fool, but I want to make him something, just to show him my gratitude for all he's done for me.  And all of you could show him a little thanks, yourselves."

The older vampires were quiet.  Tracy addressed them each.  "Urs, he gave you a job.  He's treated you fairly, and he protects you from being harassed by the older vampires.  Don't you feel safer in the Raven than any other nightclub?"

Urs nodded sheepishly.

"Vachon-- he's tolerated your rudeness, since he knows you've no master to defend you.  He doesn't take that crap from any other vampire in Toronto.  He's hired your band, and he pretty much lets you set your own hours." 

Vachon shrugged his indifference, but Tracy felt a twinge of shame from him.

"And Nick, you know you have a lot to thank him for!  And surely you must know that you are cherished, and protected.  When's the last time you told him thanks and meant it?"

"I think that is a sweet idea, Tracy," Urs interrupted.  "But what did you have in mind?"

The two girls talked about a few possibilities, tossing each out as impractical or impossible to complete in the time they had left.  "Maybe we should all just write him a letter," Nick grumped sarcastically.

"Nick!  You're a genius!"  Tracy exclaimed.  He wiggled his eyebrows at Vachon.  It was past time to put Baby to bed.

Urs smiled brightly.  "Yes, he is!  We can all sign a quilt!"

"Exactly!"

Vachon laughed.  "Do they practice this in nursery school?"

"What?" Nick asked.

"That ability to carry on a totally female conversation that no one else can follow?"

"Oh, that.  No, I think they're born doing that," Nick said.

"Velvet and satin.  Nick, do you have any?"

"Oh, sure.  I always keep velvet and satin at a cabin.  You never know when it will come in handy."  He and Vachon burst out laughing.  Urs punched him playfully.  

"Nick, be serious!  Christmas is only a little over two weeks away.  We'll have to get started right away!"

"So, how much velvet and satin, and what colors, and what are you going to do with it," he said, still laughing hard enough that he had to wipe red tears from his face.

Tracy held her hands about six inches apart.  "Fabric scraps- no bigger than this.  And dark colors would be best."

Nick got up then and went to the loft, the other three following close behind.  He disappeared into the deep closet, and came out shortly with six evening gowns on padded hangers, the clear-plastic bags from a dry cleaners still over each one.

"Oh!  These are gorgeous!" Tracy exclaimed, lifting a velvet hem and rubbing it against her cheek.  

"Nick, these are too nice to cut up," Urs said.

"Nope.  These are perfect," Nick said.  When the girls looked skeptical, he explained their origins.  "These were Janette's.  She'd left them at the dry-cleaners when she moved on.  I brought them here, hoping she'd return for them eventually.  But, she never wears a gown that's over a year old.  And what do you do with old evening gowns.  They're hardly appropriate for the Good Will, and somehow, I just can't bare the thought of someone else wearing them.  So cut them up and make your quilt.  In a way, the gift will be from her then, too."

"You don't have to ask me twice," Tracy said enthusiastically.  

She took the gowns back down by the fireplace and started to cut them into irregular shapes.  Small piles of crimson, black, royal blue, and forest green velvet shapes began to form.  Urs cut the satin slip from one crimson gown into six-inch squares.  "Here, Tracy. Sign your name on this, and I'll see how it looks."

She accepted the pencil and thought for a minute.  Embroidering all the names was putsy, so her message shouldn't be too long, and yet, she had to say something meaningful.  "To my father, my friend, and my hero, Love, Tracy."  

"That's perfect," Urs whispered.  

Tracy shrugged, trying unsuccessfully to hide her embarrassment.  "Yeah, well, I just wish we could start embroidering them tonight."

"It is past your bedtime already," Nick chided her softly.  "We are not going in to the city tonight for thread."

She laughed, even as she yawned.  "That's fine.  Each of you take a square and sign it, too.  Then I'll go to sleep."

Urs's message was brief.  "Respectfully, Urs."  Vachon wrote about ten words, but would not tell Tracy what they were.  He'd written his in Spanish.  Nick thought.  This quilt idea was Tracy's, and seemed so important to her.  He was beginning to warm to the idea, too, but wondered how the ancient general would accept it.  Would he be pleased?  Or embarrassed?  Or merely angry that they marked a mortal custom?  His message needed to be nice, one didn't write angry words on a gift.  And it needed to be true.  He couldn't write a eulogy to feelings that he didn't share at the moment.  Finally, he knew.  In his elegant, medieval script, he wrote: "Forever yours, Nicholas."

Tracy kissed him on the cheek.  "That's perfect, brother.  Good night."





Waltz-PG 10b
By Lorelei Sieja



LaCroix eyed the elder pair as they sulked in their booth at the far corner.  They had seemed almost petulant that his children had not been in for two nights.  He was angered as he thought about them bringing any harm to them!  Nicholas, although no longer an infant, was still so vulnerable.  He wanted to be brave, daring, independent, even as he denied himself the very essence that would help him achieve his goals.  And little Tracy... he had been unsure about adding her to his family, and immediately after the event he'd regretted her intrusion, but she was coming to mean much to him.  She was so like his son in many ways.  She was emotional, passionate, a golden ray of sunshine in the dark.  Yet, there was something unique about her.  She was younger, fresh and eager, loving, ... she was distinctly feminine.  He felt his undead heart quicken as he considered his children.  He would do anything to protect them.

Caspian looked bored.  He seemed to be only half listening to his sister, as she complained in his ear.  That made LaCroix smile.  Caspian had been fun, once.  He and LaCroix had been best friends back in the second century.  LaCroix had not liked his sister then, and the years had not been kind to her.  She was older than them both, but not by enough years to matter.  He had taken her once... which had been a mistake.  She was always coming between him and Caspian, and ever since their little brother Takis had assaulted Nicholas, LaCroix had had nothing to do with either of them.  Seven hundred years was a long time to carry a grudge.  

"Patrick, hand me the special reserve, from under the shelf," LaCroix said at last.

The young bar tender eyed his employer suspiciously before complying.  The case of vintage mortal was blended with a potent wine, and the last time LaCroix had consumed it had been the only time he had ever seen the ancient inebriated and out of control.  Still, one did not defy a two thousand-year-old vampire, especially if he was also your boss.  Patrick took the key from his pocket, unlocked the door and withdrew the bottle.  LaCroix accepted it, taking a glass for himself, and went to join Caspian at his table.  

The other vampire looked up and almost smiled as his one-time friend approached.  

"Hell and damnation," Corda complained as LaCroix sat down.  "It's getting too crowded in here.  It's time to go."

"No," LaCroix said, barely civil.  "It is time to chat."  He uncorked the bottle and watched for the reaction as the fragrant scent tickled their nostrils.  Caspian's eyes took on the golden flecks.  Corda blinked and turned away disdainfully.

LaCroix filled his own glass, then looked questioningly at Caspian.  The other pushed his glass nearer.  LaCroix poured his as well, but set the bottle down without offering any to Corda.  He knew she was too arrogant to ask for it, and she would sit there and stew for hours without allowing herself to taste it.  He smiled to himself.  Although women as a whole were delightfully unpredictable, Corda was the exception.

"Why are you here," LaCroix asked then, after he and Caspian had each tasted their beverage.  

Corda snorted.  "What?  We need a reason to sit in a bar?"

LaCroix opened his mouth to snap at her, but Caspian made a gesture.  "Corda, don't waste our time.  You know what he meant."  

LaCroix was surprised.  Caspian had always acted like the baby brother, falling behind her shadow and obeying her blindly.  It was the first independent thought LaCroix had seen him voice.

"We were sent by the Council," Caspian began.  "Not to investigate you, Lucius.  But, there has been so much happening in Toronto recently.  That strange fever for one.  And dozens of vampire deaths, including two ancients.  There have been rumors of mortals who know about us, besides that doctor who cured the Fever.  Your son is still a topic of debate among the elders, and the community here has grown quite large- perhaps too large for safety.  We are simply to observe and report back.  Nothing more."

"Then why the petty taunting of my children," LaCroix demanded.

Corda started to speak, but again Caspian cut her off.  "I apologize, Lucius.  It is over.  And I will be pleased to report to the council that your son seems to be changing his ways.  Although I disagree with your decision to allow him to be so involved with mortals, he is not breaking the code and he seems more contented now as a vampire.  Certainly, you must be pleased with him now."

LaCroix nodded to his former friend.  "Very.  And I will not permit anything to harm him."

The air was stiff with the implied threat.  Then Caspian nodded and smiled, almost looking like the friend he once knew.  "And congratulations on your newest child.  She really is quite delightful.  I have been considering taking on a child of my own.  Seeing her has deepened my feelings."

"You are a fool," Corda spat.  "Both of you.  Excuse me!"  She got up and left the table.  A look of sadness crept across Caspian's face, but neither said a thing.  They sat together, finishing the fine wine, deep in their memories.  When the bottle was empty and Caspian was no longer quite steady on his feet, he rose slowly.

"Good Day, Lucius.  I am sorry that our presence here has been awkward.  We do not plan to remain much longer."

"You, Caspian, are welcome to return," LaCroix said firmly, his inflection clear that the invitation did not include Corda.  The other made a slight nod of acknowledgement before he left.



LaCroix felt mellow.  The wine was affecting him as much as the encounter.  Once, he had thought of Caspian as a brother.  He'd been alone for nearly a century, and Rome was changing.  It was weaker, more corrupt, and under constant attack from barbarian invasions.  He was almost ashamed to call himself a Roman.  Traveling further south into Turkish lands, he'd discovered a new life, teaming with wealth and power just ripe for the taking.  Together, he and Caspian had plotted their schemes.  But Corda had been jealous.  At first, she had flirted with LaCroix, but when he took her, it was Selene who filled his thoughts, the lovely, vengeful prostitute, now long dead.  Corda was livid.  From then on, his relationship with Caspian became strained, as the other was torn between friendship and family.  Finally, LaCroix moved on.  Now, he suspected that the family ties were choking Caspian.  How much longer would the vampire tolerate her?  It was almost a shame that they planned to leave soon.  LaCroix would love to be there when Caspian finally turned the tables on that conniving bi*ch.  

Caspian's word that his children were no longer in danger was not enough to ease LaCroix's fears.  Not as long as Corda still breathed.  He would have to keep a careful watch on them when they returned to Toronto.  And if she so much as looked at them, LaCroix was prepared to see she never breathed again.  

He missed them.  As he reached out to sense them, he could feel their happiness.  Whatever activity they were involved in, they were both enjoying it immensely.  He was glad they were there, safe for the time being, and yet, part of him longed to be with them.  Perhaps he could call Natalie...  but no.  It was too soon.  She might get the mistaken idea that he needed her.  And that would never do.  Angry with himself for his musings, he locked himself inside the sound booth to pre-record some dark advice for the city's foolish listeners.  



It was the last night at the cabin.  They would have to return to Toronto in a few hours, leaving enough time to arrive before sunrise.  No doubt, LaCroix would want Tracy home early enough for her lessons.  Nick recalled the centuries he had spent in the hot seat, learning from their hard master.  Some lessons had seemed cruel at the time.  Would LaCroix teach Tracy in the same way?  Or had the ancient vampire mellowed?  

The girls finished up cutting the quilt shapes.  Their project didn't look like much to him, but they seemed happy with it.  It was hard to imagine how the pieces would fit together, and what it would look like.  Part of him was dreading Christmas.  Tracy was so excited about this quilt.  What if LaCroix didn't like it?  She was so young.  Nick had faced many disappointments at the hands of his master.  Would Tracy be strong enough?

"You worry too much," Urs whispered in his ear.  

Nick cocked half a smile.  "Guilty.  What are you going to do about it?" 

She nibbled on his ear.  "You get to help by gathering signatures," she said.

"Uh-uh, no way," Nick denied.  "That's such a girl-thing.  I can't possibly go around asking anybody to write mush on fabric." 

Vachon agreed.

"But, I'm not supposed to visit vampires alone," Tracy reminded him.  "You have to help!"

Nick saw her sad expression and felt responsible.  He had to do something.  "I can take you around," he volunteered reluctantly.  "But you have to do the rest."

"Okay," she said.  "That will work."

"You realize, that the first time you share blood with LaCroix, he's going to discover your secret."

Tracy gasped.  "He can't!  He'll ruin everything!  Oh, Nick, what am I going to do!"

Vachon put a comforting arm around her.  "How do you keep a secret from him, Knight?"

"I don't," Nick said.  "I've never been able to keep something from him."

"Bummer," Vachon mumbled, suddenly grateful his master was dead.  

"Just don't share blood," Urs suggested.  "Christmas isn't that far away.  Couldn't Vachon just come over every night?  Maybe LaCroix won't bite you?"

"As long as I stay out of trouble," Tracy grumbled.

"You can do it, Baby," Nick encouraged, "just put your mind to it."

"Yeah- you too, then.  I dare you."

"Do what?" Nick gulped nervously.  Tracy had the look of trouble in her eye, and he knew he wasn't going to like it.

"I dare you to stay out of trouble until after Christmas.  I dare you to be the perfect son."

Urs laughed.  Vachon was grinning from ear to ear.  "Come on, Tracy," he said, teasingly.  "Give him a break.  Dare him to do something he at least has a chance of succeeding at."

Nick wasn't certain whom he was more annoyed with at the moment.  

"Come on, Nick," Urs challenged.  If you and LaCroix share blood before Christmas, you'll spoil the surprise as well."

"Time to go," Nick replied.  "Now."

The girls laughed harder.  Vachon clapped him on the back.  "Too bad, Nick.  I think you've been duped."

He shrugged, trying to look indifferent.  "It's no problem.  I know how to handle the old general.  Tracy's the one who's going to spoil it."

She laughed.  "We'll see!"








Waltz in the Sky, 11a/14
By Lorelei Sieja


They all rode to Raven together, escorting Tracy back to LaCroix.  The ancient was in his soundbooth when they arrived.  He acknowledged their presence with a lift of his eyebrow without interrupting his monologue at all.  Tracy looked a little hurt that he didn't make her feel more welcomed.  Nick tugged her out of the soundbooth and quietly closed the door.

"Rule number 342," Nick said softly.  "Never interrupt him."  

She nodded.  "Right.  Thanks for the lovely weekend, Nick."

"Hey, he's busy now.  It'd be a good time to get a few signatures from around the bar."

Tracy brightened.  "You're right!  Let's do it!"

Tracy and Urs hit on every vampire there, moving discretely through the crowds.  Being a Sunday night the mortal population was down.  Vachon watched protectively, from just outside the soundbooth door.  It was supposed to be his job to warn them before LaCroix emerged.  Nick introduced Tracy to everyone.  They treated her with respect, partly because of her master, and partly because of the new respect Nick had earned, since he'd killed Divia.  Odd, he thought, how killing the ancient had raised him in their estimation.  He was still the same Nick, still conflicted with his nature, still prone to mood swings, but now, the other vampires fairly worshipped him.  As he watched them signing their scraps of satin, though, Nick was humbled at the messages they wrote for LaCroix.  The messages were in a variety of languages, which frustrated Tracy to no end, but Nick could read them all.  Words of appreciation and gratitude.  It surprised Nick, in that his master had never been particularly philanthropic, and yet, somehow, the entire community in Toronto owed him for something.  

An hour later Vachon cleared his throat and signaled Tracy.  She stuffed a scrap of satin into Nick's pocket and turned away from the vampire she'd just met.  Reaching up on her toes, she pecked Nick lightly on the cheek.  "See you tomorrow, partner," she said.

Nick smiled.  "Good day, Baby.  Behave yourself."

She rolled her eyes at him, but her grin was genuine.  "You, too!"



LaCroix seemed distracted.  Tracy tried to tell him about their weekend in the cottage, at least, the parts that she'd decided were okay to share, but he didn't seem to be listening.  When she asked if they were going to have a lesson that night, he had declined.  "You are tired from your weekend," he'd commented without emotion.  "Get to bed early, and I will see you tomorrow."  Tracy tried to conceal the look of disappointment as she went to her room.  Had something gone wrong between him and the coroner?  She'd have to call Natalie tomorrow.



The following night, Nick came to the apartment to pick her up.  He still seemed stiff and awkward around his master, so he had not yet forgiven him, but at least he was trying.  And as she grabbed her coat to leave, LaCroix had put one hand on Nick's shoulder, the other on hers.  "Be careful," he cautioned them.  

Nick shrugged.  The advice fell on deaf ears.  Tracy looked at her master with concern.  He was worried about something.  "We will, sir," she said, and kissed his cheek.  

At the precinct, Tracy felt the silent stares from the bullpen.  "When are they going to give it up?" she whispered to Nick. 

"When they find someone else to gossip about," he answered.  He'd always hated being the source of the gossip, but it wasn't so bad now that he shared it with Tracy.  It was sort of funny, in a way.  And it made him wonder about when they moved on. Would it just be easier to call her his sister in their next life?  But then, family members were seldom allowed to work together.  And he was getting used to her being his partner.  Well, they wouldn't have to worry about moving for a while yet.  If LaCroix didn't create problems, they could manage for about ten years still... maybe.  

"Saw your name in the paper, Nick," some of them called.  Nick shrugged.  His name was often in the paper as the arresting officer.  He didn't see what was so funny.

Captain Reese stood outside his office and motioned to them.  He looked solemn.  Nick listened for his heart rate.  The captain was worried about something, and Nick didn't think it had anything to do with the rumors.  He held the door for Tracy, then stepped inside and waited for Reese to speak.

"Tracy, I'm sorry about your father, and I wanted to know if you're okay," he said quietly.

Tracy swallowed.  Her father?  But he was alright, wasn't he? LaCroix wasn't going to kill him.  Had he slipped up and made a mistake?  Is that why he'd been so distant last night?  

"What about her father," Nick asked, sensing her turmoil through their bond.

Reese glanced at him.  "Didn't you hear?  I know you were away this weekend, but it was all over the news."

Nick shook his head, wishing the captain would just get to the point.  

"Commissioner Vetter resigned, effective immediately.  The press is speculating that he was involved in the sale of contraband, but they have no proof.  As far as I know, there is no investigation into his activities.  But he cleaned out his office, and word has it that he's moving to Scottsdale, Arizona."

Tracy nodded.  He was alive, he wasn't going to be investigated, and he was going to retire in a yuppie neighborhood.  Was she sorry?  No, it was probably better than he deserved.  "Captain, I'm fine," she said emphatically.  

"He called me, after announcing his resignation," Reese continued.  "Tracy, he told me to put Mr. LaCroix down as your next of kin.  None of this is making any sense to me."

Nick concealed a grin.  His master was certainly being thorough these days!  

"Is something going on between you and Nick's dad?"

Tracy burst out laughing.  Nick's grin was no longer concealed.  Reese seemed irate that his concerns were being treated so lightly.  

"He probably wants you to contact LaCroix in an emergency, just because he is so close, and can forward a message to him if needed," Nick suggested.  

"I can assure you, Captain, that LaCroix has been like a father to me.  There is nothing else between us," Tracy lied.  Yes, a vampire father, which meant, they had been lovers, too.  But Reese would not understand.  

"Well, welcome back then," Reese said.  "And check with Schultz.  She got some faxes while you were gone, relating to the Jacobs case."

"Uh, Captain, there is one more thing," Nick said.  "We were planning to return to the cabin this weekend.  Would it be okay if we come in a little early, and take off early again?"

Reese stared at Nick hard, keeping his expression blank.  Nick looked innocent enough, which usually meant he was up to something.  Reese was beginning to read this complex detective better.  But it was a harmless request.  Still, it might be good for a little leverage.

"Under one condition," Reese said.  "You provide the entertainment for the Christmas Ball."

"Me?  I can't!" he exclaimed.

Reese smiled.  "Sure you can.  I heard that you did it once before, for Cohen.  We had a group all lined up, and their lead singer just had a tonsillectomy.  They cancelled all engagements until after the New Year.  We're desperate, and I've heard that you are quite talented."

Nick groaned.

Tracy nudged his arm. "I'd love to hear you, Nick," she said.  "Do it!  Do it for Urs!"

Reese kept silent, watching the unspoken interaction between the two detectives.  The light teasing was not uncommon among coworkers, but Tracy and Nick seemed to have developed it to an art form.  It was good to see Nick a little looser these days.  After Schenke's death, Reese had been worried that Nick might not ever recover, at least, not without professional help.  

"I'll do it," Nick said quietly, "But only with Tracy's help."

"Nick!  I can't sing," she objected.

Reese was shaking his head.  "Nick, the Policeman's Ball is a big thing.  You know the top brass is going to expect a quality program."

"Vachon and Urs will join us," Nick continued, warming to his subject.  Misery loves company, he decided.  "Vachon's a talented musician, and Urs has been a dancer for ages."

Tracy slugged him in the gut.  "Don't let her hear you say that," she quipped.  "She's not THAT old."

"Fine, fine.  It's in your hands, Nick.  Give us a good show, and I can let you out early on Friday."

"I can't sing," Tracy told Nick again as they got up to leave.  Reese just shook his head as he heard Nick's reply before the door closed behind them.  "Sure you can.  I've heard you in the shower, remember?"

"Oh, and Nick," Reese called, jumping up to pull the door open again.  "If you ever get a ticket like that again, I'll have you working traffic for six months!"

The bullpen erupted into laughter then.  

"What ticket?" Tracy asked.

Nick grinned sheepishly.  "Um, last Friday night- Vachon and I were both speeding, but only I got pulled over."

"I don't remember," she said.

"You were sleeping."

"So how fast were you going?"

The other officers all answered for him. "He was clocked going 170 kph!  That ticket is not going to be pretty.  And the paper's making a big deal about him being a cop.  The shit's going to hit the fan big on this one, Knight."

Nick shrugged indifferently.  If they took away his motorcycle license, then they'd be taking the caddy this weekend.  Besides, in his next life, all his tickets from this one would be lost.  


Waltz in the Sky, 11b/14
By Lorelei Sieja


Nick was having a hard time concentrating.  He kept thinking about the past weekend, and was overwhelmed with the desire to make Tracy happy.  It seemed so important to her, and LaCroix couldn't be counted on to be appreciative.  Maybe he should make something for Tracy?  But what?  He didn't really know anything about her.  He knew her feelings for Vachon and her fascination with vampires, but he didn't know her likes and dislikes, her hobbies, her life outside of being a cop.  Maybe, she just didn't have one?  Maybe, now that she was out from under Mr. Vetter's oppressive thumb, and she had all the time in the world, she would have the opportunity to develop some hobbies.  

She was enjoying this quilt she and Urs were going to make.  Maybe that was a start.  He could give her a sewing basket, or a book about quilts...   Then he had an idea.  A quilting frame... There was a special shop, where the products were all hand-made by Amish craftsment.  Nick admired their workmanship.  A quilting frame for Tracy might be perfect.  But then, what should he give to Urs?  Suddenly, the night seemed too long.

Tracy stared at the faxes without reading them.  Maybe she should remember Nick, Urs and Vachon this Christmas, too?  They had been adamant that they didn't celebrate the holiday, and yet they were willing to help her with the quilt for LaCroix.  Would it be so wrong to give them each some small, meaningful gift, as well?  But, the quilt was going to take a lot of time.  She couldn't make their gifts- unless it was something quick and easy, and she didn't feel particularly talented.  It would take some thought.

Vachon was easy.  He didn't know any of the popular, English Christmas songs, and he'd just been volunteered to do the Christmas Ball.  She should find him a Christmas Fake book with the guitar chords in it- and give it to him early.  And Urs was living with Nick, now.  She deserved a crown.  Tracy grinned at the thought.  Nick was a really wonderful guy, and she loved him dearly, she realized with a start.  But, he must be difficult to live with.  

Then she remembered the photos she'd taken of them some weeks ago.  One she had enlarged and framed, and Nick kept it on the dresser in his bedroom.  Maybe Urs would like to have the photos in an album of her own?  She didn't seem like she'd collected much over the years, and traveling with Vachon had meant traveling light, since he'd spent centuries fleeing from the Inca.  Now, he was changing, and collecting stuff of his own.  Maybe, Tracy could take a few more pictures between now and then to add to the album?  Pictures around her Christmas tree?  She'd have to remember to pack the camera this weekend.

So what about Nick?  She was really stumped.  Maybe Natalie could help her think?  

The phone rang, startling her from her musings.  "Vetter," she said into the mouthpiece.

"Is Nicholas there?" the cool voice asked.

Tracy smiled.  LaCroix sounded worried.  That was good.  "Yes," she said.

"Is he listening?"

She kicked Nick under the desk and grinned as he jumped and glowered at her.  "Now he is," she replied.

"Corda is missing, and Alma's child Rita is dead.  It appears that hunters are in Toronto."

Tracy felt a shiver up her spine.  She glanced at Nick, who stared right through her, a look of panic on his pale face.  

"Nicholas is not to take his eyes off you for a single minute until this matter is solved," LaCroix spoke firmly, for her benefit as much as for Nick.  

"Yes, sir," she said softly.

"Come to the Raven.  We must discuss this in private."  Then the connection was broken, as LaCroix must have hung up.

Tracy stood and pulled on her jacket, waiting for Nick to do the same.  He drove silently towards the Raven.  His dispute with their master was set aside, now that they had more urgent matters to face.  Tracy didn't fool herself that the cold war was over, only tabled until later.  

The Raven was unusually silent.  No music blared from the stage, and no mortals mingled among the crowd.  Tracy wondered about that until she watched the bouncer hypnotize any mortal guest, and tell them that they did not want to come inside.  

"Why doesn't he just lock up," Tracy wondered.

"We don't want to discourage any vampires from seeking refuge, and closing it with a crowd inside might look suspicious," Nick explained.

LaCroix hadn't come right over, but hovered among the vampires in his nightclub giving them comfort just with his ancient presence.  He had Patrick deliver a bottle and three glasses to the far table, and shortly, he joined his children.

Nick told him about Merlin's discovery on the Internet.  LaCroix nodded distractedly.  Virtual dangers were nothing compared to the very real threat here in his home.  

"Caspian is out flying over the city.  He hasn't been able to sense his sister since yesterday, and fears the worst.  If these hunters can kill an ancient one, they are too powerful and dangerous for you.  I don't suppose I could convince both of you to take a long vacation and leave town?

Tracy was willing to do whatever he said, but Nick shook his head emphatically.  

"If we change anything in our routine, it will only alert the hunters' suspicions," Nick said.  "I say we go back to work and do our job."

LaCroix smiled at Tracy smugly.  "I knew he would feel that way."

Tracy giggled, and Nick glared at her.  "Then why did you call us here," Nick demanded.

LaCroix looked out over the frightened crowd.  Janette had made him promise to take care of her strays when she'd sold him her nightclub.  She wanted him to make sure that the lost vampires always had a place to go.  He'd kept the club open for nearly two years now, but only since the Fever had he taken his duty seriously.  That fateful time had seen dozens of her strays die in a single night, and he had been powerless to protect them.  If he wasn't careful, half the vampire population of Toronto could be dead by this time tomorrow.  

"I want you to be here for a few hours.  You are older than many.  Your presence will help to calm their fears," LaCroix said.  "I have a show to put on, and tonight's message must be carefully composed."

Nick looked at his master with surprise.  It was the first "selfless" act he had ever seen the ancient do, and yet he could think of no ulterior motive.  LaCroix looked decidedly melancholy as he stared out over the club.  Nick shrugged.  If LaCroix was manipulating him, he would find out soon enough.  He stood and looked through the crowd.  Vachon wasn't present, but the rest of his band was.  "Go call Vachon," he told Tracy, "and tell him to get over here."  Then he stirred the band and told them to play something cheerful.  Nick went behind the bar and spoke to Patrick.  Within minutes they had the waitresses- the vampire ones- serving free drinks.  Nick took a glass for himself and began to work the crowd.  

LaCroix smiled proudly.  His son was a magnet.  People and vampires alike were but iron filings, attracted to either loving him or hurting him.  Tonight's crowd was the loving type.  They seemed to flock around him, no longer caring that for a century he had denied his vampire existence.  They knew that he had been the one to destroy the ancient Divia, and for that they respected him, as much as for the fact he was LaCroix's son.  Nicholas was reassuring them with his calm, quiet presence.  LaCroix imagined what he would say to these vampires, and the ones still out in the city.  Somehow, tonight's message had to warn them of the hunters' existence, yet not bring suspicion on his station and the strays who looked to the Raven for safety.  

Taking a notebook from his pocket, he began to write.  "My children... all who look to me heed my voice tonight.  Come to me.  Let us gather together and share old times.  Days of yesteryear.  Come without delay for your father misses you.  Beware of the night.  Tonight the moon hides her face from us, weakens us... the shadows promise ill tidings.  Come to me, my children of the night, and I will watch over you."  Well, it was a pathetic start.  He had another thirty minutes before he would broadcast.    



Urs and Vachon finally arrived.  LaCroix wondered then if his son would abandon his duty to flirt with his new lover.  He tried to conceal his irritation from him, but Nicholas glanced in his direction curiously.  LaCroix put on the cold, expressionless mask he wore so often, which Nick took for anger and wondered what he'd done now.  With a shrug, he put his arms around Urs and kissed her.  

"No one sleeps alone," he said to Vachon, "until this mess is over.  If you have no one to stay at the church with you, then you may either stay here or come to my loft at dawn." 

Vachon grinned casually.  "Sure, Knight.  But I figure maybe I'll keep Tracy company, if your old man doesn't object."

Nick grinned.  Vachon was more afraid of LaCroix than he was, and knew the Spaniard would never speak so disrespectfully if he thought LaCroix was listening.  "He is here, you know," Nick whispered evilly, watching Vachon's face pale as he glanced nervously about. 

End, 11b/14




Waltz in the Sky, 12a/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Caspian returned near midnight.  He looked far different from the arrogant posturing elder who had intimidated both Tracy and Nick.  His eyes were sunken and he seemed to have aged a century over night.  Tracy felt sorry for him, but was afraid to get too near.  Instead she gravitated towards LaCroix, as was becoming more and more her habit.  

He smiled at her, already sensing her question even before she spoke.  "I believe Corda is dead," he explained.  "She was the older sister, and they were closely bonded.  However, she was the shrew of the two.  It is as if the spiteful half of himself has died with her.  He is lost, but he will recover."

"How do you know him," she asked.

LaCroix glanced at Caspian, as he slunk into a booth, alone in the crowded club.  "We were fledglings together, and friends for a time.  Until Divia destroyed their master and put enmity between our families."

Tracy nodded with understanding.  Still, two millennia was a bit long to carry a grudge.  Now Divia was dead, as was Corda.  Would the ancients pull together in the common goal of eradicating the hunters from Toronto?  She could hope.  "May I speak with him?" she asked.

LaCroix looked surprised, but he did not deny her request.  "As you wish, my dear.  You may go to him when I am near."

She kissed him on the cheek before taking her drink and joining Caspian in his secluded booth.  LaCroix smiled, once again feeling very proud of his children.  



Urs nudged Nick playfully.  "You are such a tease," she said.

Nick licked her throat, inflaming her eyes with desire.  "And you, my pretty," he growled softly in her ear, "will wait here for me.  We can journey to the loft together."

"Are you leaving?" she asked with surprise.

Nick nodded.  "We can't all go in to hiding.  The hunters will know we suspect them, and become twice as careful.  Our best chance is to catch them off-guard."

Urs nodded solemnly.  "Please be careful," she admonished, knowing full well her words fell on deaf ears.

Nick grinned at her boyishly.  "Always, my love."  Then he went to speak with LaCroix.

"I need to return to work for a few hours," Nick stated.  LaCroix made a slight gesture of ascent.  "Tracy will go with you," he said.

"But it isn't safe for her!"

"I know," LaCroix responded.  "And I know that you will avoid danger if she is with you.  Take her, or stay here."

Nick rolled his eyes, then went to get Baby.  LaCroix had the strangest ideas sometimes.  Nick thought the best way to catch these hunters was to lay a trap- to intentionally put a vampire in harm's way, to lure the hunters to attack.  But the ancient would never permit Nicholas to volunteer.  His job would be so much easier if LaCroix would permit him to just do it.

Tracy seemed quieter tonight.  She followed Nick closely, still trying to act like the seasoned cop, but he could sense her distress.  Damn LaCroix!  He should have kept her with him!

They would stay at their desks for the rest of the night, he decided.  They were safer there, in the lights, surrounded by mortals he trusted.  Then maybe tomorrow he could speak to LaCroix about setting a trap.  



Suddenly, Reese's door opened and the big captain rushed to Nick's desk.  His heart rate was elevated; sweat and fear were on his face.  "Nick- there's a fire.  It's your father's place- the Raven.  Fire trucks and ambulances have been dispatched, and we've got some blues responding to the call now."

Nick and Tracy jumped to their feet, wearing twin expressions of fear and disbelief.  "No!" they exclaimed.

"Nick, from what I hear, there've been few injuries, mostly just smoke inhalation."

Nick grabbed Tracy by the arm and was already leaving the precinct.  Reese stared after them.  He didn't like LaCroix one bit.  The father was abusive, overpowering, and probably not completely honest.  Still, that Nick loved him and feared for him was evident.  He shook his head sadly.  It might be better for the young detective if his father died in the fire- freeing Nick from his influence.  Reese grunted, angry with himself for such dark thoughts.  "Take care of yourself," he whispered as he watched the green caddy pull out of the parking lot below.



They could not get close to the Raven; the roads were all blocked with fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, and crowds.  Nick reached out with his senses, and felt his father.  LaCroix was seething with rage.  Nick smiled at Tracy.  "He's okay," he comforted her.

She nodded weakly.  She too had felt LaCroix's wrath, and knew it was directed at mortals in general, hunters specifically.  Still, she wanted to be with him now.  This night was becoming a nightmare, and she only wanted it to end.

Nick flashed his badge at a police officer who was trying to keep the curiosity seekers out of the way.  The officer nodded and let them pass.  There were so many mortals present.  Did any of them suspect the clients of the Raven were not quite human?  Since he knew his master was safe, Nick thought he'd do a little damage control on his way to the center of the crowd.  Holding Tracy's arm that they wouldn't get separated, Nick drifted through the crowds, listening to snatches of conversation.

"He was as cold as ice," one EMT was telling another.  "I could find no pulse, either.  It is so weird!"

Nick flashed his badge and pulled the curious EMT aside, quickly hypnotizing her.  "There is nothing weird here tonight," he told her, before turning to erase the other's suspicions as well.  

Suddenly the crowd near the EMTs turned.  Twenty hands grabbed Nick and Tracy and pushed them backwards.  "What are you doing!" Nick demanded.  "I am a police officer!  Unhand me!" 

The faces leered at him, and he was struck in the face.  Tracy started to scream, but rags were stuffed into her mouth and she was gagged before she could draw breath.  Nick was furious, but still kept the vampire concealed.  It was possible that he could convince these hunters that they had made an error.  He shouted, demanded they let him pass.

He was slammed against the back of what looked like an ambulance on the outside, but the inside was gutted.   He lost his balance.  The throng grabbed him and tossed him inside.  Tracy soon followed.  Then the hunters opened plastic containers of holy water and doused the fallen vampires.  Nick screamed in pain as the water burned and evaporated on his cold flesh.  Tracy was weeping, but could make no sound around the gag.  The door was slammed and chained shut.  Then with the lights and siren swirling, the ambulance parted the crowds and left.

Nick flew against the back door and pounded on it angrily, although he was weakened by the water.  He tried to reach LaCroix, but could not sense him.  Until the holy water had all burned away, he probably would not sense him, either.  He tore at Tracy's gag, fumbling as his hands were severely burned, having deflected much of the water away from his face.  

Tracy's eyes were wide with fear and she was shaking.  Twin trails of blood tears stained her face.  There would be no fooling the hunters now.  

"Tracy, as soon as I tell you, you must leave and go to LaCroix," he said firmly.

"I can't," she cried.  "You'll need me!"

He shook her a little too forcefully.  "No!  You WILL GO TO HIM, or we are both dead!"

Reluctantly, she agreed.  Then he hugged her to him.  "We'll be fine, I promise," he whispered.

Tracy could hear the doubt in his voice.  She hugged him back, drawing strength from him.  

The ambulance jerked to a stop.  Nick motioned to Tracy to be silent and he strained to pick up the outside conversations. 

There were many heartbeats beyond.  Maybe as many as twenty- it was hard to tell when their pulses raced so erratically.  There were shouts and a commotion, and the sounds echoed as though they were in a large empty place, like a parking garage or unfinished basement. 

He heard the chains rattle in the door and grabbed Tracy, pulling her behind him.

"Come out of there you devils," shouted angry voices as the door swung open.  Oil was tossed inside, followed by a lighted match.  Nick leaped out, carrying Tracy with him.  He faced his attackers, growling fiercely.

Several jabbed at him with long wooden stakes, while others murmured.  "Jonston was right!  They are devils!  Look at his eyes!"

Nick glanced around nervously.  It was the parking garage, but it was mostly empty at this hour before dawn.  At least there might not be any innocents hurt in the melee.  

A jar of holy water was thrown at him.  Nick turned his back to catch the spill, shielding Tracy with his body.  He howled in pain as his shirt soaked through and the water burned his flesh.  The burns were shallow though, and he had well fed earlier.  "You must get away," he whispered to her again.  

More oil was dumped on the cement in a half-moon, trapping the vampires between the oil and the blazing truck behind them, then it was ignited.  Pebbles and garlic were thrown at him; still he shielded Tracy behind him.  

Fire was terrifying.  It was more dangerous than wooden stakes, and its yellow tongues lashed out at Nick, licking his flesh and singeing his clothes.  The hunters backed away from the flames as well.  It was the opening he needed.  Grabbing Tracy, he leaped over the flames, rolling along the pavement. 

"Run!" he screamed, getting to his feet to block the hunters from pursuing her.

Tracy didn't want to leave.  Nick needed help, but she knew that she was no match for the hunters.  Nick's only chance was if she could get to LaCroix quickly.  Ignoring the guilt she felt, she raced for freedom, lifting off the pavement as she took flight.  

The hunters surrounded Nick, tossing a net over him to keep him from flying away as well.  Several jumped in to cars to take off after Tracy, but Nick hoped she had put too much distance between them.  He tore at the net, fighting for his life as the garlic sickened him and the pebbles continued to annoy him.  He let his fangs descend then, to tear at the net.  

The leader clubbed him with the stake.  "How many of you are here in Toronto!" he shouted.

"Go to hell," Nick hissed.  

They clubbed him again and again, but were careful not to kill him.  He understood then that he would be tortured, as they expected to get information from him before they killed him.  He reigned in his anger.  He would need his strength, and prayed LaCroix would arrive in time.  Tonight was not a good night to die.  This would be an ignoble death.  He had not yet atoned for his many sins; if there was a God for vampires, please let him live that he might redouble his efforts to help those in need!

"Where are your hiding places!" The hunters shouted.  "Where will you vermin crawl now that your den is gutted?"

Nick kept silent as the blows continued to weaken him.  He was bruising now, and the bruises were not instantly healing.  He rolled around on the pavement, still tangled in the net, and tried to avoid as many of their blows as he could.  His arms were scraped and bleeding as he shielded his face.  "Please, Tracy," he whispered.  "Hurry!"






Waltz in the Sky, 12b/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Tracy flew out of the parking garage.  LaCroix had told her never to fly alone, but that didn't matter.  She would do anything, even defy him and risk his anger, if it meant saving Nick.  Only, she didn't know where LaCroix would be.  Was he injured in the attack at the Raven?  Would he be down at the precinct giving a statement?  Or would he go to the loft to wait for his children there?  Nick didn't have time for her to be wrong!  She shut her eyes and concentrated hard, screaming one word, "Master!"  

"Here I am," came the reply instantly.  It was not so many words, but a presence in her thoughts.  LaCroix was at the loft, as were other vampires.  She headed there straight away, just beginning to worry how she would land.  LaCroix threw open a window and she flew through it as he grabbed her.

"What are you doing!" he demanded angrily.

Tracy hugged him tightly, gasping for breath with which to speak.  "Nick!  Hunters!" 

LaCroix's face paled noticeably and blood appeared on his brow.  "Where!"

"The parking garage, on seventh," she panted.

LaCroix leaped from the window, and Caspian followed.  Vachon went to the window to close it.  He gathered Tracy in his arms and soothed her.  "He will save him, Trace.  Don't you worry.  That was some landing!  I like your style."

Tracy ignored him.  Although the light teasing was meant to relieve her fears, she was too worried to want to be consoled.  

Urs brought her a drink.  Tracy accepted it and glanced around Nick's loft.  There were ten vampires seeking refuge, and of them, Vachon was the oldest.  "Shouldn't we follow them?" she asked.  "Give them aid?"

"No," Vachon replied.  "He told me to "keep these children here", and under no circumstances are we to leave.  I think you should listen to him."

"But," she argued.

"No." Vachon was firm.  "The two ancients can handle this better, if they aren't distracted.  You can help LaCroix best if you calm your fears and allow him to concentrate."

Tracy nodded weakly, feeling duly chastised.  She sank on to the couch and closed her eyes.  It was the night that would never end... suddenly eternity didn't seem long enough.



LaCroix reached out but could barely feel his son.  What he could sense was terror more than pain and that encouraged him.  Their link was weakened somehow, but not severed.  LaCroix focused on Nicholas's fear, telling him that they were coming.

Caspian flew beside him with grim determination.  It was his chance to avenge Corda's death.  He had volunteered to help LaCroix track down the hunters, laying aside their feud.  The garage loomed ahead.  They flew through the low-ceilinged structure, right into the throng of hunters.  They lifted bodies left and right, tossing them into cement supports with bone-cracking force.  LaCroix tore at the net and freed his son.

Nick flung himself into LaCroix's arms.  He was shaking uncontrollably, weakened, bruised, and bleeding, but none of his wounds were serious.  LaCroix tried to pry him loose that he could assist Caspian with the last of the hunters, but Nick's grip was firm.  He sighed and welcomed his son's embrace.  Caspian seemed to have matters under his control, and the rage with which he tore at the hunters was cathartic, in a way.  

"What is the matter, Nicholas," LaCroix asked softly, as his trembling continued.

"I was afraid," he whispered, his voice shaking.  "That you wouldn't get here in time."

"But you knew I would come," the ancient prodded, seeing an opportunity here.

Nick nodded, burying his face into LaCroix's shoulder.  He was soaked with the blood sweat of his fear, which further weakened him.  

"Why would I come for you," LaCroix continued.  "I am a harsh master.  You seldom obey me.  What ever reason could I have for coming to help you when you defy me so often?"

Nick didn't answer.  He wanted to draw warmth and comfort from this vampire, not a lecture.  Couldn't they talk about it later?

"Tell me, Nicholas!  Why would I come to rescue you!"

"Because," he whispered.  He shook harder, feeling exhausted, and his undead heart was pulsing too fast.  He felt nauseated and faint.  "You love me," he finished.

"Yes," LaCroix snapped angrily.  "I do!  But you continually seem to forget it!"  Then he held his son to him tightly, feeling a wash of fear himself that he had come so close again to losing this precious one.  

Caspian drained a hunter and howled victoriously.  His face was that of a beast, his chin red with the blood of mortals.  They would have to drain them all, and dispose of all the bodies quickly.  He went to the next and sank his fangs.

LaCroix pried Nicholas loose then.  "Feed, my son.  You must!"

Nick grabbed a fallen hunter, a young man, and felt the desire to kill overshadow him.  The hunter trembled fearfully, shocked at how easily the vampires had turned the battle.  Nick caught the scent of fear and it further aroused him.  He was weak and he needed to feed.  Still, he couldn't turn away from nearly a century of non-killing.  Draining Janette's attackers last year had not eased his pain but only increased his guilt.

"You will forget," he demanded, trying to hypnotize the man.

"Get thee behind me, Satan!" the man shrieked.

Nick thought of Rita, and Corda, and Tracy.  This man had hunted his family.  Rage overpowered him, and he sank his aching fangs into the soft flesh of his throat.

The man's life floated over his tongue and the hot blood gushed into his mouth.  The man's name was Gordon Hemmings, and he had killed many vampires.  He had even killed a mortal, Alvin Jacobs.  He had tried to make it look like a vampire's kill, to incite his followers to action.  Nick sucked harder, tearing at the throat violently, punishing his victim before killing him.

Hemmings heart slowed as his body cooled.  Nick released the body, watching it drop to his feet.  He sank to his knees, horrified at what he had done and what he had become.  Tears filled his eyes.  

LaCroix and Caspian had completed the carnage.   LaCroix looked sadly at his son, feeling his guilt like a heavy cloak pulling him down.  He went to Nicholas and touched his shoulder.  "It was necessary," he said softly.

Nick looked up at him with tortured eyes.  "I know."  He stood slowly.  "And I'm not sorry.  He was an evil man.  I'm just surprised that I can still be such a beast and not feel shame.  I had thought I was closer to becoming mortal at least in my actions."

LaCroix hated his foolish quest, but he sensed how deeply his son was hurting.  "Just because you seek vengeance on one who has hurt you, has threatened your family, does not make you less like them," he reasoned.  "Any mortal man has the power to kill in self-defense.  They do not even punish such an act, or call it murder."

Nick nodded slowly.  His master was right.  And Nick was only very tired.  He felt strong arms around him, and let himself be lifted up.  LaCroix held him close and flew him towards his loft.  Caspian watched them depart, then began to dispose of the bodies.  



LaCroix regretted now that he had brought the strays to Nick's loft, wishing he and his son could just be alone.  Their relationship was still tenuous at best.  There was nothing he could do now.  He entered through the skylight and gently set Nicholas on his feet.

The boy was nearly asleep, heedless of the dried blood on his chin, the stains on his shirt, or the many wood splintered wounds that irritated his hands and arms.  LaCroix pushed him towards the shower.  

"Clean yourself up, then come downstairs.  Natalie will tend to your wounds," he ordered, knowing that a command would reach his son, even in his sleep.

Nicholas moved like a zombie into the bathroom.  LaCroix shook his head.  His son was so predictable at times.  He went in with him, turning on the water and pulling his ruined clothing from him.  Nicholas would have to do the rest alone.  LaCroix left and went to comfort the children downstairs.

Tracy reached him first.  She was fearful, for Nicholas, but also of LaCroix.  He wondered about it briefly, then remembered that she had defied him by flying alone.  "Nicholas will be fine," he reassured her.  "And your quick flight here saved him.  I did not want you flying alone, for your own safety, my dear, but in saving your brother, you have made me eternally grateful."

Tracy smiled, hugging him impulsively.  

Natalie was in the kitchen, still checking out the injured vampires.  Most of them had suffered only minor burns, which were healing on their own, but a few had been injured in the initial explosion, as bits of wood splintered through their flesh.  Natalie sat, her magnifying visor pulled over her eyes, as she plucked splinters from Patrick's hand.  The young vampire flinched like a baby, while flirtatiously chatting with her.

LaCroix stood behind Natalie and glowered at his audacious bartender.  Patrick shivered, jumping again as Natalie yelled at him to hold still.

"How is he?" Nat asked.

"Nicholas will be down shortly," he answered.  "I thank you, doctor, for coming here tonight."

She pulled off the visor and smiled at him.  "It is my pleasure, LaCroix.  You guys are becoming my favorite patients."










Waltz in the Sky, 13/14
By Lorelei Sieja


The vampire strays were yawning as the sun lightened the horizon.  They drifted off into corners, taking up floor space, and trying to get comfortable for the day.  LaCroix watched Tracy and Vachon move behind the grand piano.  She had a pillow and blanket, ensuring their own comfort.  LaCroix sensed her own fear subsiding as Vachon aroused her to other interests.  Urs waited patiently in the kitchen with Natalie.  Nicholas should be down soon, he thought impatiently.

Shortly, he saw his son approach, although Nicholas was still more asleep than awake.  He moved towards the kitchen and Urs handed him a glass.  LaCroix indicated the chair facing Natalie.  "Sit here, Nicholas.  Let the doctor tend your wounds."

Nick slid into the chair obediently, not fully seeing any of them.  LaCroix heaved a sigh and pulled off his pajama shirt.  Natalie gasped at the many ugly swelling wounds, some still bleeding, on his arms and back.  Nick sat still, without comment; she began the process of tugging out the splinters one at a time.  As each splinter left, the wound faded and closed quickly.  Natalie knew they healed fast, but to heal this fast, she knew Nick must have had fresh blood quite recently.  He had killed tonight.  

"Nick?" she asked gently.  She wasn't sure what she felt about it.  The hunters had attacked them, it was self-defense, and yet she worried how long Nick would suffer over this.

Nick didn't respond.  LaCroix scowled at him.  It was time to clear this up, while Nicholas was still weak and frightened.  He moved to hover over his son, and spoke low near his ear.  His voice was chilling.

"Tell the doctor what you did tonight, my son," he demanded.

"I killed a man," Nick said.  

Natalie saw the slump of his shoulders and her heart ached to comfort him.  She patted his arm affectionately.  

"And what do you feel?" LaCroix prodded.

"Okay," Nick said.  

"Do you feel guilt?"

Nick hesitated.  He felt guilty in that he didn't feel more guilty.  But LaCroix wouldn't understand that.  His master repeated the question in a tone that demanded an answer.

"No," he said.

"And what did you learn tonight," the ancient continued.

Nick turned to look up at him, exhaustion and confusion on his face.  

"Why did I come for you tonight!" LaCroix snapped.

Nick lowered his face.  "Because you care about me," he confessed.

"Care!"

"You love me," he said.

"And?"  LaCroix was not going to let him off lightly this time.

"You love me more than yourself," Nick said.  "Master."

The confession was necessary, and he wanted Natalie to hear it as well.  For six years she had thought of him as some sort of monster, solely responsible for all of Nick's miseries.  Now from Nicholas's own lips she heard the rest of the story.  

"And?" LaCroix continued, hoping to hear a full apology from his son for his disrespectful behavior recently.

Nick hesitated.  Then he grinned up at LaCroix with that innocent-angelic expression that had always melted his anger in the past.  "And you can take my bed?" 

LaCroix tried to keep from smiling.  Nicholas was still defying him by refusing to apologize, and yet, this night, hearing the words no longer seemed important.  His actions were respectful, and perhaps that was all that mattered.  He pulled his son into his arms and embraced him.  Too softly for mortal ears, he spoke.  "You and Urs may take the bed.  Perhaps I will join you later."

Nick nodded obediently and took Urs's hand.  Natalie watched them move to the loft.  She felt a pang of jealousy that it was not her in his hands, then she stuffed it away.  LaCroix was behind her, breathing down her neck, sending shivers of excitement up her spine.  

"Will he forever come between us?" he asked softly.

Natalie shook her head.  "No, Lucien.  It may take a little time.  Please be patient with me?"

"My dear," he said, pressing a kiss against her neck.  "I have all the time in the world."



Natalie had finished nursing the vampires, and made herself a cup of tea, which she drank while LaCroix consumed a different beverage.  They were companionably quiet, as all around them they sensed the contented slumber of vampires.  When she closed her eyes, Natalie could almost feel the sense of peace that floated among the bodies.  When she was ready, and joined LaCroix in the nightlife, she too would be a part of something more than herself.  She would become a part of a whole, an individual in a large, protective family.  Once again she felt the jealous monster, but not for Urs.  She envied Nick.  He had this family and didn't even appreciate it.  Perhaps it was time she help him end his quest?  Could she encourage him to live rightly, and remain a vampire?  Would it be enough to satisfy his master and bring peace between them?

"I guess I should be going," Natalie said then, when she covered a yawn.

LaCroix nodded his assent.  "Will you join me at the Raven tomorrow evening?"

She considered his invitation for only a moment.  She had plenty of leave-time accrued, and everyone knew she was a close friend of Nick's.  No one would think twice about her taking off to help him clean up the bar.  "Gladly," she said.  "Should I bring some cleaning supplies?"

LaCroix looked at her curiously for a moment before understanding dawned.  "No, my dear.  We shall leave the cleaning detail for the children.  You and I shall be upstairs, near enough to ensure that work is accomplished, yet involved in activities far more interesting."

Natalie blushed.  It was such a treat to be considered "one of the adults" she realized.  Maturity certainly had its benefits.  LaCroix walked her to the lift.  Then he moved tentatively nearer.  She had never known him to be anything less than positive and his hesitation pleased her.  She leaned into him, raising her face to accept his kiss.  His arms crushed her to him, even as his kiss took her breath away.  He was so strong, so manly, and he not only loved her, but he respected her.  She returned his kiss, parting her lips that their tongues could dance together.  

For long moments she relished the passion that swept through her.  She felt his fangs descend, and felt warm to her core as she caressed his teeth with her tongue.  LaCroix did not lose control, though.  When they ended the kiss, although his eyes were erotic, golden globes, his speech was controlled.  "Good day, my dear," he said.

Natalie smiled at him, and knew she was falling in love.  It didn't matter that she'd more or less "just broke up" with Nick.  It was LaCroix that made her melt.  "Good day, Lucien," she whispered lovingly.

LaCroix watched as she left, waited as he sensed her leaving.  The sun was up, or he'd have watched her car drive off.  It had been a long time since he'd taken a lover for his own.  There had been many vampires throughout the centuries- a fair pleasant toss whenever his children were too annoying to please him.  But he'd only loved twice before.  Once was the prostitute, when he'd still been mortal.  His daughter's mother, Selene.  He had loved her, although he'd been unable to marry her, or even to claim his child.  The prostitute had turned bitter over the years, rejecting his love.  Then, he had loved again, Nick's little sister, Fleur.  He turned away from her, letting her forget about him, to satisfy Nicholas.  Now, again, he was offered the miracle of another's love.  How unfortunate that it had to be his son's old girlfriend.  It was a delicate situation, and one that could cause great harm if not handled carefully.  

He wandered through the loft, checking in on Janette's waifs.  They looked so innocent in sleep.  Vachon's dark hair splayed across the pillow, one strand covered his pale cheek.  One long, slender hand- a musician's hand, rested on his breast.  Tracy curled up at his side, her hair the color of moonshine.  They were such opposites- Vachon was the irresponsible drifter, and she was ordered and grounded.  Yet, they looked so right together.  He smiled, imagining the centuries of battles and making up that they would share.

Turk was there, hunkered down into a ball, all alone.  Caspian needed a fledgling to bring his existence meaning.  LaCroix would speak to him about adopting the orphan.  Turk was eager to please, if a little dull-witted.  Just what Caspian needed.  

On he moved, his mind wandering as he watched the young ones sleep.  He was grateful that they were safe once more, and regretted that the hunters had not been found in time to help Rita.  She was an annoying vampire, to be sure, but she had been a good waitress and he would miss the almost nightly little problems she created.  

LaCroix was feeling his age.  He was contented, but he felt removed from this generation.  It was time to sleep and end this useless woolgathering.  Slowly he climbed the stairs.  

Nick's one-bedroom loft was not set up for company.  LaCroix thought about that, as his son had tried to live alone all the while suffering in his loneliness.  Would that change soon?  He knew Nicholas was still jealous at times of Tracy.  LaCroix would have to make certain that he knew he was always welcome.  

The room was dark and quiet.  Nick and Urs lay entwined in each other's arms, on one side of the bed.  LaCroix smiled as he removed his clothing.  He lifted the sheets and slipped inside, trying not to awaken them.  Nicholas was so exhausted.  

His son rolled over in his sleep, laying an arm around LaCroix's ribs.  The golden hair tickled under his nose.  He stroked the smooth, new skin of Nicholas' back.  

Nicholas stirred, still more asleep than awake and nuzzled at LaCroix's neck.  The ancient held still, wondering if his son knew what he was doing.  Nicholas whispered breathily into his ear.  "Master!  Father, take me!"

LaCroix groaned as his fangs descended.  Nicholas squirmed against him, licking his throat, arousing him and begging him, but the boy respectfully waited.  It was LaCroix's right, as ancient and master, to either grant his wish or deny him.  In one fluid movement LaCroix rolled on top of him, embracing and protecting, and plunged his fangs into the throat of his beloved son.  Nicholas bit him then, completing the circle.  His youthful essence filled LaCroix, as his more ancient blood soothed and satisfied his child.  They gave each other more than blood, more than love.  They gave one another forgiveness and acceptance.  LaCroix knew then that he would have to allow his son the freedom to be different.  In loosening the hold he had on him, he would receive the love and honor he craved.  

Nicholas was weakening.  LaCroix withdrew his teeth, allowing his son to suck a moment longer.  Then they parted.  LaCroix lay back with Nick curled tightly against his side, and Urs snuggled up against Nick.  They would have to get a bigger bed, LaCroix thought distractedly, so Natalie would be able to join them one day.  Then he sank into sleep.










Waltz in the Sky, 14a/14
By Lorelei Sieja



Evening came, and the loft was astir with sleepy, dislocated children.  They were irritable, as their routines had been disrupted, and they were as lost sheep.  LaCroix quickly hurried from the shower to bring peace among them before any of Nicholas's antiques were destroyed.

"Quiet!" he demanded, as he descended among them.  They scattered out of his way and their squabbling ceased.  LaCroix opened the refrigerator and passed around the mortal blood he had shipped there for Urs.  

"The hunters are dead," he repeated, to remind them of their debt to him.  "Tonight you will clean the Raven, and you may stay there if you have no other place to sleep."  He sensed grumbling from a few, but none dared to voice it.  He nodded regally.  Age had its privileges.  He went one step further and telephoned the precinct for Nicholas, asking to speak with Captain Reese.

"I understand," the captain replied.  "I'm just grateful that no one was seriously injured in last night's blaze.  Tell Nick we've taken the fire under investigation, and I'll let him know if anything comes up."

LaCroix smiled.  They would find nothing, and no one.  Caspian was too old to make mistakes.  "Thank you, Captain," he answered agreeably, just as Nick came down the stairs.

His son glared at him briefly.  

LaCroix held his glare without apology.  Nick broke off and turned away.  Then the master addressed him.  "I require your assistance tonight.  Your captain is very understanding."

"Fine," Nick shrugged.  He was too tired to go to work, anyway.  Today had passed all too quickly.  

"Come here," LaCroix demanded.  He fought down a fear that his son would again defy him, while hoping that Nicholas had finally learned a thing or two.  

Nick stretched and gave a toothy yawn.  LaCroix loved him like this, sensual, passionate, and utterly clueless.  His undead heart beat twice as the boy obeyed and came to him.  Nick hesitated only a moment, then embraced him, and laid his head against the ancient's breast.

"Are you fully recovered," LaCroix asked hoarsely.

"Uh-huh," Nick answered sleepily.

LaCroix placed a chaste kiss on his head then broke off the embrace.  "Come, children," he called the vampires.  "Time to get to work."



Nick stared at the gutted remains of Janette's Raven and felt a heaviness settle around his heart.  Everything was charred black with soot and soaking wet.  The fire department had given it a thorough dunking.  He turned a circle, not knowing where to begin and feeling overwhelmed already.

Urs took charge.  She brought out the shop-vacs and set two volunteers to vacuuming up the water.  Opening the back door to the alley, she directed the rest to begin heaving out the debris.  Two waitresses and Patrick were to sort out the undamaged bloodwine and wash ash and soot from the bottles.  Nicholas and Vachon sorted the tables and chairs that were repairable, and began to clean them up.  The damaged windows had been replaced that afternoon, but she went around with a razor blade to scrape off the gluey labels, and then washed them down with vinegar.  The vampires listened to her, not because of her age or authority, but because of her quiet, unassuming take-charge attitude, and she seemed to know just what needed to be done.  

LaCroix came down periodically to check on their progress, and he piped his radio station into the room so they could have music to clean by.  He gave only a brief talk tonight, in which he discussed the fire, and how the club would be closed indefinitely until the repairs were completed.  That started a call-in session, as countless mortals needed to share their experiences of loss from fires.  He was about ready to puke from their angst-filled confessions.  He brought it to an abrupt halt with a sardonic sense of humor as he stacked the CDs to play: Scotland's Burning, Burn Bright My Baby, You Light My Fire, and half a dozen more numbers of the same theme.  He smiled as he heard the busy vampires in the next room singing along the words of fire and flame while cheerfully cleaning up the ash.  They sounded very happy; Nicholas must have offered free drinks again.  That his son could afford it was no matter; he was pleased that Nicholas seemed contented among his own kind again.

He heard Natalie's car approach and went to greet her.  She was attractively dressed in a peach colored sweater and crème pants, and wore just a trace of peach perfume.  He inhaled, savoring her delicious mix of scents.  Nick jumped up to greet her, grinning from ear to ear as he extended a hand to shake that was covered in soot.  

"You're not dressed very good for working," Nick said lightly.

LaCroix stood behind her tensely, worrying if the inevitable moment of confrontation had arrived already.  Natalie just laughed.  "I'm not here to clean, Nick," she answered, and stepped past him.  

Tracy tugged on Nick's sleeve, distracting him.  "Nick?  Do you think this if fixable?" she asked, wobbling a chair's leg for him to see.  While he turned to answer her, LaCroix lead Natalie away, picking his way through the mess.  

Nick glanced up at Nat, and noticed LaCroix's hand on the small of her back.  He frowned, unsure what it meant.

Tracy tugged on his sleeve again.  "Nick.  She's not jealous about Urs anymore.  Can you let her find her own happiness?"

"But LaCroix's not in love with her, is he?"  Nick asked softly.

"I think he is," Tracy said.  "And I don't think he's doing this just to piss you off.  I think he's loved her all along, and that's why he's tormented you so for the past few years."

Nick closed his eyes and reached out tentatively, half-afraid of what he would find.  LaCroix sensed his son's presence and permitted it.  Nick felt love and concern from him.  Love for Nicholas, concern how he would react, and passion for Miss Lambert, along with resignation that she would not become a vampire for some time.  Nick wondered about his own feelings.  Natalie was just a friend.  A very special friend.  Someone to watch videos with, and to ask advice.  Someone to share confidences.  But, as he watched Urs wipe the chandeliers, and the soft curves of her hips sway on the wobbly stool, he felt intense desire for her.  It was Urs he loved.  He strengthened the bond with his master.  "Have a pleasant evening, LaCroix," he thought.  Then LaCroix gently closed their bond.  Nick smiled.  



Natalie touched the piano in LaCroix's living room, trying to understand more about him through his home.  "Do you play?" she asked.

"No," he answered.  "I purchased that recently for Nicholas to use when he visits."

She nodded, and continued to observe the Spartan furnishings.  It was dark, like Nick's loft, but it was barren of the many treasures Nick collected.  There were two paintings on the walls- she recognized Nick's style in them.  The furniture was black leather but comfortable.  They must clean up well from bloodstains, she mused.  There were many candles set around the room, all lit, and soft music coming from the CD player.  There wasn't much of LaCroix here at all.  

"I would have thought that after 2000 years you'd have collected more trinkets," she said.

LaCroix shrugged indifferently.  "I'm not sentimental about inanimate objects, my dear.  The only thing I want with me when I leave are my children."

Her eyes fell then on the strange stringed instrument.  "You play this, don't you," she said, remembering the times she'd heard it's music over LaCroix's radio station.  She hadn't known what it was, but guessed it was similar to a viola- deeper sounding than the violin, and a little melancholy.  "Will you play it for me?"

"Some other night, perhaps," he said vaguely.  "Would you like to dine?"

"You cook?" she blurted with surprise.

LaCroix's eyebrows shot upwards and a disdainful sneer flicked across his patrician features.  "Absolutely not.  I ordered take-out."

Natalie almost laughed, but caught herself.  She didn't want to insult her host.  The smell of hot Chinese was making her mouth water.  Nick had ordered her Chinese before, too.  Was the scent of ginger tolerated easier than Italian foods with their predominant garlic sauce?  

LaCroix held her chair for her, then joined her at the small table elegantly set with fine china, crystal goblets, and rose-shaped candles floating in a glass bowl.  She held her red wine, and waited as he lifted his glass.  She wondered if he would make a toast, but he just stared at her for a moment, his expression almost hungry, then he smiled and drank.  Of course, toasting was too mortal a custom, she realized.  

But conversation was not.  LaCroix made excellent conversation, and she found she was enjoying herself more than she could ever remember.  Whether anything came of this or not, she knew the time they shared together was special.  





Waltz-PG 14b/14




The cleaning was boring.  Nick lost interest, as he yawned a few times.  He drank plenty, and was feeling sleepy and contented.  His hands were black with charcoal, his clothing was smudged, and he tried hard not to breathe, as the ash was unpleasant in his lungs.  

The vampire strays were still working, but they too seemed to be running out of steam.  Only Tracy was still bubbling along with her usual perky grin and childish enthusiasm.  Nick grinned and he picked up a small handful of ash.  When she bent to pick something up, he sprinkled the ash over her.  

She didn't seem to notice, so he did it again and again.  She brushed it out of her hair, and sneezed when it got in her mouth.  Finally, she looked up just as Nick dumped another handful.  "You!" she yelled.  

She lunged for him.  He wasn't really caught off guard, but he was laughing pretty hard.  He fell back onto the charred dance floor, and she landed on top of him.

"You are such a brat!" she said, grabbing a handful of ash and rubbing it into his hair.

Nick coughed as some of the ash went into his mouth, then he rolled her over and pinned her down.  "I'd rather be a brat than a baby," he teased, stuffing ash inside her shirt.

"Nick!  Stop!  Don't!" she screamed, struggling uselessly beneath him.

Vachon joined in, intending only to pull Nick off his lover, but Urs dumped a clump of crud down his back.  Within seconds the entire club was pandemonium as the other vampires joined in the ash-fight.  Anything was more interesting than the boring clean-up task.  



LaCroix heard the racket downstairs build, but tried to ignore it until the sounds were so loud that Natalie took notice.  

"Do you think they're all right?" she asked.

"The Natives are restless," he commented dryly.  "Wait here.  I will settle this."

As he descended the stairs, vampires that had been playfully fighting began to sense his approach and quickly returned to work.  All of them except two.  His children were still rolling around in the ash, oblivious to his presence.  He cleared his throat.  When they still did not respond, he spoke firmly.  "What is the meaning of this!"

Nick and Tracy got to their feet and faced him.  It was hard to tell who they were, as they were covered with black soot from their once golden hair to the soles of their shoes.  He sensed Tracy's fear and submission at once, but Nick was not afraid.  He stepped forward bravely, pulling Tracy behind him.  LaCroix smiled inwardly at Nick's action.  Once a knight... but then, he was not treating Tracy like his Lady-fair, but like his kid sister.

"I'm sorry, LaCroix," Nicholas said.  "It is my fault.  I started it."

Tracy peeked around his shoulder, smiling up at LaCroix cautiously.  "Um, I'm sorry, too," she said.  "But I couldn't let him get away with it.  He dumped ash in my hair!"

Nicholas turned towards her and brushed at her hair, wiping the ash off her face with blackened, grubby hands.  The gesture was sweet and loving, even if it was rather fruitless.  LaCroix felt a hard lump in his throat, as he sensed his son.  

Tracy was the missing part in Nick's life!  It wasn't Natalie, or Urs, or even LaCroix.  He had been missing his little sister!  LaCroix replaced his mortal father long ago, and somehow, Natalie had become more motherly towards him, even if he didn't quite realize it yet.  He was surrounded by friends- mortal and vampire- and he had a home.  But now that he had Tracy to love, to tease, to protect, as he had done for Fleur for most of his mortal years, his life was once again complete.  Why hadn't LaCroix ever thought of that before?

Nicholas turned back towards him then, waiting.  He must have half expected to be knocked down, or at least to be scolded.  LaCroix saw the familiar stance, yet his son's face was not angry or defiant.  His children really were very amusing together.  "I must be getting old," LaCroix thought to himself.  

"You will wash up elsewhere," he admonished them, "before you set foot upstairs."

They nodded in unison.  Then LaCroix surprised them both by just leaving.  Being old definitely had its advantages, he thought, as he sensed their confusion.  Natalie had waited for him at the top of the stairs and greeted him with a smile.  

"Are you getting soft?" she whispered, a teasing grin on her face.

"Sh-sh.  Don't tell anyone," he answered.  He changed the CDs then to play the waltzes of Johann Strauss.  He made a courtly bow, then took Natalie's hands and stepped into a waltz.  She moved into his arms and danced.  He was pleasantly surprised- not many still knew how to waltz.

"Nick taught me this a few years ago," she said.  "I dragged him to my cousin's wedding, and he said he'd only go if I would waltz with him."

LaCroix nodded.  How like his son.  But would he always come up when LaCroix was with Natalie?  She moved closer, leaning her head against his breast as they waltzed.  LaCroix closed his eyes and he swirled through the open living room.  Perhaps not.  She was here with him now, while Nicholas was slaving away downstairs.  LaCroix felt a lightness in his step that he hadn't felt in a long time.  

Natalie  noticed they were flying as her feet no longer made contact with the floor.  LaCroix held her firmly, continuing to dance the broad, sweeping waltz, even as he rose towards the ceiling.  Pushing aside the skylight with one hand, he brought her out onto the roof and beyond.

Natalie stared at him.  She saw his eyelashes resting on pale cheeks and softly illumined from the amber eyes behind closed lids.  Snow was falling silently in the still night.  She felt the wet flakes kiss her cheeks and arms, and wished she had a coat, but she wouldn't break the spell of the dance for anything.  His arms were around her protectively, and there was no breeze.  

The music grew more faint and they danced ever higher up, until Natalie wondered if even LaCroix could still hear it.  The city of Toronto was very small now.  It looked clean and bright, the many city lights looking like strings of tiny Christmas lights in a porcelain village.  

Suddenly LaCroix stopped.  His eyes opened and he looked almost embarrassed.  "You are cold," he stated sheepishly.

"Oh, please don't take me back yet," Natalie said.  "It is so beautiful up here!"

LaCroix closed his mouth before he spoke his surprise.  So Nicholas had never taken her flying before?  Perhaps, they never were as close as he had assumed they were.  He felt strangely pleased that he was the first to share this experience with her.  

She shivered, and loosened a button on his shirt to lay her icy cheeks against his cool chest.  LaCroix felt his fangs slip at her nearness.  She looked up at him and smiled.

The face of the vampire had once frightened her.  Now she found it strangely erotic.  Lucien did not turn from her, or look embarrassed.  He was proud of his existence, and in control of himself.  It wasn't that she wasn't afraid of him hurting her, only that she knew he would never do something in a moment of weakness, for that would never occur.  Her lips parted and her face lifted to meet his, as they moved together.

His lips were no colder than hers were right now.  His tongue met hers.  Her breath caught and she no longer felt the cold.  Then, even though she was high above the ground, she released her tight hold on him and gently caressed his face, knowing he would protect her.  

"My dear Natalie," he breathed, and the dance resumed.  In wide, sweeping movements, he swirled her to the phantom strains of a waltz as all life below continued oblivious of the joy she knew.



The End.