There is no more thirst for blood, and no more drive to kill. Nick Knight has changed - he is mortal. After seeing what he did to Natalie with his final vampire kiss, an unexpected transformation occurred. Now, if LaCroix can save Natalie and if Nick can be mortal, would he still want to die? Destiny has stepped in. Nick can have mortality, but at the cost of Natalie's memory of him and his soul. Can her loss of memory change their preordained love? Some things never change as Nick and the others are about to discover in this unforeseen turn of fate.

The goal of this story was to fill in a gap. Almost five years has passed since the making of "Last Knight," the final episode. If this series were to return with the original actors, then some means to explain their maturity would be necessary. With Nick's conversion to mortality and his time spent living in the mortal world, the series could resume in 2001 with Nat still searching for a cure for the vampire that she loves. For those of you who like to know, this is a NICK and NAT story, along with some very key appearances from LaCroix, Vachon, Reese, and Urs. It is time for Nick to resume his quest for mortality. We have come full circle.

This story is dedicated to love, and to the belief that destiny has chosen someone for each of us. We may not understand the paths that fate might take us, but as long as we do not give up hope - love will find a way. As always, this is for my husband Neil, who is my special love, and for everyone who has either found or will one day find that exceptional someone who is meant to be forever a part of them.

A heartfelt thanks to my beta reader, Rosemary, who despite an unrelentless schedule, took on the additional burden of proof-reading this story. She has saved me from many embarrassing mistakes, and has made this much more enjoyable for all of you to read. In a perfect world, all beta readers would receive awards for their kind work.

Archive Permission: Permission to archive to Mel's FKFanfic Archive, the FK FTP site, and to the CotK site is granted. All others must ask permission.

This story is copyrighted by me. Please send all comments to, GwennM@hotmail.com.

The loft's window blinds were fully opened, allowing every last ray of the sunset to filter into his home and lay unshielded against the walls and floor. To him each sunrise and every sunset had been a show that rivaled any fireworks display. However, the sun had already dropped down over the horizon, and only the mix of darkening colors was left in its path. Methodically, he moved towards his old remote and aimed it at the windows. It was just as he had thought, the batteries had long since expired. Reaching across the table that stood against his sofa, he pulled a recently purchased package of batteries from a small plastic bag and began to unwrap them. After inserting the fresh batteries, he made another attempt to have the remote close the blinds. The new supply of energy worked well, and the blinds came to an abrupt stop as they touched the windowsill. The next step would be to check the refrigerator one more time for provisions. Even though he had spent most of the prior day clearing it of all mortal food and restocking it with several bottles of fresh blood, he needed the list of things to check as a distraction. Opening the refrigerator slowly, he wished that somehow he would not have to face the sea of green bottles that seemed to be his ever-present companions. As he held open the refrigerator's door, he took note that the light had burned out. However, there was no need to replace it, in his world seeing in the dark posed no obstacles. And what would it matter anyway, one bottle of steer blood or another? What difference would it really make?

Crossing the room, he again picked up the remote and pressed the button to allow the blinds to open fully. It was dark now, and there was not much time left. For the first time in five years, he felt calm. Yes, it was calmness that he felt now, what a strange sensation at a time like this. Of all the possible emotions, he would never have guessed that it would be tranquility that would possess his feelings. How could he feel so composed at a time like this? No, this was not calm, this was resignation. There was no way out, and so he had prepared himself well for the unwelcome event that was soon to occur. The time had come to surrender, just as he had always known it would. It was not a weakness that permitted his passivity, but his strength that caused him to harden himself for what lay in store.

The loft apartment was becoming increasingly dark. He found the matches and began to light several of the half-burned down candles. Out of the side of his eye, a light that he had neglected to turn off caught his attention and he moved towards it. While reaching in to flip down the switch, he caught a glimpse of his reflection. The image of himself motivated him to move closer to the glass and examine what he had become. Stepping close to the mirror, he looked hard at the figure that was cast back at him. The silvery glass gave forth an image of an older man. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and a shallow wrinkle streaked across his forehead. His hair was not as vibrant with color and even his body seemed to be shaped differently then he had remembered. Had all this happened in five short years? Or was it more than just the weight of mortal time that had given rise to such changes? Bending closer towards the mirror, he unconsciously began to run his fingers over the now unfamiliar features. Aging did not sadden him; In fact, he liked the look of trials and tribulations that stared back at him from the glass. After all, if anyone had earned the look of a hard life, then he had. A smile crept across his lips. The face that looked back was that of his mortal father. Never before had he realized how much like him he really looked. The smile faded quickly as he recalled what would soon transpire, and the distraction of the mirror swiftly vanished. Turning towards the bathroom door, he extinguished the light as he walked out into the main area of the loft.

Gazing across the room, he could almost feel the stereo's radio beckoning him to listen to the advice that had guided him his entire eternal life. It could not be avoided. The force that had enslaved him centuries ago now longed to find its comfort through the sound of his eternal father's voice. He snapped the radio on before finding a comfortable place on the sofa to sit and listen. The familiar sound of the elder vampire's words flowed soothingly from the speakers. On this most extraordinary night, his master spoke as if he were at peace with the world. Nicholas's heart quickened at the distant radio wave's reverberations, which emanated from the man that each night poured his philosophies onto the city of Toronto. Lightly, he closed his eyes, and let the utterances of this being vibrate through his memories. This ancient voice was more a part of him then the sound of his own voice. As much as this man's comments disturbed him, they also satisfied and quieted him. Within the hour, the sound that now filled his loft would fill his head with renewed visions of immortality. It was time to come home, and he was ready. The promise of five years had not been betrayed. LaCroix had not in any way tried to deceive him, and now it was his turn to display his integrity. Although it was time to relinquish all that had been bestowed upon him; he did not regret one past moment. In his very long lifetime, he had always held close to the fact that he would try to do the proper thing. And the correct act now was to accept the consequences of his actions without opposition, to bravely face the future like the knight he had started out to be in a far away time.

As he sat engrossed in past dreams, his attention was suddenly drawn back towards the radio as his father's tone changed. Each word became more enunciated and Nick was cognizant that these new remarks were directed at him. There was no point in resisting, and he sat back and rested his heavy head against the coolness of the leather sofa.

"And now let us turn our attentions to a seldom discussed topic around here. Let us contemplate the virtue of honor. How is it that a man is considered honorable? What determines whether a person is considered worthy of respect, or to be held in high regard? Although reputable thoughts are most desired, it is the actions of an individual that proclaim him to be one of integrity. And what better way to demonstrate one's character than through commitment. Commitment? Why commitment? The answer is so crystal clear that I am certain that it does not escape you listeners. A commitment is giving one's word. A personal pledge that one will honor an agreement that he has made. What is more precious to a man than his word? What gives more honor to the character of a man then the keeping of that word? Nothing! A man's word is everything. Without it, he has no dignity, no respect, and most of all, no honor. Live up to your part of the bargain, and never doubt the knight that you profess yourself to be. Your time to prove yourself worthy approaches. Do not disappoint me!"

Sitting up, Nicholas took in a deep breath to brace himself. All that LaCroix had mentioned was correct. They had struck a bargain, and it was time to reimburse the one he was indebted to. LaCroix had held to his part of the deal and now it was payment time. Did his father think that he would try to escape restitution and run away? Or was he merely reminding his son of the type of person that he was, cautioning him to recall his innate virtues? Yes, it was only a warning to accept with dignity that which he had every intention of fulfilling already. He had given his word, and his master was well aware that his son would never withdraw from his responsibility. This was his duty, and he would not ever forget it.

Rising from the sofa, he slowly approached the darkened glass of his window. Tonight he did not wish to look down at all the bustle of life that paraded outside his building each evening. Tonight he only wanted to spend his last few moments staring out into the vast heavens. Could it be that his eight hundred years had not diminished in the least his love of the stars? There was always beauty to rediscover in the world, and it really did not take much to find it. Life was beautiful, and he had more than his share. Each life was important, and he never had known that more than until this moment. If only he had been more careful of Natalie's life when she had put all her faith in him. Her life was so precious that the vampire had desired all of her, not wishing to take just a little at a time. It was his actions of relying solely on emotion that had brought them all to this point in time. Until, Natalie's near death each night had been as the night before. Gliding through the centuries fueled by the lifeblood of others, he had forgotten the richness of mortality. He had failed to remember the feelings of thoughts that were not provided for him by another's blood. Not even the most exotic of another's experience rivaled his own sensations that he could now appreciate first hand. What he felt now was life, and to be able to participate in all it had to offer was indescribable. An ancient feeling began to stir within him as the sounds of LaCroix's bow floating across the strings of his pear shaped fiddle emptied into a loft that was already filled with memories. As his resolve hardened his heart, his vision began to blur and he again contemplated his future. Each of his master's notes called to him, strained at his soul. A force that even defied his mortal body's resistance to change. This was the worst pain of all, knowing the hold by which LaCroix dominated him, a force that tore through all barriers. There would never be any escape; his five years as a mortal had taught him that. As long as he lived and whatever form his body would take, he would forever be the possession of this two thousand-year-old vampire. He would always be the slave to the entity that now trifled with his soul as effortlessly as he played the antique instrument.

Pulled by memories, he turned towards the source of the sounds that now beckoned him, and a defeated smile crossed his lips. Again it was peace that now overcame him, and he wondered why there did not come any desire to run. The music emanating from the rebec lay heavy in the air, and his eyes shifted towards the carpet by the fireplace. It had been five years ago today that he had struck this deal for him to return to the fold, an agreement that he willingly sought. Tonight LaCroix would come to seal the pact that had allowed him to sell his soul for yet the second time.

A cold evening spring breeze forced its way through a small crack in the window, and he took in the scent with its promise of new life, into his lungs. The chill from it permeated his body as the deep breath expanded his chest. How good it felt to feel the breath of life inside him, how miraculous even the mortal act of respiration was. It was unusually cold for this time of year, but the last stings of winter's bitter winds were something he desired to hold onto tenaciously. Soon, there would be no more sensation of cold or of heat; soon there would be only the timeless emptiness of immortality.

His gaze stood riveted to the place on the floor where he had watched her fall and look so lifeless, no movement and so cold. There had been so little of her life that he had left, hardly a breath left in her mouth. He raked the fingers of one hand through his hair trying to sooth his head from the echoing sounds of eternity laughing at his futile actions. With the melody of his soon to be master's distant forgotten tune still swirling and lurking in his brain, he brought back the images of the night five years ago that had set the stage for the play that must now end.

***Flashback-1996***

Natalie briefly closed her eyes and smiled as she filled her lungs with the fragrant spring air. Looking up at the paling sky, she watched the mix of sunset's colors as the night approached. As the wall of darkness fell, the evening's darkness made the ivory moon seem to shine brighter. Being able to partake of this rare indulgence to just relax and enjoy the world around her was a long overdue luxury that she consciously promised herself to do more often. The stripped branches on the trees were beginning to form tiny buds, and the first of the perennial bushes had already begun to display their blossoming splendor. The wind felt cooler now as the sun had left the sky, and she pulled her lightweight coat tighter together as she settled back against the park bench. Children's voices and laughter pierced the air as their Mother's gathered them together to prepare them for the trip back to their homes. She closed her eyes again, listening to the youthful protests to stay in the play area for just a few moments longer. A squeaky wheel from a stroller passed by, and the contented sounds of an infant cooing, caused her eyes to reopen. With the baby carriage already past, she strained her neck to try and capture a quick glance of the tiny life, but was only able to see the movement of a lightweight colorful blanket. The darkness deepened around her, and a spring breeze carried the scent of lilacs past her. Scanning the park, she located the source of the flowers. Their aroma so enticing she knew that she could not resist moving closer to the bushes that seemed to overflow with the delicate purple blossoms. As she stood up and pulled the strap of her purse over her shoulder, she realized how quiet everything had become and how alone she was. All the playful sounds of the children were gone, and only the movement of a rusty swing could be heard as a gentle wind pushed at it. The time had come for her to leave as well; it was almost time to begin the short walk to work for the graveyard shift. After a quick internal debate about whether she wanted to walk directly to work or walk a few extra meters to fill her senses with the magical scent of spring, and she found herself headed for the bushes. As she moved closer to the flowers, they seemed to fill her with their comforting sweetness. She was sure they could intoxicate her. A dreamy smile spread across her lips. If only she could capture the feeling of this peaceful park and its fragrances for all of time. As she drew near the bushes, she recognized how much taller they were than her, and that most of the flowers hung on the top branches. Not being discouraged, she reached up and pulled from where the blossoms gathered so she could bring the scent closer to her. With both hands now holding the branch tightly near her face, she sniffed at the delicious scent. Then suddenly she startled as sounds of twisting and crackling twigs seemed to come from deep within the shrubbery, and she began to release the flowers just as a strong arm reached through from the other side and held tightly to her wrist. She froze as the beautiful bush parted, and revealed a pair of eyes gleaming like live coals. Another strong arm then broke through the bush and grabbed her free arm, and she felt herself freeze from fright as she was drawn deep into the bushes. As the dense foliage surrounded her, she felt helpless to escape. All she could see were hungry burning eyes, all she could feel was the beast's hand against her neck as it slowly pushed back her hair then sunk it's long ravenous fangs into her neck.

Natalie awoke with a sudden start and a hoarse scream, and then worked at catching her breath. Her heart pounded so hard with fear that she felt it might push its way through her chest. Eyes wide with fright searched the interior of her bedroom, it had only been a bad dream; a nightmare. Slowly, she released the grip she held on her sheets that had her knuckles turning white. Trying to shed the leftover dream, she shook her head and began to reacquaint herself with her old and familiar surroundings. Now, as her mind grasped the notion that she was indeed awake and safe, her breathing finally adjusted to a longer deeper rhythm. As the last of her shallow breaths subsided, and her personal reassurances took hold, she began to ask herself questions about the terrifying images that her subconscious had just played out. What a strange dream! What could possibly possess her to dream of such horrors? It had all started out so nicely, but then recalling the last part of her dream; she reached up and touched her neck. Feeling confusion and pain as her fingers came in contact with the place the beast had bitten her in the dream; she winced from the soreness. Carefully, she began to run her hand over the affected area until the smoothness of her skin was met by two nice sized bumps that protruded almost five centimeters below her left ear. Stopped by the sensation of the matching swellings, she continued to examine them, running the tips of her fingers back and forth over their surface. Concern over the two bumps drove her to throw her feet towards the edge of the bed as she tried to stand. Her first attempt had her sitting back on the bed with her head spinning. Now, she was frightened. Horrible thoughts about what might be wrong with her raced through her head. After a moment her head cleared, and she again could feel the tight soreness coming from her neck. She didn't know what caused this pain, but it was obvious now why she had dreamed that she had been bitten on the neck. The dream was only a reflection of the injury or disease she was now experiencing. Feeling steady again, she cupped her hand over her sensitive wound, and slowly took the few steps towards the mirror on the dresser. With one hand giving her support, she leaned against the furniture while slowly using the other hand to pull back her disheveled brown curls so she could see the marks out of the side of her eyes. It was difficult to really get a good look, she moved closer to the mirror and stretched at the skin but that hurt more, and the tender area was released. From what she could see, the two marks looked red, they may have been infected. What was this on her? Had she done this to herself somehow? Touching and probing at the site was only making whatever it was worse, and she used the hand that was not steadying her to rub at her eyes and forehead. If only she could remember what she could have done to cause such a wound. With her eyes closed, her dream of the wild eyed monster came back to her causing her to shudder and to remind her to not leave her eyes closed for too long again. Lingering by the dresser for a moment, her eyes took in the sight of a crystal vase on the nightstand near her bed, filled with the wilted branches of several lilac cuttings. Understanding more now, she smiled at herself. Her dream was again making more sense. The smell from these flowers had also been incorporated into her nightmare. But in the dream, the flowers had been fresh; these were dying almost lifeless. Looking hard again at the flowers, she tried to recall how they got there. There was little water left in the vase, but the flowers were not wilting from lack of liquid, they were decaying from age. How long had they been there, and why couldn't she remember placing them near her? She should throw them away now before they invite more bad dreams, but she couldn't. As bad as they looked and whatever nightmares they might have summoned, for some unknown reason she knew the flowers were important to her. They represented something, even though what it was eluded her now. They were not a danger to her, they were a comfort. Having them made her feel as if everything would be all right, that she was safe. If she could only figure out that dream, it plagued her, it haunted her. Again, she was thinking about the dream, why was she still trying to figure out that dream? It was only a combination of things that her subconscious had created, now if only she could convince herself of that fact. A cool breeze caught her attention and her eyes moved from the vase to the window where the wind was now playfully pushing the lightweight drapes. Feeling spring's chilled air, she shivered and moved to pull down the sash. It was still daylight outside. It was too early to be waking up for work, and she could feel the weight of her lack of sleep. If she were not so exhausted right now, she would be calling her physician to discover the cause of those marks that were beginning to throb. Stumbling to the window with her last ounces of strength, she rapidly closed it and pulled the drapes close together. Her neck throbbed from her movements as she backed away from the now darkened opening. The pain from her neck began to ease up, but she wondered why the sun had seemed so bright as she unconsciously raised her hand to rub at the painful spots. Completely worn out, she backed towards her bed and sat down. Through her weakness and discomfort, she strained at her thoughts in vain to recover any memory. The dizziness returned, her mind felt like it was trapped in a fog, and nothing made sense. As she fought the urge to slip into unconsciousness, she slid her feet under the covers but did not lie down. There had to be an answer to all she was going through. If only she could remember the previous day, maybe if she concentrated hard enough it would come to her. However, in an instant, all concentration became lost as the door to her bedroom began to slowly swing into the room. The sound of it opening startled her, and she lost her breath to fear, as a young professional looking man walked in carrying a medical bag. Her eyes froze on him. He looked just as startled as she did, and she imagined that his expression must have mirrored her own. The surprise in his face turned into a smile as he watched her sitting up in the bed, and his voice brimmed with excitement as he spoke to her.

"Natalie, you're awake!"

In fear and anger, she released her words.

"How did you get in here? Who are you? What do you want?"

With great speed, it became apparent to him that his patient was very disoriented, and he did not continue to approach her. Staying still by the door, he tried to speak in the least aggressive voice he could think of. "Don't you remember me Natalie? I'm Mark Harmond from the University." His tone suddenly became light and jovial. "You know, the guy you always come to when you need to borrow the big microscope?"

Nat briefly closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, but then looked back again at him questioningly. "Why are you in my bedroom?"

Mark's eyes saddened. He had practically been living in her apartment for the past three days, taking care of her cat and her. Most of his week had been spent making sure she had taken in enough fluids from a straw to sustain her until she had recovered from this virus. Even though it was his best medical opinion that she should have been hospitalized, he seemed to be the only one of that mindset, so she remained in his care at home. Now after all his concern and diligent work, she made him feel like an intruder. Choosing each word carefully now, he tried to not let her hear the disappointment he felt.

"Natalie, Captain Reese had called me here to look after you. You've been very sick. We are still not sure what is wrong. You either have some unidentified strain of the flu or you were infected when you were bitten outside of Detective Knight's apartment building."

With her fear subsiding, she was no longer distracted, the pain to her neck returned, and she reached up to again touch the strange bumps. The dream and her loss of memory began to make her head swim again. Each word was a struggle to form as she looked over at Mark who began to move a little closer. "I've been sick? I am weak and tired. How long have I been sick?"

Being as professional as possible he attempted to answer her questions. "You had a high fever for over three days. You have been delirious. I really thought that the best place for you was the hospital, but the Captain insisted that you recover at home and that I remain with you with the help of some in home nurses. This whole set up has been against my advice, but the Captain said the department is paying for everything and that he had conferred with the hospital doctor that had helped Knight after he was shot."

Panic began to rise as the thought of three days with complete loss of time, seized her. Somewhere inside her came the strength to cry out. "Three days! That's not possible! I was just... I was just at work. Yes, I was just about to autopsy..." Her harsh tone broke, and tears began to slide down her cheeks. "Laura. Laura killed herself. How could I forget about Laura?"

He longed to go to her and to hold her now, but she still seemed too unaware of her recent past. It was time to explain as best he could the time that she had lost. He had to move slowly with her now, she was too fragile. "Natalie," he whispered her name. "You will remember. You have been really out of things because you were sick."

The sadness turned to irritation, and she glared at Mark and released her frustration on him. "What else? Why do you keep mentioning Detective Knight's name to me? Why would I be at his building?"

Her question tore at him; somehow, she was accusing him, blaming him. Swallowing his hurt, he bit at his lip and remained calm, knowing how sick she had been, how sick she still was. "Why were you at Knight's building? I'm afraid only you can answer that. No one seems to know for certain. A few down at the department figured that you had gone there to tell him about his partner's death. Captain Reese had called you at the Morgue, and had asked you to tell Knight if you saw him. That night no one was able to locate him, I guess you tried."

Natalie closed her eyes tightly, if only she could recall any of this. Everything seemed to hurt now as she repeated Mark's words in her mind. Knight's partner? Her eyes shot opened and her voice rang out. "Schanke!" Her word was only met by Mark's blank expression, and the shaking of his head. Suddenly as if she were pulling Mark's thoughts from him, she remembered, and her hand shot up to loosely cover her opened mouth. "No, his partner is Tracy, Tracy Vetter. She is dead? I can't remember! Why can't I remember?"

She heard herself sobbing lightly with her hand still covering her mouth. Her own cries sounded foreign to her, as if she were listening to someone else sob. Everything felt strange, and she was frightened. Pulling her knees up close to her chest, she cried into the sheets with both hands tenaciously clutching the covers as if to save her from falling. Falling, that was the word that best described how she felt. She felt as if she were spiraling out of control towards earth from a plane. Hearing Mark call her name, she looked up at him through swollen eyes. Mark lay a box of tissues by her side and handed her a few, and she smiled at him, surprising herself as well as him. Suddenly he seemed to be a comfort, and that felt good. As her tears dried, he spoke to her.

"Try to calm down Natalie. You are still recovering from all that your body has been through." He moved towards the window as he continued to speak reassuringly to her. "A little more rest, and some fresh air, and you'll be back to the normal Natalie."

Seeing where he was headed she unexpectedly screamed out. "NO!" Stunned, Mark turned to face her and she settled down. "Please don't. I don't want any light. It's too bright."

Worried, he studied her for a moment as he thought about her overreaction. It would not be wise to upset her. If she did not want the light then he would honor her request. They stared at each other for a long moment as if in competition. Finally, he broke their silence. "The light sensitivity. It must be a side effect of the fever. I'm sure it will be gone in a few days."

A cautious smile formed on Natalie's lips as she listened to what he was saying. His words made sense, but she was not sure at all that she would ever feel comfortable in the light again. She knew the thoughts she was having were irrational, but this was a feeling from deep within her. It almost felt like instinct. Somehow, she knew that the light was harmful. It did not make sense; maybe it was from the fever, but for now the light was to be avoided. Maybe one day she would understand why, but she knew she could never express her thoughts to a soul. They would never understand, maybe she would never as well. As she dwelled on the thought of never being in the light again, it was impossible to not feel the pressure from Mark's stare now and she quickly changed the subject away from the light issue.

"Mark?" She gestured towards the dying spray of flowers. "Where did the flowers come from?"

He didn't have to look over to where she pointed. He had been looking at them for endless hours as she had slept. Still standing near the bed, he told all he knew of their presence. "I thought you had put them there Natalie. I didn't want to remove them. They were here when I first arrived."

A nervous smile fluttered across her mouth then faded as she spoke. "I dreamt about them. It was a horrible dream. A beast attacked me. It pulled me into the bushes, and it bit me. It seemed so real." There had been no plan to disclose this dream to anyone, but it all seemed to pour out of her. It needed to be told, but she found herself starting to shake. Mark had seen her quiver too and he tried to redirect her attention.

"It wasn't real, Natalie. Something did bite you, we know that. Probably after you became unconscious outside the detective's building. We cleaned and checked the bite; it was harmless unless it is the cause of your infection now. It was lucky that Detective Knight found you when he did or whatever took a bite at you might have come back and done more damage."

That name again, Knight. There was something so familiar about it, actually more than familiar. It touched her deep inside; it made things make sense. But that couldn't be, especially now. Nothing made sense now. She looked up into Mark's hopeful and worried eyes. "Where is Detective Knight? Has he been here too?"

Feeling more confident now, Mark slid closer to the bed and sat down next to Nat as he spoke. "I haven't seen him." Not wishing to upset her by the detective's lack of concern, he offered what he thought was a valid reason for the detective not being around. "Hey, I'm sure he is been inundated with the guys from Internal Affairs. With his partner's death and him being right there... Well, you know that they can be pretty rough. But I'll tell him you asked about him."

A longing tugged at her heart when she heard that the detective had not been by to see her. There was no way to explain the feeling to herself. She could hardly remember this person that she had worked with and that had now saved her. All that was inside her was emptiness, a hollow space large enough for her to crawl into if she could. Loneliness was tearing away at her insides. Mark was right there, but she knew he could never fill the void that she had somehow come to acquire in the past few days. Feeling helpless and tired, she gave Mark a quick smile. "Thank you Mark, and thank the detective for me. I wish I could remember everything, but all that is filling my mind is nothingness. Can you understand that? Everything seems to be blocked by a huge wall inside my brain. It's frightening."

Responding to her troubled words, Mark pulled her into his arms. "Things will come back to you slowly. You just need to give yourself some time."

Nat tried to relax in his arms, but felt stiff. "Thanks Mark. I feel so stupid. I feel helpless and so scared."

As he held her tighter, tears began to fill her eyes then spill over onto his shoulder. He didn't feel her stiffness, only how wonderful it was to finally have her so close to him. Her body began to feel heavy in is arms. It would not be long until sleep would overtake her again. Softly he whispered in her ear as he lovingly pet her long hair. "You will be fine Natalie. I can stay with you for as long as you want. Everything is all right. Soon things will be as they were before. Rest now. Try to rest now."

Her soft grieving sobs began to fade as her words turned into a hushed unintelligible murmur and she drifted to sleep. Gently he lowered her head onto the pillow then pulled the light covers over her. He watched as her breathing fell into a deep and regular rhythm, he watched and he smiled. Here by his side slept the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Even her tears were as precious as diamonds. They still glistened and sparkled against the color of her flesh on her cheeks. With love, he reached over and lightly, so as not to wake her, rubbed a finger across her face to remove the few lingering teardrops. Sitting silently beside her, he decided that he would not go home today, and leave her with one of the nurses. If she were to awake again with her reoccurring nightmare of the beast, then she would find him there to hold her securely. Protecting her from the demons of her subconscious was the least he could do. The past few days he had been little more than a nurse's aide, while he patiently had waited for her to recover. He had been acting as a companion to her because he could do little more. His degree in medicine and his Ph.D. in Cytogenetics could offer no explanation as to why this delicate woman struggled with this mystery illness. Something was obviously wrong, yet by all tests and examinations she appeared to be normal. Leaning over, he picked up her hand that had escaped the covers of the bed. Finding the warm smooth spot on her wrist, he counted each beat of her heart through the thin skin. It beat slow and strong, just as it should and just as it had been since he had begun to take care of her. Daringly, he allowed his hand to slide down towards her limp fingers, and his own fingers naturally intertwined, then tightened around hers. His eyes followed the actions of his hand, and he found it impossible to let go of the soft warm skin, lost in the immersion. In all the years that they had known each other professionally, he had adored her from afar. Always wishing that one-day, she would find him more interesting then his expensive microscope. A short laugh escaped him as he realized that he was jealous of a mechanical tool. So many hours had been spent in his lab with her gazing into the scope while he gazed at her. As he reminisced, she stirred in her sleep. Still he refused to relinquish her hand; instead, his gaze fell to her face. With her eyes moving rapidly under her eyelids, he knew she was again dreaming. A smile flashed briefly across her sleeping features. Maybe this time she would dream of him, of them. However, he knew better than to believe in miracles. In all her dreams, she would start out smiling, but that would always be followed by her screaming out in her sleep until someone would awaken her. And each time she would speak of a beast, a vision that she could not erase. The dream had to mean something, and at his first chance, he would speak with the head of the department of psychology at the University. As her hand shook in his, he felt her pulse begin to rise as she began her disturbing dream. Maybe this was her personal battle. Some unresolved conflict that she kept trying to free herself of, some unfinished business. His hand squeezed tightly around hers. If only he could help her. How he wished she would let him into her life.

Startling suddenly to the harsh deep sound of a man clearing his throat behind him, he turned his attention back across the room towards the doorway. Mark wondered how long Captain Reese had been standing there while he was too enthralled with his patient.

"Ahem...Dr. Harmond."

Remembering that he had Natalie's hand in his and how it must look, he immediately released her and moved to his feet. Feeling very awkward and embarrassed, he grappled for the words to explain himself. "Captain Reese. I was taking Nat... Dr. Lambert's pulse."

Reese smiled and nodded. "Relax doctor. I didn't see anything. You have been doing a wonderful job at caring for her. The department owes you a tremendous debt of gratitude for all the time you have been putting in. I just came by to see if there has been any improvement."

With Reese's words came a sigh of relief, and Mark enthusiastically reported to the Captain. "There has been Captain, and you just missed it. She was awake! Much more awake than she has been in the past few days. But she still does not remember many things, and it frightens her. She even told me more about her nightmare."

"Damn! She's still having that bad dream! How much longer will that keep happening?"

Turning his head towards her, Mark gazed at the dreaming vision before him, knowing that it would not be long before the terrifying part of the dream would take hold of her. As he prepared to rouse her from her relentless nightmare, he watched her agitated sleep and directed his words towards Reese. "I wish I had that answer for you. I wish I had that answer for all of us. I plan on consulting with a top doctor in the field as soon as I feel she is more stable." Mark moved to wake her as the last of his words fell from his lips, to save her once again from her dreams. He was sure that he could feel the battle that she now waged, inside of him, as well. There she lay helpless before him, fighting off faceless demons that only she saw. Quickly he sat at the edge of the bed and gently shook her and called out her name. His actions caused her to settle down, and for the eye movement to cease. With her breathing again regulated, Mark silently turned to face Reese.

"She is improving. Just twelve hours ago, it would have taken two people to hold her down and twenty minutes to settle her."

Reese rubbed his forehead as he slowly shook his head. "Whatever you say doctor. Well, I just stopped by to see if there was anything I could do and I passed the day nurse on the way in. So, why don't you go home and get some rest? I really do appreciate all you have done here."

"Thank you Captain, but I'll be staying the day. She's finally waking up from wherever it is that she's been trapped, and I want to be here for her. You can tell the nurse to come in, but I will be here if there is any change in her condition." Turning to leave with thoughts of speaking with the nurse, Reese suddenly stopped in his tracks then turned back to face Mark. "Oh Dr. Harmond, I almost forget, I have a very anxious detective that keeps asking about Doctor Lambert's condition. He has been overwhelmed by what seems to be no less than a team of inquisition experts over the Commissioner's daughter's death. He has not left the Precinct since the night this all happened. What should I tell him?"

"Tell him that she is going to be fine, and that even though she has no memory of what happened to her, she wishes to thank him for all he has done."

"Thanks Doctor, I'll tell him. I only hope he listens to me. He seems to be in a different world, even more than he usually is." Reese grinned at the notion that it was possible for his detective to be even more lost to his own thoughts. He shook his head in amazement, then made eye contact again with Mark. "Okay then Doctor, I leave her in your hands and I'll send in the nurse on my way out. And try and get some rest too, you'll need it if you want to help her through this."

"I know Captain, and I will." He smiled. "Thanks for coming by, and Captain...thanks for letting me be the one to take care of her."

Reese smiled back. "Glad you could help us out."

Without a final look at the most professional Coroner, that he had ever been privileged to work with, Captain Reese stepped through the bedroom door while making plans to stop and check up on his prize detective before returning home to his waiting family.

--------

Lonely and vacant eyes stared out the barred windows of the precinct's conference room. As he stood near the opening, the first rays of the early morning sun blanketed him. Standing in this warm glow should have been the ultimate joy, the blessing to end all blessings. It should have been, but as he stood there, he hardly even noticed it.

He had been granted an unexpected gift of light when he had nearly destroyed the only woman who had understood and accepted all that he was. Everything that he had ever dreamed possible had now come true, he was mortal. No longer need he fear the warm rays of the sun, no longer did the barely containable beast demand blood, and no longer must he accept that love and a family were beyond his reach. All of humanities physical and spiritual essence now coursed throughout him, but he felt lost. There he stood in the light after nearly eight centuries of a self imposed darkness prison, yet no rush of joyful emotions emerged. Both day and night brought no pleasure now, he was a captive to them both. What benefit was this miraculous cure, without his love to share it with him? For decades, he had searched to realize this moment, and now he only felt empty. Without Natalie to partake in his transformation, everything that he had once valued was now insignificant.

Sighing heavily, he turned from the window and moved towards the long rectangular table that took up most of the space in the small room. The Shooting Review Board team would be back from their coffee break soon. He stared down at his own untouched Styrofoam cup filled with the dark brown liquid. Even with his lust for blood gone, he still could not imagine drinking this brew. He had seen the way others had consumed endless amounts, and there was no reason to start any new addictions. Anyway, the cup's contents had grown cold hours ago. Hopefully, he would remember to ask for some tea the next time anyone asked. With food being so new to him, tea was the only tolerable drink, which his stomach could handle. The sunlight's bleaching rays filled the room, making him feel the heat and a little uncomfortable. He removed his sports coat that he had brought with him nearly three days ago, and unconsciously hung it around the back of one of the wooden chairs. His chair actually, the same simple wooden chair that he occupied on and off for over seventy-two hours. He had not been back to the loft where Nat had almost died since that night. The night he had foolishly acted on his emotions, the night that would haunt him eternally.

Nick slowly walked the length of the table sliding one hand along its slick worn surface as he again crossed the room. A bitter yet accepting smile momentarily crossed his lips. LaCroix had been correct, the more things change the more they do remain the same. In a few short days, his most recent incarnation of a homicide detective, and all his mortal relationships, had undergone drastic change. Everyone he had come to know and love were no longer here or no longer the same, yet in his heart and soul he remained unchanged. After tragically loosing his last partner Schanke, he was certain that he would never allow another partner to touch him that deeply again. Somehow, through her innocence and honesty, Tracy had won a place in his heart. And now, in less than a year, he mourned the loss of yet another co-worker, another friend. Her last words to him still echoed in his head, "You could have trusted me." Her words had pierced his heart with the same pain of a wooden stake for he knew that she was right. He could have trusted her. But lying, hiding, and covering up what he was, was as much a part of him as was the vampire itself. It was his nature to doubt the trust of mortals and their motives. It was his duty to safeguard his community's secrets as much as it was his instinct to seek out blood. It had been easy to convince himself that it was only for her own protection that she be denied knowledge of yet another of their own kind. That she had known of Vachon, Screed, and the Inca, was more than enough for any mortal to assimilate. For her to be aware that her partner, to which she daily entrusted her life to, was also a blood-sucking creature of the night, was one less fact for her to worry about. Yes, he could have trusted her, but he did not regret not telling Tracy that he was a vampire. It would have only made her more aware of a dark existence, that was only a danger to her. Before she had died, the vampires that she had known, had all parted leaving her only with their memories. The only thing that he could have done to save her would have been to make her into a vampire at the hospital while she still had some life left in her. At the time he was waiting by her bedside as she slipped away, he had wanted to save her in the only way he could. The sorrow in his heart had distorted all rational thought. All he could feel was the agony of losing another partner, and it had devastated him. It was as if the combined pain of watching her pass away and the still piercing agony of Schanke's tragic death had taken over his unusual strong willpower. Had it not been for Natalie's timely intervention, Tracy would now be a member of a very exclusive night crowd. Thankfully, Natalie had been more calm and far-sighted, and had interceded to prevent Tracy's transformation. As horrible as it sounded, Tracy was better off now- dead and at peace. Looking back, and recalling that fateful confrontation along side Tracy's deathbed, visions of Nat's hurt and angry eyes bore into his soul. Her pained words haunted him, as he could not answer her simple question to him.

"Why is it so easy to consider bringing her across, and so impossible to consider bringing me?"

Not being able to understand why himself, he had walked away. Leaving her close to tears with a heart that was breaking, as he silently removed himself from not only his dying partner but from the most loving and faithful mortal he had ever known. Now, with clearer thoughts, he knew why it seemed easier to bring Tracy across. At the time that he was prepared to make Tracy his eternal child, she was already mostly dead. He had known that he was her only chance, but Natalie on the other hand was full of life, she had other options. It was also easier to bring Tracy across because he did not love her. Past experience had made him painfully aware of the impact his emotions had on successfully making another of their own kind. However, most of all, he could not stand the thought of bearing the weight of another mortal death on his shoulders. If his partner had become a child of the night, then he could have rationalized that he had done more, so much more, then was humanly possible to save her. If changing her into a vampire could be considered saving her, condemning her would be the better word. Condemning her to an existence of constant struggles to satiate an unending bloodlust. His reaction to bite her had been without forethought, an overreaction to both pain and guilt. It was this same weakness that had allowed him to only hours later, be unable to resist Natalie in a doomed attempt to join her in mortality.

The torturing memory of leaving Natalie on her bed knowing that all feelings for him had been eliminated, hurt now more than anything he had ever experienced. Overwhelmed by her lost love for him, he pulled out the closest chair and collapsed onto it. Folding his arms before him on the table, he lowered his heavy head and closed his eyes. Ancient memories of his words to LaCroix regarding his sister stormed through his brain. As if eight hundred years had been but a second, he remembered the sound of his voice as he had spoken to his master on that long ago night.

"It is the beauty of her innocence that you love, and that you will kill with the first taste of her blood. If you truly love Fleur LaCroix, you won't destroy that. You will not."

He tightened his eyes harder inside the protection of his folded arms. Yes, the truest form of love was letting go, and when that moment of truth had come to him, he had let her go. He had decided to let her die rather than selfishly cling to the small remnants of her humanity that she would possess as a vampire.

He felt the warm breath of his sigh, as he released the air that he had taken into his lungs into the darkness of his temporary sanctuary, which were his arms. Again, agony bored into his chest as he remembered her on the floor dying, dying because of him. That was when he had made another choice. When all had seemed to be lost, he understood what he had to do. There was only one thing left for him to do, one final request from his closest friend. There was an alternative, a way out that shown as clear as the morning light. Suddenly, almost miraculously, the tragic choice to bite Natalie, strengthened rather than diminished his faith. Consumed in the experience of the overpowering spirituality, he found a comfort in his newly acquired faith. There were no more doubts. It was as Natalie had said. All that was left was faith and love, and all he wanted was to be with her. However, death was not to be for either of them.

The conference door squeaked as it opened, and Nick lifted his tired head to face yet another round of the same endless questions over the events that led up to Tracy's death. However, instead of the latest team from Internal Affairs, his eyes met the concerned expression of his Captain. Loosening his tie, he moved into the room to get closer to Nick who was beginning to straighten himself and to stand.

"No Nick, don't get up. I just stopped by to see if there was anything I could do for you. Damn it's hot in here! How are you holding up?"

Obediently, Nick sank back down into the chair and leaned back against its wooden slats never allowing his eyes to stray from his Captain. He pushed his tired voice as he addressed Reese.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. I'm fine."

"You don't look fine Nick! Do you want this moved to a different room? It must be over 35 (95) degrees in here with all that sun pouring in those windows. I know the sunlight is a problem for you. I bet those guys purposely chose this room to make you uncomfortable."

"It's all right Captain. I can handle it."

Reese reached over the table, pulled a few tissues from a box, and wiped them across his forehead. He studied the best detective the department had in a long time, and a worried wrinkle began to form across his brow.

"Nick, you don't have to stay here day and night like you've been doing. I know that losing a partner is the worst thing that can happen to a cop, but I don't want to lose you too. You're punishing yourself here Nick, for something that you had no control over. Now let me tell these guys to resume this investigation tomorrow. You go home Nick, you got to start living again."

Touched by Reese's words, Nick couldn't help but smile. Reese really cared about him; he was trying to protect him. He was acting almost like a father to him. It was a gesture that was appreciated far more than his Captain could ever know. As much as he had felt like an outsider, he had built relationships that were positive. He had touched others even though he felt so isolated from humanity. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged, it felt good. Captain Reese wanted him to leave and start to rebuild his life. It made sense; it would be the same advice that he would recommend to any other officer in his situation. However, the whole picture of what had happened that same night his partner had been shot and died, was not at all visible to anyone else. He had lost far more than a career partner; he had lost a life partner -Natalie. She lived, but at the expense of his soul and heart. In exchange for her life, he had traded away everything including a reason to go on. Bringing his gaze back towards his Captain's face, he tried to explain.

"The truth is Captain, that I'm not ready to go back, and I don't know that I ever will be. Let them finish with their investigation."

Reese shook his head. "I don't like to see you like this Nick. They say you haven't been eating, just some tea. I've been thinking of calling someone in to talk with you, someone from the department who understands about these things."

"I know you are concerned, and I really appreciate it Cap, but it's not necessary. I just need a little more time, but you could do something for me. Would you check on Dr. Lambert's condition? Don't tell her that I asked. I was just wondering how she was doing."

Reese closed his eyes and cursed himself for being so forgetful. "Damn! I'm sorry Nick. I should have mentioned Dr. Lambert's condition as soon as I walked in. I know that you have been worried about her. I just came from her place. She's doing real well Nick. Dr. Harmond was planning on spending the day with her. She was sleeping when I got there, but the doc said that she had been awake. He said that the nightmares were still a problem, but that they were becoming less violent. Oh yeah, she had told Dr. Harmond to give you a message. She told him to thank you for helping her that night she passed out by your building, but she doesn't seem to remember what happened to her."

Nick felt a warm rush of relief sweep over his body. She was getting better just as LaCroix had said she would. Everything he had given up to save her now seemed unimportant. This had been the best news that he had heard in a long time, Nat was going to be fine. Satisfaction brought the next smile to his mouth. "Thanks Cap. Thanks."

"Sure Nick, I'll make sure she is well taken care of, but you already knew that. Maybe you can even go by yourself. I know the two of you were close."

With Reese's words, Nick's brief state of relaxation turned to disappointment. His hurt feelings roared to life inside him as the thought of losing Nat's love filled him. He gathered what little strength he had to speak before his Captain turned to leave. "We're friends Cap, just friends." And this time the disappointment in the tone of his voice allowed both of them to know that he spoke the truth.

With what seemed to be a true understanding for all that was lost between Nick and Natalie, the Captain looked sadly and deeply into his detectives far away expression. Nick could tell that his Captain wanted to say something comforting and encouraging to him, but thought that some things were better off left unsaid. After a long suffering moment, Reese's gaze moved down to the floor, and although there were no more words he walked over to Nick and placed a hand on his shoulder. A shared knowing glance was all that was necessary, and Nick smiled with the understanding that this man would stand by him like a brother. Automatically, Nick's hand went to reassuringly cover his Captains. Then silently Reese withdrew from the room leaving Nicholas to his own thoughts.

A sigh followed the Captain's departure, but he was still filled with the outpouring of comradeship that he had just been shown. While still seated and feeling exhausted, he pushed the chair away from the table and braced his elbows on his spread thighs. Covering his face with his hands, his memory stepped into a place that seemed long ago and far away even though it had only been a few days ago. His body shuddered as he remembered the moment that his burning gaze was on her, the sensation as he had laid his mouth against her neck. Her eyes had reflected what he had felt in his heart, and it was what her eyes had told him that had convinced him to try one last time to become mortal. With the genuineness of their love and faith, he had proceeded to love her. To love her with feelings so intense and pure that they were almost unbearable. All these feelings they had shared as he and the vampire had made love to her. Then a mere second had passed or was it hours or days as he realized that he had selfishly taken too much of her life. All he could feel was the weight of her near lifeless body in his arms, as he lowered her to the floor where they moments before had stood. It was then that time stood still and silence reigned. Still intoxicated by her life's essence that gushed through his veins, he stared at where she lay. And as his dead heart began to tear into pieces that could never be mended, he had heard the distant sound of his master's voice. It wasn't really distant, but every sound and action at that point in time only drifted away to a place that he wished he could be. That place was yesterday, and he would gladly have exchanged today for that time again. Regret, pain, and helplessness seemed to be crushing him as the words that LaCroix spoke lashed at him as if in punishment of his rash act. This time there was no way back, no forgiveness or excuses. He had taken too much from Nat, from the world, and from his soul. His gaze was on her face when the peace that comes with acceptance hardened his resolve. This night that had claimed his love's life would also claim his own. With the blinding wetness of his tears, he had turned to his closest friend and asked for the unfathomable. After almost eight centuries, he requested that the one, who brought him into his hated existence, now end it. There was no doubt in his mind that he would be with his love in the next world; he only needed his master to assist him now so that he could be with her.

However, the arrival of death's sweet release was not to come. As his master prepared to help him depart, he did not know that the frustration of LaCroix's words was more than for the death of his son. The words were only echoing a far more valuable treasure that had been stolen. The utterance of, "Damn you Nicholas!" was followed not by the sensation of a wooden stake being driven through his heart, but by an even greater outburst of angry words as he watched the ornate stick become viciously driven into the floor beside him.

"Do you not feel what you have become? Are you that entranced and devoted to this death wish that you have become oblivious to what you now are?"

His father had stepped back as the morning sun blazed across himself and his unconscious love. As he felt the early light embrace him there was no urgency to leap into the shadows, his only perception was that of confusion. Looking down at his sunlit arms as the warm rays stretched into the room until the wall stood as a barrier and would not allow it to penetrate further, he breathed in deeply. His heart pounded fiercely with fear and excitement at the same time. His blood pulsed now, and he marveled at the feel of the wild and plunging riff of blood in his body. Exhilaration from the new rush of sensations had him discovering and appreciating his own body. With these first streaks of daylight that immersed him, he almost thought himself to be invincible. Then came the most extraordinary awareness of all, he was no longer tied to LaCroix. The bond had been severed, and he was free. Slowly and cautiously he stood up and approached LaCroix as the memory of who lay dying re-entered his mortal brain.

"Why didn't you do as I asked? Why LaCroix? You have no more power over me."

With his anger subsiding, his master stared at him and confidently smiled.

"Why would I kill a mortal in that manner? It seems that we have come across a most interesting turn of events. I am sure Nicholas that you can appreciate the complexity of the situation that I now face."

LaCroix's words danced senselessly in his head. Even though he had become mortal, that did not change the reality that his destiny still lay with a woman who was close to death. It did not change the fact that he only needed to die now to be with her. Like a flash, fear gripped him, as he comprehended the idea that LaCroix could somehow turn a long desired mortality into his own benefit.

"There is nothing you can do to keep me LaCroix. I will die. If not by your hand, then by my own if I must. I can guarantee LaCroix that I will not return to you if you try to bring me across again."

Turning his back, LaCroix paced a few steps towards the door before returning his look to his son. An amused smile again crossed his lips and he allowed the space between them to empty into a hard silence. Then the chill of his icy words slashed the still air.

"So even in your mortality you desire death? Very gallant, but I can assure you quite unnecessary." While carefully avoiding the lighted areas of the room, he moved to the other side of the couch and gestured to Natalie. "This mortal who you wish to throw your life away for, can be saved. That is really what you want isn't it Nicholas?"

"You know that it is, but she is beyond any hope for a mortal life. What pleasure is there in taunting me now? Even you, LaCroix, cannot raise the dead."

"True, true. Were it true that she were dead."

The intent gaze between master and son dissolved with the elder vampire turning away and moving to where he could kneel comfortably near his son's dying victim to examine her. With an uncharacteristically gentle hand, his father took her chin between his fingers and moved her head to the side. With a silence that threatened to crush them, he then listened with his eyes closed to her heart and breathing. With one final movement he ran his cold fingers over the two perfect bite marks and smiled before he again looked up to his anguished child. "There is a way Nicholas."

LaCroix's words ripped through him as easily as bullets would shatter glass and his guilt turned into anger. "I do not believe you. You would say anything to bring me back to your world."

Slowly he arose and moved close enough to place a firm hand on his son's shoulder. Now with quiet words filled with the pain of his son's rejection, he stared unblinking at the face of his ungrateful protege. "My world? It is your world too Nicholas. Do you believe that what has transpired has changed anything? What you were will always be a part of you, and you will always be a part of me. A moment ago, you said that I was your closest friend. Why would I lie to you now?"

"If you have the power to save her, then why have I never known of this?"

Releasing the grasp on his shoulder, he allowed his arm to fall as he again turned to view the last remaining moments of this mortal who had the power to take his son from him. "Saving mortals? Now why would I ever consider such a thing?" Reaching down he picked up her hand then let it slide from his before turning back to Nicholas. "She is in-between our world and her own. There is not much time. Do you want me to help her regain her mortality?"

He could feel his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands as he struggled to answer knowing fully that his rash actions had placed him into a position that offered no way out that would not cost Natalie her life. And then his words blurted out, almost on their own. "I want her to live!" His outburst was followed by a deep sigh, and his next words became muffled as he hung his head and spoke into his hands that he now used to cover his face. "I want her to live. What is it that you will require of me to perform this act?"

"Why Nicholas you are acting as if I am heartless. Here I am offering you help and you question my motives."

Recovering from the agony of the certain knowledge that this gift of mortality would be but a fleeting memory and that he would soon be again enslaved to the evil, he gathered his strength and locked his gaze with his master. "You do ask something for your help. It is my mortality that you wish to destroy, isn't it? Is this the cost for her life?"

"Do not look as this as a sordid bargain. I prefer to think of this as a gentleman's agreement."

Nick looked down at her still body. Her dark hair flowed so softly around her angelic features that he could not help but become mesmerized for a moment. Each of her breaths was so gentle and shallow, barely sustaining her. So little of her was left- only her physical beauty. He had taken so much; he had all but drained her of spirit and innocence. His mortal body longed to hold her, to caress, and to make her a part of him. However, he had taken all of her goodness into himself already and left nothing but an empty shell of what she was. If LaCroix could bring back all that she was, how could he turn that deal down no matter what the price? Slowly, he allowed his eyes to drift back to the only one who might make this miracle of renewed life happen. "Then if I am to save her, it will cost me my soul?"

"Your soul? You do not have a soul Nicholas, but if you wish to believe that one exists then you can keep it. I merely want my son back." With a sudden twist of his head, LaCroix appeared concerned as he looked down at Natalie then turned his attention back to Nick. "As much as I despise a rushed decision, this deal will not be good to either of us if she dies. It is up to you Nicholas."

"When? When would I have to return?"

Astonished by the response, a brief smile crossed LaCroix's lips. "Why now, of course." Curiously, he watched in silence as his son turned away and moved towards the sunlit windows. The man he knew only in darkness stood silently by the glistening panes of glass. He watched the determination in his child's blue eyes that now flickered with bits of light. He marveled at the pale skin that had now flushed pink from a life-giving pulse, and he hungered. He hungered more for this mortal child of his than the day he had made him eternal centuries ago. As much as he wanted him, he could not act. Any force would be a mistake, and he could not afford to ever get this close to losing him again. The same power that had caused his son to lose his immortality would now convince him, even without her awareness, to return to his rightful place in the world. There was only one more piece of information for Nicholas to contemplate, now that he had almost consented already. In a flash of vampiric speed, LaCroix slid to the shaded side of the glass next to his son.

"There is one other thing that you should be aware of Nicholas. When she recovers, she will have only minimal memory of you and of course nothing of our kind. The human brain is amazing wouldn't you say? It appears that in the event of extreme blood loss, it shuts down. The manner in which her life is restored to her will allow her to remember you no more than as an acquaintance."

Nick's eyes closed in pain from the realization of LaCroix's words. They would have a chance again at life, but with her having no idea of what they meant to each other. How would it be to see her, knowing all that they were to each other? Maybe she could learn to love him all over again? Perhaps LaCroix was wrong, and she does recover full memory, but he doubted that his sire was mistaken. And if he could convince her to love him again, would it be right to allow her to again have a relationship where there is no future? If she does not remember anything of the existence of vampires, then it would be unwise to reintroduce her to a life that would only place her in danger. Her memory loss, although difficult for him to bear, would be a blessing to her. It would be for the best that she forget about him, about them. Would she ever feel the same for him? It would be best that she did not. Turning his back to the warm sun's rays, his heart pounded as though it would break apart as he watched her now so close to death. Hearing the waves of his own heartbeat echo in his ears, his lips formed a bittersweet smile. How happy Natalie would have been. She had cured him. The emotional shock of what he had done to her had made him mortal. She had done it, but at what expense? He was about to again make a deal with LaCroix that would take away everything Natalie had worked for, even what she was willing to die for. Surely, she would sacrifice her life to prevent what he was now contemplating. But, he could not let her die. This world could not afford to be deprived of her goodness. His soul was such a small price to pay for her life. His only regret was that he would not be able to share in the life that was soon to be restored to her. The mortality that vibrated throughout him now felt so good, and it was because of Natalie that all this was possible. Yes, he would give anything to save her, even return to eternal slavery. If only he could be granted a reprieve. If only some small amount of mortality could come about from what Nat almost died for. Again, he glanced at her beauty as more feelings rushed through him now than he had ever consumed in his immortal life. Love mixed with helplessness, joy blended with anger, and excitement collided with fear as he steeled himself before he turned back to LaCroix.

"Do not take me now, LaCroix. Give me ten mortal years, and I promise to come back to you."

"I do not appreciate bargaining, Nicholas. What is your decision?"

"Ten years means nothing to you, it is no more than a glimmer. Allow me to have this time, then you will have what you want. Give this to me, give this to your son."

Time stood still as they faced each other, immortal to mortal, friend to friend, father to son. Both wanting so much, but knowing that there were sacrifices to be made. As Nicholas waited, he saw a momentary weakness take hold of his sire. LaCroix's eyes then seemed to penetrate him as he again spoke.

"Five years. Five years and your word."

Relief and renewed respect washed over Nick. "My word then!"

After a moment of taking turns directing his focus between the two doomed lovers, LaCroix backed away as he spoke. "I will be watching, Nicholas."

"I do not doubt that."

Without a further word, LaCroix dropped down beside Natalie, and picked her up into his arms. "Within the hour I will meet you at her home. Have your Captain arrive there as well. I will leave it to you to explain the marks on her throat. It will take some time before she is fully healed, but you will see for yourself that her full mortality will be restored. We must leave now. One hour Nicholas."

With one last look, Nick turned away as LaCroix with Natalie slumped against him, disappeared behind the elevator's doors. Casting an anxious glance at the sun, he knew better than to question LaCroix about how he would move Natalie and himself through sun covered streets. If his master could bring back Natalie's life to her, then the small problem of being in the light would be easily surmountable for the elder vampire. Slowly, Nick turned himself around, and stared at the empty apartment. The feel of death still hung heavy in the air, but there was not time to mourn all that had happened last night. Now, arrangements had to be made, he had to tell his Captain to come to Natalie's apartment and to come up with some explanation that would account for her condition. Nicholas dialed the precinct's number without thinking and spoke with Captain Reese. With a few well-chosen words, he was able to convince his Captain to be at Nat's place shortly. He felt as if time was standing still, but a quick look outside and he knew that it was well into the early part of the day. Walking straight to the elevator, he only stopped to pick up his keys and his jacket. Before he had time to think, he found himself driving the sunlit streets that led to Nat's part of town. The drive was incredible, but he did not dare enjoy it. It hurt too much not to have her to share in the wonderful sounds, sights, and smells of life. But as he paused at a traffic light, his attention was drawn towards a young woman who was selling flowers on the street. Large bouquets of colorful spring flowers overflowed her stand. Without hesitation, he beckoned her to the car and asked her to retrieve for him all of the lovely violet colored lilacs that were for sale. They would be a gift for Natalie, a gift of spring. Just as Mother Nature was renewing itself with this season, so would she be renewed. Ironically, the one who he had feared would one-day end her life was now helping her to regain what the one she had trusted had almost taken. He shook his head clear of the unhappy thoughts as the young woman approached his Caddy with the bundle of fresh flowers. With his purchase complete, he drove as fast as he dared and parked haphazardly in front of Natalie's apartment building. After rushing through the front door and leaping several steps at a time, he arrived at Nat's door to find it unlocked. Charging through the main room, he burst into her bedroom to find LaCroix still ministering to his mortal patient. Still panting and out of breath from his dash up the stairs, Nick saw that LaCroix reacted as if he hardly noticed him as his master looked up and gave him only the briefest of an acknowledgement. Slowly, his breathing calmed down as he saw that she was still alive as she lay on her bed. LaCroix had laid her comfortably on her back with her head resting to one side. The position had allowed for the two holes from his bite to stand out, and acted as a painful reminder of his last vampire act. Two empty plastic bags of blood lay flattened and folded by the side of the bed, and the white powdery remnants of some unknown substance still clung to the corners of her mouth.

Keeping perfectly quiet, Nick waited by the doorway until LaCroix wiped away what lingered of the powder mixture and looked up at him. His master studied him, allowing his eyes to travel up and down the length of his body for several long seconds. Then partly in pity and partly in disappointment, he shook his head over what his son had become, and turned to pick up the two empty plasma bags. He couldn't help but feel the longing emptiness in his heart from his sons departed ways, but his voice did not reveal any emotion.

"It is done. She will live, as much as mortals do. During the next week, she will sleep fitfully, but with each day she will improve." Looking towards the ceiling, LaCroix sighed before again bringing his gaze back to his son. "I can hear the heartbeat of your Captain climbing the stairs. I shall leave now to speak with him. Say your farewell to her now Nicholas."

Nick felt the cool breeze of displaced air as LaCroix brushed past him by the door, and he allowed his gaze to remain on the closed door for some time after his master had departed. Remembering that his time was limited, he humbly turned back to Natalie, trying to think and not to feel. His gaze fell on the vase filled with yellow daises that he had brought to her at the Morgue the other night. It had only been two nights since he had seen them in the store's window and had persuaded the owner to reopen for one final transaction. His impromptu visit and gift had delighted Nat. Her eyes and smile had been so bright when he had handed them to her that she had penetrated his veil of darkness. All that had taken place only two nights ago. Why did it now seem like two lifetimes ago?

Pulling the daises from the water, he replaced them with the newly purchased lilacs and moved to sit on the edge of her bed. Silently he gazed at her, and smiled. All of her color was back, and each of her breaths was even and deep as her chest rose and fell with ease. Automatically, he tenderly reached over to remove a few stray hairs that had fallen across her face. Then his hand traced a gentle path down her face and body until he reached her hand. Clasping his fingers around her hand, he felt for her pulse. It was strong and steady, and it thumped beneath his fingers with the same vibration that he had remembered hearing when they were together. As he took pleasure in the feeling of her strong heart rate, his thoughts drifted to the sound of LaCroix's velvety words as he spoke to the Captain in the next room. With a refined, but hypnotic tone, his master was instructing the Captain as to how things would proceed. Natalie's condition and his whereabouts were being explained, he had even specified as to how Nat was to be cared for. His thoughts returned to the woman whose hand he now held. Time was running short, and he did feel the need to say good-bye. Raising her hand to the side of his face, he indulged in the feel of the warm smoothness of her skin against his cheek. He held her hand tightly against him as he whispered to her. "Natalie." Just the whisper of her name relieved some of the ache in his heart. He loved her so much that it hurt to look at her.

"Nat, you are going to get well now. You will have a second chance at life now." Bitter grief over his loss of her memories gripped his heart, and he diverted his eyes from her and towards the flowers bursting with life. He steadied himself. There was still more that he needed to say, even though she could not hear nor would she recall any of his words. Heartbroken, he turned back towards her. "I wish you could see the flowers Nat. I wish I could be here to see their beauty reflected in your eyes when you do see them. I know how much you liked the last flowers that I brought for you. They are only lilacs. I don't know why I brought them, but when I saw them, I knew that you should have them. No, that's not true. I do know why I brought them. I wanted them to be here as you recovered. I wanted them to be here to comfort you because I will not be here when you awake. Instead, I leave these here as a symbol of what we were to one another. When you see the flowers, remember that you are loved and that you are safe. There will be nothing that will harm you again. Because of how I feel for you, I know that I must let you go. You will be free now to live a normal life. But what we shared will never be lost. It will always live on, in silence and in me, forever."

The bed squeaked slightly as he released her hand and listlessly stood to move towards the closed door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned his head for one last lingering look before exiting the bedroom and moving into the living room. Standing only a meter behind LaCroix, he waited for his final words to Reese to end and for him to depart. The two mortal police officers stood in complete silence. Nick could see no reason to hasten all the lies and deceptions that he would have to act out to protect himself and so many others. Becoming mortal again had thrust him into a world long since remote and alien. Then, as if awakening from a dream, Reese groggily shook his head and saw Nick standing before him.

"Damn, my wife has been telling me that I'm not getting enough sleep. I almost dozed off standing up." Raising his hand to his face, he rubbed at his eyes. "Is Dr. Lambert all right in there? I know that the doctor says she'll be fine, but it sounded pretty bad when you called."

"She's resting now, but she's fine. Did the doctor suggest any special treatment?"

"Yeah, he said to bring in some nurses and maybe a doctor to help her through the rough part." Still trying to think clearly again, he scratched at his forehead. "Did you say you just found her laying outside your building when you got home?"

"There was a large dog near her, that I chased away. When I saw that she was all right, I brought her here then called her doctor and you."

Still rubbing at his head, Reese moved towards the kitchen table and sat down then motioned for Nick to join him. By the way his Captain was acting, he knew that bad news was coming. Without hesitation, he took the chair across the table. Concerned eyes looked deeply into his soul as he watched Reese pause before he reluctantly broke the quietness of the room.

"It sure has been one hell of a night Nick. I don't know how to tell you this in an easy way, so I'm going to give it to you straight. Tracy didn't make it. I think that is what Dr. Lambert was on her way to tell you when all this happened. I'm sorry about Tracy, Nick. You two were good together."

Nick took a deep breath in before he replied. "I already knew Cap. I was told when I called the precinct to tell you about Dr. Lambert. I have been the source of too much trouble. You will have my resignation as soon as I can return to the precinct to clear out my desk."

Disturbed by Nick's response, Reese's voice began to rise out of frustration. "What are you talking about Nick? This is a tragedy, but it is not your fault. And after you talk to the Review Board, they are going to come to the same conclusion. I know that you hurt. When a thing like this happens, you hurt in places deep in your soul that you never knew you had. But you don't run away, you use it to make yourself stronger. We need you Nick. Don't abandon us now."

"I appreciate everything that you are saying Captain, but I am not sure that I can survive another loss. It hasn't been even a year since Schanke..." He broke of, unable to finish the sentence.

Wanting to help, Reese stood up and walked to where Nick sat and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You never get over the losses. You tear yourself up inside, but you live with them and you go on. You know that Tracy and Schanke would have wanted it that way, and so would you if it had been the other way around."

Accepting as true all that his Captain said, Nick stood up and faced him as streams of memories of his partners passed before his eyes. "I miss them Cap. I'll never forget them."

"No one is saying for you to forget them. You take that piece of their lives that touched you, and you hold on to it and you make it a part of you. And they are a part of you; you are different because of what they gave to you. And as long as you live so do they, through you. I know you Nick. You're a survivor. You're stronger than you think." Crossing the room, Reese quietly pushed open Natalie's bedroom door, and took a quick look inside before turning back to Nick. "Nick, I'm going to make arrangements for the Review Board to meet with you later today while everything's still fresh in your mind."

Nick stood to face Reese. "I'll meet with them Cap, and I'll accept any decision they make."

"There's only one decision they can make. That you acted in accordance to procedure. You did what you had to do, no one would have done anything differently." With a reassuring smile, he turned to search for the phone. After he located it, his eyes returned to Nick. "Hey, I have some calls to make to have some help brought in here. I want you to go home for now and get some rest."

"Maybe later, but for now I would be more comfortable at the precinct. I am not ready for home yet."

"I understand." He watched as Nick moved towards the door to leave then called after him. "Oh Nick, you have a few rough days ahead of you, so don't forget that I'll be there anytime you need me day or night. And that goes for the others down at the precinct too. You got friends, you're not in this alone."

A smile briefly crossed his lips. "Thanks Cap." He slowly closed the door behind him as he left. It was true that he was not alone, he did know that, but he could have been surrounded by tens of thousands and his heart would still ache with loneliness. The only one who could put an end to his solitude was recovering from a near fatal wound that he had caused, and may not even remember his name.

--------

The door to the conference room swung open with great force, and Nick lifted his heavy head from his hands. He could still feel the weight from his bent over position pull at the back of his neck as he looked up to view Commissioner Vetter walk in followed by the members of the Shooting Review Board.

Swiftly and modestly, Nick rose and offered his hand to the Commissioner as his words of condolence rolled out. "Commissioner Vetter, I am so sorry of your loss."

With the arrogance that accompanied his position, he dismissed the detectives attempt at sympathy and ignored his hand. Choosing to focus solely on the business at hand, he took on a proud air and acted in a professional manner void of any emotion. Crossing the room, he moved to sit at the head seat at the end of the long table. Nick watched as the five members of the Review Board all moved to stand behind the Commissioner and stare through him with expressionless faces. Not knowing exactly what to do, Nick stood at the opposite end of the table, and waited as his boss' boss began to leaf through several of the folders that he had seen being used during the last few days of his hearing. The Commissioner for all intents and purposes seemed very intent on the material that lay inside the reviewer's notebooks and manuals, but he could see that whatever the words that lay on the pages said, it did not matter. He had seen eyes like those before. Those were the eyes of a predator, hard and cold. Years as a hunter had made him acutely aware that all the motions the Commissioner was now going through were only a ploy. A deceptive game used to lure and to intimidate his victims. A sick feeling washed over him, not because of the anxiety, this act was trying to evoke, but because of the detached way in which Tracy's father was reacting to his daughter's death.

Finally the stalking came to an end, and Commissioner Vetter's voice boomed as he tossed all the books to the side.

"I have spent the last couple of days reviewing all reports and listening to testimony pertaining to my daughter's death. Her Mother, sister, and I will be burying her today and I will have this investigation buried as well. My family needs an end to this, so I will be ending it now." His word of "now" was accentuated with the sound of his fist hitting the table as he rose. His chair scraped at the wooden floor as it was pushed back to make room for his imposing figure. Leaving his seated position, he walked towards Nick until less than 15 centimeters stood between the two men. Vetter's words were as bitter as venom as he spoke.

"My daughter was placed in your hands with the understanding that you were to be trusted. And what did you do with that trust? You threw it back in my face." After a quick twist to look at the board that had not even taken a breath since the Commissioner had risen, he turned back to the detective. "These gentlemen have come to the conclusion that you are not be held accountable for Detective Vetter's death. So it would seem that legally my hands are tied. However, before you go breathing that sigh of relief, you should also be aware that I cannot think of one good reason why you should remain in this department. I want you out of here Knight, and make it your life's ambition to never be seen in the presence of a Vetter again! You killed my little girl Knight! One way or another, you killed her. And just because they can't prove it doesn't mean that you are not as guilty as sin. I don't see how you sleep at nights."

Vetter's words cut at him as surely as if he had used a sword, and for the first time since he had regained his mortality he realized that guilt was not exclusive to immortal beings. The Commissioner's reproach only reminded him that even as a mortal he was to be condemned for his failings and that there was no salvation for one as damned as himself. With what little was left of his pride, he offered the only response he could. "Your daughter's life was my responsibility Sir, I did my best to protect her but it was not enough. What happened was an accident, but that doesn't excuse my actions and it does not bring her back. Whatever you think of me, does not matter. Your daughter was a good cop and she deserves to be remembered that way. I will always remember her that way and though you may not believe this, I would have traded my life for her's if I could. And about how I can manage to sleep, if it helps, there is no peace for me- even in my sleep."

As if Nick had not spoken, the Commissioner turned and summoned one of the Review Board members to his side to instruct him. "Fill out Detective Knight's resignation papers and have him escorted from the building."

Vetter then exited the room so rapidly that he never heard the quick response of "Yes Sir" to his command.

Nick's stare followed the Commissioner long after he had slammed the door behind him. The sound of the door's glass window was still reverberating in the room as Nick was approached from the side.

"Detective Knight, I have to ask you to turn over your gun and badge now."

He did not turn, but continued to stare at the glass and wooden barrier as if he expected something miraculous to happen. He had considered resignation many times, and had even taken some risks by bending the rules, but throughout his Toronto career, he was always the one in control. He had not seen this coming. This was not an investigation for the truth. This was personal. Evidence, facts, and a spotless record, none of it mattered. One day he is being told that he is a bonafide hero, and the next he is thrown out of his workplace. The man beside him repeated his request for the objects that stood for his commitment to helping humanity, and his mesmerization was broken. Mechanically, he reached across to where his gun was secured to his chest, then carefully handed it over to the waiting official. This gun that now left his possession, had never been used to take another's life. Then with diminished strength, he made his way to where his jacket hung over the chair and withdrew his badge. Nostalgia stung hard at him, and he stopped to open it and reveal what lay protected inside. It looked so new, just as it did the day he had received it six years ago. He needed one last look at the shiny metal that meant so much to him before turning away from it forever. His eyes moved across the case to the picture on the opposite side. There shone the face of a man who had thrown his life away, and who had destroyed countless others along the way. The badge suddenly repulsed him and he snapped it closed in disgust and handed it to the man who held his gun. As the badge was relinquished, a second man approached with a group of papers that were stapled together, and showed him the place he wanted him to sign. They had wasted no time in preparing the resignation forms. Obediently, he removed the proffered pen and papers and leaned the documents against the wall as he signed. With all the formalities accomplished, he was led to the conference room door and escorted out into the main room. His first step out was met with the immediate hush of a usually hectic room. All eyes turned, as Nick moved with the Review Board group towards the door. Nothing audible could be heard as Nick tried to make his way to the exit without catching the gaze of any of the precinct's officers. Then from behind him, a voice caught his attention and he abruptly stopped. Locating the sound that pierced the silence, he turned his head to see one of the rookie police officer that had befriended Tracy Vetter before she had been transferred to the night shift. The young woman's long blonde hair had been neatly rolled beneath her uniform's cap, and she almost stumbled as she moved towards the departing group balancing a large cardboard box in her arms.

"Detective Knight, Detective Knight." She caught her breath as she joined them, and delivered the box into Nick's hands. "Detective, I was assigned the task of clearing out your desk. I think I got everything. I just put everything in that was inside the drawers and on top. I didn't look, I just packed." For a brief moment, he smiled at her as she looked over her shoulder at the other officers and detectives. "I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you Detective Knight, we are all sorry. And we want you to know that we really don't think that this was handled very fairly. We want you to know that we are on your side. We believe that you were right. I'm not real good with words, but we all hope that you realize that we have appreciated all that you had done here, and how you always treated everyone with respect no matter what their rank. You did real good Detective Knight, and we are honored to have been able to work with you."

Looking much more flushed from embarrassment then before, she began to back away. With the sounds of her voice still fresh in everyone's mind, one lone detective slowly rose to his feet and confidently began to clap his hands. With his lead, soon another followed and then another. The momentum grew until within a minute, the entire room was standing and applauding him as he stood in stunned silence. Feeling overwhelmed by this gesture, he quickly scanned all the faces in the room and smiled. There were no words that could express his gratitude. Feeling too choked up to utter a simple sound; he mouthed a heartfelt "Thank you." The men from the Review Board were the last to join in the ovation, but became the most fervent as they stepped away from his side. Feeling as though his heart might burst from the show of acceptance and support, he pushed through the door. The roaring thunder of applause faded into the distance as he left the precinct.

--------

Nick could hear the telephone ringing in the loft apartment before the elevator door opened, but chose to allow the answering machine to pick it up. The remote controlled window blinds still stood fully opened making it all the easier to see how empty the place looked. Nothing had changed since the morning he had sped to Nat's apartment to meet LaCroix. Walking across the room, he threw his jacket over the leather sofa, and glanced down at the number of messages that had been left on his machine. The telephone began to ring, and again he ignored it. The machine had already exceeded the limit for the amount of messages it would store, but continued to provide his pre-recorded greeting as it tried to accept the calls. It had been set to only allow a few rings, but each hollow sound of the ringer reverberated through the stillness of the loft, and made him shudder. The loft never felt emptier. When he looked towards the fireplace, he could conjure up the feel of Natalie in his arms as he held her close and promised that no matter what would happen that they would be together. He could recall the look of love and trust in her eyes before she willingly handed over her life to be drained by the vampire. And he could not forget the sweet taste of her soul, as the beast would not withdraw until it was satisfied. Then the most agonizing of all the memories attacked his heart, the moment when he had realized that he had taken too much. How he wished he could forever erase that memory from his brain. How could he remain here and live with the ghosts of what used to be, haunting him? For an unknown reason, he could not bring himself to stop staring at the spot where she had lain so near to death from his act. The clear sharp sound of the telephone's ring startled him back to the present. Glancing back down at the machine he was reminded that it was filled to capacity, so this time he lifted the receiver to his face. "Knight."

A voice filled with relief blurted into the phone. "Thank goodness I finally got a hold of you. Are you all right? Nick, I just got a call, and was told what they did to you. I don't want you thinking that this is the end. If the Review Board cleared you, then we can appeal. Damn it Nick, we ARE going to appeal!"

"Cap, I really appreciate your support, but maybe this is for the best. Right now, I am probably not much good to anyone. Most of my outstanding cases have been closed anyway. I am fine, but I am going to miss the place. I just need some time to start over."

"Don't go quitting on us Nick. I'm not about to take this sitting down, and don't go asking me to drop this. This was not a just verdict; it was a personal vendetta. You know that, we all know it. I can't afford to lose you, the department needs you. Listen Nick, I know a private cop who could use some help. We used to work together a while back, but he needed to go out on his own. Sort of a loner who doesn't do well with the rules. Remind you of anyone? I know that the two of you would work well together. You're sort of like kindred spirits. What do you say I give him a call until I get you back here?"

"Captain, I am fine. Really. I have enough money so I do not have to work. I am not even certain that I can find the motivation to start something new right now."

"Now is the best time Nick. Get your mind off yourself. Listen his name is Weber, Phil Weber. He had the best shooting scores for three years straight in the academy. He always gets his perps, just like you. And best of all, he does consultation work with our precinct. You would still be on our side, but less public and more private. I was just thinking the other day how we could use more help from Phil and of course whoever is working with him. What do you say Nick?"

Nick pulled the phone down against his chest and looked around the lonely loft. Shaking his head, he took in a deep breath and sighed. Was Reese right? Was he ready to jump back into the water? And if he did start now, would he ever have the strength to really follow through? He sighed again. If he did not have a reason to wake up tomorrow, what good was this mortality? Without Nat's love and encouragement and now his job, he would be lost. With the receiver pressed firmly against his chest, he could barely make out his Captain's words.

"Nick, Nick?"

Gripping the telephone tighter, he pulled it back up towards his head.

"Captain, call Mr. Weber and tell him to give me a call about what time I should start tomorrow."

Nick had to pull the telephone away from his ear as the Captain's excitement burst through the lines. "Haha! Now this is the best news that I've heard in a long time. You're doing the right thing Nick. Being a cop is in your blood. Once a cop always a cop. It is impossible to walk away from, no matter how bad it treats you. I'll be seeing you down at the precinct soon, and after a little while I'm sure that we will be needing you on a more permanent basis."

"Thanks Captain. I won't let you down."

"You never have Nick, you never have."

Nick smiled as he hung up the telephone, and shook his head in disbelief. Now for the first time in nearly eight hundred years, he felt human not different or separate. Although his new mortality was not as perfect as he had expected, it could still be quite inspiring after all. Maybe things were about to turn around. Feeling suddenly overpowered by hunger; he crossed the room towards the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator's door. He could not stop himself from laughing as he examined the contents, and thought about what Schanke used to say about the sight of nothing but green bottles. After a moment of staring at the supposed wine containers, he slammed the door shut and turned to a nearby cabinet to retrieve a telephone book. Opening the pages to the restaurant section, he stopped to think. 'Now what was the name of that pizza place that Schanke always dragged him to?'

--------

Natalie roused with a sudden start, and as she tried to sit up, she also tried to shake away the remnants of her dream. A spasm of fear rushed through her as unclear images of her nightmare now faded in and out of reality. Struggling to calm herself, she cautiously scanned her room. Near the headboard of her bed, a man slept sitting up in one of her chairs that she kept in her living room. With her dream almost forgotten, she studied the features of the man and remembered who he was. He was not a threat to her, she knew him from the University, but why was he invading her private bedroom? A dull ache on the side of her neck caused her to reach up and caress the sore spot. Again the sensation of two small bumps startled her, but then she remembered. Mark was here to help her. He had said that she had been bitten and was sick. Just as she was about to sigh in relief, she was again caught off guard as a woman dressed in white pushed open her bedroom door. With a pleasant and happy look the stranger moved close to her and reached over to take her pulse.

"Natalie, is it all right to call you that? Or would you prefer Dr. Lambert?"

Watchfully, Nat followed her movements and carefully gave her a smile. "Natalie is fine."

"Good. Well than Natalie, your pulse seems to be good. Let me take your blood pressure and temperature now." As Nat tentatively allowed the nurse to perform all the standard exams, she looked over at Mark who didn't stir for a moment.

"37.0, perfect Natalie. I think you are going to be up and around in no time. I bet you're happy to hear that."

Nat turned her head from Mark and weakly smiled at the nurse. Most of what Mark had told her was coming back, but she wanted to hear what had happened again now that she was thinking much clearer. As the nurse sat down and started to write a few notes about her statistics in a notebook, she summoned her attention.

"Excuse me. I'm sorry I don't know your name."

"You can call me Mary."

Nat smiled again. "Mary." She stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts. "Mary, how many days have you been here?"

"I've only been here today, there have been others here before me."

Nat looked over her shoulder at Mark, then brought her gaze back to Mary.

"Has the Doctor been here long?"

"Well, since this is my first day, I can't be certain. But from the notes on your chart, I would say that he has been watching your progress very closely. In fact, I should be waking him up now. He did want to be notified about you waking up."

Seeing the nurse rise from her seat, Nat intervened by speaking up. "Wait! I mean could you tell me more about what is wrong with me?" Her hand reached towards her neck. "About what this is?"

"I'm sorry Natalie, but the doctor is in charge of that."

"But I am a doctor." Nat insisted.

"I meant your doctor. You of all people should know the rules. Let me wake him now, and he will be able to answer all your questions." Nodding reluctantly, Nat scooted around to face Mark, who moved stiffly as he woke from his unnatural sleeping position, but was genuinely happy to see her so awake. The nurse handed him her notebook and began to cross over to the other side of her bed to return to her chair. Noticing where she was headed, Mark spoke up.

"Mary, would you please give me a few minutes alone with my patient?"

Surprised, she reminded him that she had already taken all the vital signs and that everything appeared to be normal, but he was insistent that they have some privacy. Still not fully understanding of the need for another exam, she accepted the doctor's request and moved into the next room to wait for a call for her assistance. As soon as the door closed, Mark sat forward, reached for her wrist, and felt for her pulse. He seemed not to concentrate on counting the beats, but instead looked deeply into her eyes and smiled.

"Natalie, you look so much better. How do you feel?"

"I feel like my life has been turned upside down and I don't know which direction is up. I want to know exactly what has been wrong with me. Tell me everything and don't spare any details."

A wide smile spread across Mark's mouth. Natalie was improving. She was back to her no nonsense feisty self. Seeing his broad smile, she started to feel insulted and pulled her arm from his grasp. "Is there something funny going on here? I wish you would tell me because I could really use a good laugh right now."

Apologetically, he handed Natalie the chart where all her records of the past three days had been meticulously stored. "Natalie, I couldn't do more than give you everything that I have. Here, read it. Maybe you can figure out what you have almost recovered from. Everything is there including all your blood results. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel annoyed. I was just so happy to see you starting to be back to normal again."

With her chart in her hands, she looked up at him. "No Mark. I'm the one who should be apologizing. You have been here helping me all this time, and the first think I do is snap at you. I'm sorry Mark."

An accepting smile again crossed his lips and then he laughed. "Don't worry Natalie. We all know that doctors make the worst patients."

After a brief smile, Nat opened the chart and began to study it with Mark looking on. She pored over each page and every entry several times before looking over to Mark. "I don't understand. Every test says that I am fine. All came back with good results, but I was almost comatose for days. Even the tests that you sent off to the infectious disease center came back clean. You did everything that I would have done plus some. It doesn't make sense. By all rights, I shouldn't be sick."

Mark moved closer to the bed to sit next to her, closed the chart that lay across her lap, and placed it next to dying flowers on the end table. "You must have something that has not been documented yet. That animal that bit you gave you... I don't know, a new strain of virus. It might be as simple as that. I do know that most likely that we will never know what you picked up. It was scary to see you with so many symptoms, but you were never really in danger. You're getting better, so let's just look towards the future now."

A smile of relief met Mark's smile, and she relaxed. Feeling some energy return, she glanced around the room then looked back at him. "Mark, I want to get dressed and get up. I'm hungry."

"Now that is a good sign! Are you sure that you are strong enough?"

"I... I don't know, but I want to try." Pulling herself towards the end of the bed, she threw her legs over the side and let them dangle there. Then with Mark's help, she stood up, then stood alone. Moving towards her dresser, she could not find the sweater that she was looking for, and turned to Mark. "That's strange. I know I always keep my blue sweater in this top drawer."

"Maybe it's in the laundry or you lent it to someone. Or maybe...? Natalie, I had wanted to ask you about this anyway. The morning after Captain Reese had called me to stay here, I found two packed suitcases in the living room. Captain Reese had said they were in your car and he had someone bring them up here. Were you planning on a trip the night all this happened?"

Feeling weak again, Nat moved back to the bed to sit down. After things just had seemed to become clearer, there was again something new to wonder about. Natalie closed her eyes and sighed. If there was a trip in her plans, she had no idea where to or for how long. Feeling frightened and lost, she looked over at Mark who sat down in the chair before her. "I don't remember Mark. Did anyone check on flights or buses that I might have been scheduled on?"

"I had Captain Reese do all that already. There was no record anywhere. Nothing with your name was on any form of public transportation. You must have been going somewhere by car or maybe with someone else. Can you think back to that night? We know that you were quite upset about Laura, but no one remembers you saying that you were leaving."

Her hands moved up to cover her face, and she rubbed at her throbbing temples. "I had just finished with Laura's autopsy. I remember holding the journal she had left for me. I remember crying. But something's wrong. Not just Laura's death. I feel like something in my life is missing. I need an answer tonight."

"An answer? To what Natalie? To why Laura killed herself?"

Standing up suddenly, she crossed her arms over her chest as if to hold herself and Mark immediately stood next to her and held her to him. She stood frightened in his embrace with her crossed arms still separating them and softly spoke in a far away voice. "I don't know, I just needed an answer." Feeling cold, she broke away from him. "Mark would you check to see if my blue sweater is in one of those suitcases?" Helping her sit again, he moved into the other room and sent the nurse in. Not wanting to waste too much time, he hurriedly unzipped the largest suitcase first, and haphazardly rummaged through the neatly packed clothes. Finding nothing blue, he rapidly turned his attention to the smaller of the bags, and in his haste, he turned the bag over and emptied it onto the floor. Immediately, his eyes caught the pale blue item and he reached for it in the midst of the other clothes. As his hand went to grip the sweater, he felt a harder surface, and slid it out from beneath the clothes. Only a small black notebook emerged from the garments, but why would she take an old notebook on a trip? He flipped open the book, and began to read entries. It was some sort of ongoing study that she was conducting on her own. He looked carefully at the structural drawings that she had made. There were sets of DNA nucleotides that did not exist. What was she working on? Maybe this was the clue to her illness. Remembering that she was waiting for the sweater, he placed the notebook deep into his jacket pocket, then picked up her sweater before returning to her. Later, he would have time to examine it more closely.

--------

Sleep was rapidly becoming a luxury that was only offered in small amounts and at unusual times. After waiting two hours to be able to confer with the best in Psychology that the University of Toronto had to offer, Mark could have fallen asleep on his well equipped lab floor. And to top it all off, the conclusion that the professor came up with was no more than hate your mother psychobabble. One thing that he knew for sure, Natalie's dream was not some contrived bits and pieces of childhood conflicts. It represented something real, far too real to remember. Moreover, it had something to do with what happened the night she was found unconscious. Something happened somewhere between the time she left the Morgue and Detective Knight's discovery of her. But, whatever happened, it was not a surprise. She knew something was going to happen. She had prepared for it- even packed. That was the answer that she had gone looking for, and somewhere, somehow, she found it. But it destroyed her, no-almost destroyed her. He pulled the small black book from the inside pocket of his jacket, and placed it on the lab table in front of him. The answer had to be in this book. Why else would she bring it?

Guilt tore at him as he stared at the closed notebook that he had stolen from her suitcase. He tried to shake off the unclean sensation that came with having this private book in his possession, and he even tried to justify the benefits of delving into its secrets. However, he could not walk away from the thought that he was in some way taking advantage of her situation, almost violating her. He picked up the notebook and nervously shifted it from hand to hand. What if this held the answers for her? How could he just stand on the sidelines, when he could be helping her? Checking around him to be certain that he was still alone, he flipped open the cover to the first page. The first entry was dated over six years ago. This experiment had been going on for a long time now. Now he understood more clearly her reasons for being so secretive around him when using his powerful scope. Her own study, but if she were leaving, why would she need all this information with her? Surely, she could have locked it away in one of her drawers for a little while, while she was on vacation. And surely, she would not have been afraid to trust her staff unless what she was working on was dangerous. His eyes moved off the page and he closed them tightly. She wasn't planning a short trip. She was not coming back, she was arranging to possibly leave forever. He slammed the notebook closed, and shook his head sorrowfully. She had gone to Detective Knight's building. Was she going to run away with him? Was he involved in this dangerous experiment of hers? She knew something would happen that night, but what did happen was unexpected and almost deadly. Desperately, he tried to imagine what the unexpected event could be, but nothing came to him. Again, he stared down at the black book. The answer was here within his grasp, and he was going to uncover it. Turning over the book, he flipped blank pages until he came to the last written page. The final entry had only been last week. There was only a short notation that stated, 'Nick is not able to tolerate another ingredient.' A note stood out on the bottom of the page. It simply read, "Viable options appear to be becoming limited." The statement was clear. The experiment was not giving satisfactory results, and that alternate plans were scarce. So, she must have been feeling desperate in seeing a bleak future to six years of hard work. She must have tried one last attempt, something unconventional, something risky. What did she do? Whatever it was, it almost killed her left her with no memory of any of it. This research was important enough to her to place her life in danger. He had to keep her experiment going. He loved her too much to let her dream die. One day, he would present to her all the answers to her questions. One day she would come to love him as much as he loved her. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he turned back to the beginning of the notebook and began to read.

--------

Nick watched the last light of the sun dissolve away into evening, over the city of Toronto, from his living rooms window. Almost a year had passed, and his life as a mortal was very fulfilling except for love. Relationships still were a large concern, at least long term ones. He always had an excuse as to why he could not get involved with any woman, but the truth was that in his heart no one could take Nat's place.

Phil, his new boss, had turned out to be a great guy and a good private investigator. However, here too a void continued to persist, being in the private sector was no substitute for being on the force. Reese had been in constant contact with him, and had made sure that the most complex of crimes was followed through with Phil's consultations. There were days when he was certain that he saw Reese more as a consultant than when he worked with him. But life as a private investigator lacked enthusiasm. Most of their work, when not consulting with the force consisted of tracking down runaways and spying on unfaithful spouses. He knew that he did not remain with Phil for the work. Phil had turned out to be his best friend. In fact, many times he thought that he could have been Schanke's twin brother. So much about them was the same, their sense of humor, their devotion to justice, and most of all the enormous appetite. All these attributes made him feel as if he had been given a second chance with his past partner.

The appeals in the Internal Affairs department had turned out to take much longer than expected. With all of his influence, Reese had still not been granted a new hearing date for Nick. But time moved on, and he still thought of Nat everyday. So many times he had passed by her, or had seen her off in the distance at the precinct. So many times, he felt as if his heart were being crushed by her almost non-existent knowledge of him. Once she was standing near him for close to an hour, and he had almost said something, he had almost touched her. He watched her every movement when she would appear in the same room, but never once did she notice him. Then only last week came the worst blow of all. Phil had sent him to pick up a few files from Captain Reese at the precinct, and he by chance walked right into a surprise engagement party for Natalie and Dr. Harmond. As his heart broke, he watched her. She looked so happy, they both did. Dr. Harmond had been in the middle of toasting Reese for having brought them together when he turned towards Nick to add an additional comment. Nick felt that Mark Harmond had looked at him strangely, but he dismissed the thought after the glowing acknowledgement of Nick's part in their lives. Mark had held his glass high, and thanked him for bringing his future wife to safety on that fateful night. Everyone had cheered the tribute, and he had heard that the party had gone on for a long time after he had left with the files. Although it had hurt, he knew that finally Nat was on her way to the life she deserved to be living.

Nick looked towards the lake. The sky in that direction seemed to have an unusual aura tonight and something definitely felt different in his bones. Maybe it was his cop's instinct that he felt or maybe it was some part of the vampire that still lingered, but the feeling was undeniable. He turned sharply to view the room, almost expecting to see LaCroix, but all was still. LaCroix had been out of his life, at least he had not seen, or heard from him since the day he had left Nat's apartment. Time had gone by so quickly, only four years remained. Now that he saw for himself that Nat was well and happy, he could feel more relaxed. Although he had made certain that he would not become serious with any mortal woman, he had not refrained from enjoying their company. The only thing that he needed to remember was that a long lasting relationship would only end in disaster. LaCroix would return to claim him, he was only biding his time. He turned back to the window when he heard the hollow sound of a ship's horn in the distance. Yes, something was different tonight. He closed his window blinds.

--------

Buried alive. Vachon had felt it before, but it was on his top ten list of things he least liked to do. Trying to move around in the wooden coffin seemed hopeless, especially with the wood so swollen from the dampness. There was something worse than being buried alive, being buried in a leaky wet box. Water droplets clung to the top of the box over his face, and slowly dripped down on him. This had to be some sort of torture; but then again, it was better than being dead. He was supposed to be dead. It sure felt like he was dying when the little girl, or should he say demon, attacked him. The pain and the pleasure from her attack had devastated him; there was no defense. When Tracy had arrived at the abandoned church, he wanted to kill her. Actually, he needed her to kill him, to finish him off. Never had he felt all of his life drained away like that, not even when his master had brought him across. He was possessed and too helpless to fight her effects off, the only answer was to complete the destruction she had started. Or so he thought, until he had awaked to find himself half-starved and neatly put away into the ground. When he had asked Tracy to drive the wooden stake through his heart, she had refused. In his delirium, he waited for the exact moment to charge at her and pin her to the wall knowing that the stake she held would do the job for her. It had been a direct hit to his heart, but she had removed it. Didn't she know anything from all the vampire movies? Now he could again resurrect from the dead. He started to laugh as he remembered scenes from Dracula films with the vampire rising from his coffin deep in some ancient darkened crypt. The laughing came to an abrupt stop, why was he mocking that, at least they were not under tons of dirt. What he would give to not have to dig his way out of this mess.

Looking around his burial box for a way out, he wondered how he could have survived that vicious assault and the barrage of visions that had followed. Maybe the act of driving the stake through the heart halted the progression of the disease that consumed him. Perhaps the evil thoughts that threaten to take away his sanity could only be silenced by death. Whatever had happened, the effects of his unfortunate encounter, were gone. He placed both hands against the top of the coffin and pushed hard. It would not budge. Why did she have to go and bury him in a coffin? When he had buried Screed, he placed him directly into the dirt and sand near the water. But that was Tracy, always doing things the proper way. He stopped trying to force open the top for a moment, and reminisced about how concerned she had been. The sound of her voice, her innocent youthful face, and the scent of her blood. Blood, he needed blood. If he was ever going to see her again, and let her know that he was alive then he had to get out of here and find some nourishment. In frustration, he kicked savagely at the end causing the wood to send cracks down the sides. He kicked hard again, this time crashing through the bottom panel. Well, at least his feet were out. With the sides now severed from his forceful kicks, he used his small amount of vampire strength to knock out one long side that ran down the length of his body, and was then able to touch the dirt. It was almost the consistency of sand, and he realized that he wasn't in a cemetery, unless he was buried in Las Vegas. Pushing the wet sandy dirt away to make room for his body to slide out, he slid himself to the side just as the remaining splintered box caved in from the pressure above him. Now, he only wished to remain conscious long enough to find his way to the surface, and with a little luck have no one around that would instantly become a long awaited meal.

Feeling like he was in quicksand, he violently swung out in every direction pushing away sand that threatened to suffocate him. He closed his eyes as the abrasive particles scrapped at the skin on his face and arms. Time reacted like it too was caught in this quicksand like consistency, as he struggled to where he thought was the way up. After expending energy that he really could not afford to lose, his one hand finally reached up and felt nothing. He rapidly brought his other arm up in the same direction, and felt only a breeze whisk across his irritated skin. With his goal now so close, he found the motivation to drag his worn body to the surface and collapse onto the ground. After a moment to catch his breath, he rolled onto his back. Still lying flat against the ground, he stared up into the sky. It was nighttime. Funny how he had not even thought about what would await him when he crawled out of his grave. Maybe he had known instinctively, maybe the night had called him. A fresh breeze from the lake washed over him as ship horns sounded far off in the distance. It felt good to be back. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he looked around him. He was almost on a secluded part of the beach near the water. No wonder the place he was buried in was so wet and sandy. Here is where he had buried Screed. A smile crossed his lips. Yeah, Tracy would think to bury him next to Screed. He breathed in deeply through the drifting night mist that floated past him. It was a good place to be buried. No mortals around, and covered now in three-foot high weeds. In the late spring and the summer, this place must be almost invisible to mortals strolling along the water's edge. He could hear the occasional ringing of a buoy as he looked over at the lighted tall buildings across the water. For a moment, the CN Tower's flashing tip mesmerized him. The dirt that had just imprisoned him had become an unconscious toy to be sifted through his fingers as he just sat and appreciated life. Even the simple act of watching the lights from the shore reflect white streams on the waters gently rippling surface, was a pleasure.

The view was captivating, but the hunger was stronger. He closed his eyes and listened. The sound of a rapidly fluttering heartbeat renewed his desire for sustenance. A small animal was moving in his direction, most likely he had also been in search of a meal when surprised to see an invader on his hunting grounds. Curiosity compelled the rodent like creature to investigate, and it moved closer. Playfully, Vachon smiled at the animal then locked onto its eyes with his. This wasn't his idea of gourmet dining, but Screed would have understood. Anyway, this was just to tide him over until he could get home and indulge in his own vintage stock. The rodent willing moved to within Vachon's reach and encountered a rapid demise. Shakily standing up, he threw the animal's body into the brush before looking into the sky and taking off into the moonlit darkness.

--------

Being buried alive was bad, but nothing to the shock that came next. Four days after his emergence back into life, and there were still no signs of Tracy or Urs. Tonight had been the third evening in a row that he had waited on his motorcycle in the shadows for someone to come out of the precinct's door that he could talk to. Two hours had passed tonight, and no sign of Tracy or Knight. He had tried her apartment, but it had been rented out to someone else. If she had moved, did that mean that she was also gone from the city? She loved her job too much to have left. Something felt very wrong and if he had to, he would walk into that precinct and find out for himself. His hands impatiently gripped the handlebars as thoughts of his missing child Urs began to fill his mind. Where was everyone? It was a surprise enough to find out that he had been recovering underground for a year, but the time loss did not explain where everyone went. Urs would come back to him, she always did. When she thought that he had died, she must have taken off to start over in a new place, but Tracy was too attached to this city to run away. He had to get some answers, somewhere. He could not just sit here night after night waiting any longer. Straddling the leather seat, he kick started the engine, just as a large green Caddy pulled into the parking lot. Shutting off the motor, he got off his bike. For a moment, he stood there like he didn't quite remember how he got there, but then he moved to intercede Knight. Nick stared at him as if he had seen a ghost, and of course, he had. Vachon seriously enjoyed the attention until Tracy's partner began to smile. Supernatural occurrences still had no lasting effect on him after all that he had seen in several lifetimes. So that Vachon had somehow survived Divia's onslaught was interesting but not impossible, after all hadn't he? Nevertheless, his days as a vampire were on temporary suspension, and he had no interest in being blocked access to his workplace from any members of his past. Nick tried to walk around him, but Vachon was too insistent. Not wanting to cause a scene, Nick stood still and firmly stared at him.

"Vachon, tell me what's going on?"

"That's funny Knight, cause I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Look, I am glad that you have survived, but this doesn't make us friends. I have work to do."

"I'm not looking for friendship either. I'm looking for Tracy."

Nick froze at the mention of his deceased partner's name. As the color drained from his face, he began to feel cold inside. Next week would mark the first anniversary of her death. If Vachon had just regenerated and emerged from where Tracy had buried him, he was unaware of all that had transpired. Now that he realized the situation, he tried to act with more sensitivity before again speaking to Vachon.

"Vachon, Tracy died last year, I am so sorry."

"No," he whispered as he shook his head. Feeling as if he were trapped in a bad dream, he moved near the Caddy for support and leaned against it. "How did it happen?"

"It was an accident, she was shot. There would have been nothing that you could have done to help her."

Vachon slowly nodded while staring blankly at Nick and tried to assimilate this new troubling revelation in his life. His eyes left Nick and moved to the ground as he tried to gather the strength to prepare him for a life without her naivete, smiles, and caring gestures for him. Raising one arm, he raked the fingers of one hand through his long dark hair before returning his questions to her ex-partner. "Where is she? I want to go to her."

"She was buried in a family plot. I'll take you there if you like."

Again Vachon had no verbal reply, but only nodded in silence. He thought of how one of her last acts must have been to bury him near his friend, then spoke again in disbelief of her passing. "Did she have me buried next to Screed?"

A warm sensation of Tracy's deeds filled Nick as he replied with a smile. "Yes, that was her idea. She really cared for you. It was hard for her for a while after you died, but LaCroix later fixed that. Her only memory was that you were a friend and a vampire that needed to move on."

"Thanks Knight. I didn't want to hurt her. It's always hard when they die, isn't it?"

"We never want to hurt them, but we always do. I know that it never gets easier to live with their deaths; part of the curse of immortality. It hurts that she is gone. I miss her too."

The sadness between them hung heavy in the air, as the busy activity of the mortal world of the Precinct hurriedly moved around them. Then feeling bewildered, Vachon stared at Nick. "There's something different about you Knight."

"It is not important."

Dismissing his confusion, Vachon absentmindedly agreed. "Yeah, probably not." With a defeated look, Vachon moved a few steps back towards his parked motorcycle, but suddenly stopped and turned back. Nick had already reached the precinct's back door when Vachon called out after him.

"Wait Knight!" In a moment, Vachon was back at his side, and the two of them walked back towards the Caddy. "Do you know where Urs is?"

Stopping in his tracks, Nick tightly closed his eyes. He could still remember seeing her on the floor in his elevator torn to pieces and covered in blood. She had also been a victim of Divia's ruthlessness. Vachon had already been bitten by LaCroix's daughter, and he had not known that Urs had been a target too. Nick took in a long breath and released it before opening his eyes to the waiting vampire.

"She's gone too. The girl that attacked you went after her as well. I found her lifeless body in my elevator the same night that you were viciously ambushed."

"No, not Urs. Why? Urs was good. How could anyone do that to her?"

"The one who did this has been destroyed, but not before she had done tremendous damage."

"Where are Urs's remains?"

"I brought her to Dr. Lambert. We tried to figure out what had killed her. We couldn't understand what had such power."

Vachon stared into the ground, trying to control the pain from all his losses. The only thing he knew for certain about immortality was that no matter how many times he had experienced a personal loss, it never got any easier. First, the news of Tracy and now Urs, he was beginning to wonder if it was so wonderful to be back after all. The years had certainly hardened him for he could not even shed a single tear; it was so hard to believe that she was gone. Urs was his daughter and his best friend, how he would miss her presence. Her presence, why did he not feel her lack of presence? In a sudden outburst of excitement, Vachon returned his gaze to Nick.

"She's not dead! Don't you see? If I survived the attack, so could she! I need to get to her."

Nick shook his head. "Wait, you may have survived because of your age. Urs was young."

"No, she's alive. I would have felt it if she were gone. Take me to her. I can help."

Taking in a deep breath, he steadied himself for the next information he was about to give Vachon. "I do not know where she is."

The tension was thick in the air between them as Vachon tried to hold back his frustration, and lower his voice. "What do you mean you don't know? You just told me that you saw her die and so did that doctor friend of yours."

"Yes, but I did not bury her."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know."

Vachon walked a few paces away trying to make sense of the situation, and trying to figure out what to do next. Then he approached Nick again. "Urs could be stuck underground somewhere, and you can't help me? Then maybe Dr. Lambert can."

"She may not be able to help you either."

"Why not? Did she suddenly turn against us?"

"She does not know about vampires. It's a long story."

"Which I'm sure that you'll tell me about on the way to her office." Vachon jumped into the front passenger side of the Caddy, and leaned over to address the car's owner. "Come on Knight, cause I'm not backing away."

Reluctantly, Nick opened the Caddy's door and slid behind the steering wheel. He was supposed to be mortal now, and that meant no vampire adventures. He looked over at his impatient friend, who only gestured for him to drive, so he started the car. As he backed out of the parking spot, he thought of how this was the last thing he wanted to get involved with, more vampire affairs. However, if Vachon was correct, then they did need to find her. The drive to the Coroner's building was quiet except for Vachon's occasional questions about what it was about his driver that seemed different. Luckily, Vachon was too distracted with Urs's fate to realize that the former vampire was now mortal. A few times, he tried to explain Nat's amnesia to Vachon without giving too many other details about that night away, but the young vampire was too anxious about Urs's whereabouts to concentrate on his words.

Finding a place to park on the street in front of the Morgue, Vachon was up the steps and by the door before Nick had stepped out onto the sidewalk. After turning and waiting for Nick to catch up to him, he again noted in confusion, "You know, there's something different about you."

With patience wearing thin, Nick sighed. "Just let me take the lead in there."

Walking the halls of the morgue side by side, they drew some curious stares. Although Nick was well dressed, Vachon's long unkempt hair, three days of beard growth, jeans and a leather jacket looked very out of place. It did not take them long to arrive at Nat's door. The way was so ingrained, that Nick could have found his way there in his sleep. But now, his yearlong abstinence from her workplace was beginning to weigh heavily on him as he stared at the door before him. How many times had he gone through this door to see her? Hundreds, maybe thousands of times? But now the thought of walking into the next room seemed so foreign, so unnatural. His concerned thoughts of facing Nat directly after all this time were shattered as Vachon nudged him.

"I know I've been away for a while, but I think if you push on the door, it will open."

Without reacting to Vachon's sarcasm, Nick pushed on the door and walked in. It was then that it felt as if time had stood still. He saw her as he had so many times before, sitting at her desk. As if in a dream, he moved towards her then stopped as she looked up at them. In what seemed to be slow motion, she stood up and captured Nick's gaze like they were the only two in the room. Everything around them felt unreal to him. He could have sworn that she floated towards him, as her intent stare seemed to be not looking at him but through him. He could tell that his act of walking through her door had touched some far away memory that could not be reached. Neither of them spoke. Both looked deeply into the other's eyes as she searched to identify that feeling that transcended memory. She tried to connect the past part of a life that had been left unfilled and wondered if that lost feeling would ever be recovered. The world comfortably faded around them with him not daring to approach her, and her not understanding her desire to reach out to him. With his patience rapidly dissipating with their silence, Vachon stepped out from behind Nick and spoke up. "You will let me know if I'm intruding? But I thought we were here to get some information?" With their spell broken, Nick watched as Nat struggled to clear the fog from her thoughts. Clearing her throat, she felt embarrassed as she spoke up. "I'm so sorry. I've been so distracted lately. Please forgive me. Is there something I can help you with?"

Since Natalie had been looking at him, Vachon spoke first. "Actually, yes there is..." Nick interrupted him by carefully pushing him back.

"We were hoping you could help us locate a body that came through here a little over a year ago."

Nat smiled. "Well, I'm sure I can do something to help. Is this for a case?"

"An old case. We need to know where the body is for a relative." Vachon smiled as Nick gestured to him.

Moving back towards her desk she flipped open the pages to the middle of a large binder and looked up. "Well that shouldn't be too difficult. What did you say was the name of the deceased?"

Seeing her exploring the pages of the book, he knew that Nat would never have recorded vampire information in a public place. In fact, he was fairly certain that all evidence of Urs's existence had been disposed of. Such information would be too dangerous to have around, and she had been very aware of that. He moved close to the desk, and closed the binder.

"She would not be in your book."

"What do you mean? Each body that comes through here is documented. If she was in this Morgue, then she is in this book."

"This was a special case, highly confidential."

Feeling as if her ethics were at stake, her words lashed out at Nick. "Now listen! This is a very professionally run office. There are no cover-ups here, and to tell you the truth I resent your implications."

Pulling Nick off to the side, Vachon whispered to him. "You were right, she really doesn't remember. Let me whammy her. I'll get the information."

"No. She has lost too much already."

After speaking privately with Vachon, Nick moved back to Nat who was seething with anger. "Dr. Lambert, I am not implying that anything unprofessional or illegal occurred. I only know that this did involve special circumstances. If a name were assigned to her, it would not be her true name. It is extremely important that we locate her body. It is a life or death situation. Could you tell us where a body would go from here that had no identity?"

"She was a Jane Doe then?" Moving over to the keyboard of her computer, she typed in a command. "What month was she here?"

Shaking his head, he tried to stop her. "Dr. Lambert, it will not be in there either."

Feeling out of control, she snapped back at him. "Let me try! What month?"

"January 1996."

Typing in the numbers, she looked up. "I have two Jane Doe's listed. How old was she?"

Excited by Nat's findings, Vachon rushed to the other side of the computer and looked at the monitor. "In her twenties, and she was blonde and beautiful."

Defeated, Nat looked over at Vachon. "One woman was a young black woman, the other was elderly."

Anger took control of Vachon and he turned from the computer and slammed his fist against the desk. "She's not in your computer!"

Trying to calm the situation Nick called out, "Vachon!" Then as the vampire walked away, Nick turned back to Nat. "Doctor, we need to know where she may have been buried."

With one distrustful eye still on Vachon, Natalie turned back and tried to focus on the computer. Eliciting another command, she reached over to the printer. With the freshly printed list in her hand, she turned back and handed Nick the page. "These are the public cemeteries where unclaimed bodies are sent to. If she was here, then you should find her."

Rushing back to Nick, Vachon pulled the list from his hand and began to walk towards the door but stopped as Nat called after him. "Unless she wasn't buried."

It was almost impossible for him to speak with the sensation of his fangs emerging through his gums. He could only manage one word as he turned back and stared at her.

"What?"

"She will be there unless she was cremated."

With her words, Vachon lost his control and angrily approached her, but Nick was prepared and came to Nat's rescue. She had no idea the danger she had placed herself in by so nonchalantly bringing up such a possibility. If Nat had ordered Urs's body cremated, then she would surely be dead. She was far too young too rise from the ashes. Burning her vampire body would have totally eliminated any chance to regenerate. After calming Vachon, Nick carefully approached Nat who looked as if she was about to reach for the telephone to call security with the slightest provocation. With tremendous composure, he attempted to understand. "Cremated? Why would a body be cremated?"

"Well, she may have died of something contagious, or there was a request from someone, or if the expense of burial was too high at the time."

With all seriousness, he looked into her eyes. "Dr. Lambert, do you remember ordering any body to be cremated?"

"Not anyone recently, but I had an accident as you know around that time. I don't remember everything that I did before that. She could have been cremated, and I would not recall."

Suddenly, he had forgotten why he was there. She had brought back a time that had changed their lives. His heart pined for her as he watched her look at him and he tenderly smiled. "Have you recovered from that night?"

"Yes, and we are so grateful to you. Mr. Knight? I have wanted to ask you this for a while. Will you come to our wedding? We'll be sending out invitations soon, but with all that you did for me, I felt I should tell you in person how important your presence would be."

"I may be working, but thank you for thinking of me."

"Mark and I would not accept no for an answer. Please give me your word that you will come."

He swallowed hard. Why did everyone ask for his word to have him perform the impossible? "Yes, I will come if I can. Will you continue to work after the wedding?"

"Absolutely, my work is everything to me."

"But you work the late shift, you will be changing that right?"

"No, I have to work at night. Anyway I always felt drawn to the night."

"Have to?"

"I'm a little uncomfortable talking about it, but since the accident... Well, light makes me feel.... I don't know why I am bothering you with my problems. Really, there is no problem. Thank you for saying that you will come to the wedding."

With a crushing realization of what he had brought about, he spoke softly to her. "You are bothered by the light."

"Please don't say anything, only Mark knows. He thinks it is some side effect from the accident that night you saved me. I shouldn't have said anything. And it's really not that bad, just direct sunlight."

His eyes closed tightly in pain and regret, and then he reopened them to her as he whispered his words. "I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

With a short laugh and a big smile, she moved closer to him. "You make it sound like it is your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved my life and I will always be grateful."

He looked into her trusting eyes, the same eyes that had faithfully looked back at him the night he had bitten her. Guilt threatened to crush his soul. LaCroix had brought back her mortality, but at what expense? She was still condemned to a life of darkness. As he was free to stroll during the daylight hours, she shunned them. Traces of the vampire that he had infected her with still remained. He was certain that there were more traits that she had acquired, but there was nothing he could do.

"I will hold in confidence all that you have told me here."

"Thank you," she whispered and gazed back at him as she tenderly smiled. There was something about this man who stood before her, something that made her feel complete. She hated herself for even thinking such thoughts only a few weeks before her wedding date, but her eyes could not leave his. She felt herself sinking deeper and deeper into his gaze, and it almost frightened her. Here he was almost a stranger to her, yet she felt as if she had known him all her life. A part of her had changed when he walked into the room only fifteen minutes ago. Before he arrived, she was sure that she was the luckiest woman in the world to have been marrying Mark. Now she felt as if the commitment she had given to him was a prison term. This was so ridiculous. How could she feel so close and intimate with a person she hardly knew? It must be a result of her long working hours, or maybe she was experiencing cold feet at the wedding prospects. This had to be a fluke, but she refused to release her eyes from his gaze.

Vachon leaned against the green tiles of the lab and watched them gazing into each other's eyes. They were so obviously in love, but they reacted so detached from each other. What they said with their eyes, even from his vantage point across the room was so vastly different from what they spoke. They talked as if they hardly knew one another, but all other parts of their bodies said something else. So, what if Dr. Lambert had lost her memory, Knight should just tell her what they were to each other. Why would he let her marry another when it was so clear how they both felt? Okay, so vampires and mortals don't mix well, but they could at least have what they had before she forgot everything. He closed his eyes and listened to the softly beating hearts in the room, then immediately both eyelids popped open again. It couldn't be. How could he hear two mortal hearts with one mortal and two vampires? He smiled. Unless the stiff on the slab was about to rise from the dead, the other heartbeat was Knight's. Knight was mortal! That was what the difference was in him. 'Damn' he cursed himself for being so slow, but then eight hundred-year-old vampires becoming mortal does not happen everyday.

Vachon lifted his shoulder from the wall as he straightened himself and moved towards Nick. "Knight. I know what's different about you. I can hear your..." Knowing what was about to come out of Vachon's mouth, Nick rapidly turned his head towards the vampire and glared at him to remain quiet. After watching Vachon's smirk and quiet retreat, Nick looked back to Nat.

"We have to leave now. Thank you Dr. Lambert for all your help."

With only a few steps, Nick caught up to Vachon and almost pushed him through the door and out into the hall. Once in the hall it was clear that Nick did not feel like talking as he pushed past Vachon without a word and quickened his pace so as to cause Vachon to almost run to keep up with him.

"What's going on here Knight? You're a mortal. I heard your heart beating as loudly as I heard hers."

Angrily Nick stopped, and it took all of Vachon's vampire skills not to collide into him. "Yes! I am mortal, and nothing is going on here!"

"Nothing huh? Did that demon child do this to you, the one that got me and Urs?"

"No, Listen Vachon, I have already done more than I should have. Now you have the list, so go and find Urs."

"I will, I will, but you have to help me."

"You do not need my help, you have the list. She is buried in one of those cemeteries."

"Unless your 'friend' in there had her cremated."

"Well if she did, I still cannot help you."

Vachon held up the list to Nick. "There must be fifty cemeteries on this list, and Urs could be buried alive in any one of them. There is only so much I can do during the night hours, if you catch my drift?"

Looking at the long list of printed names, Nick sighed. "You want me to search during the day. I'll do what I can."

Placing an arm over Nick's shoulders, Vachon grinned. "You know Knight, I could help you out of this predicament?"

"I wouldn't suggest trying it Vachon. LaCroix already has designs on my mortal soul. You'll have to wait your turn."

Backing away like Nick was a wooden stake covered in garlic, Vachon stuffed the paper into his pocket. "Well, in that case, I have some searching I should get to. I left my bike at the precinct, you do think it will be safe there?" He smiled as they walked out the door together. Seeing the Caddy before him, Nick walked to the car as Vachon moved towards the back of the building presumably to find a place to take off from. Although he did not see Vachon leave, he was sure he was half way to the first name on the list Nat had given them, before he had time to start the Caddy's engine.

--------

Nat was still staring at the door several minutes after Nick and his friend had left. Why did she feel so right in Knight's presence? Why did she feel closer to him then the man she was about to marry? Feelings and emotions had stirred inside her when he had walked through her door. Instinct not memories attracted her to him. It was very apparent that Mark did not make her feel this way, that was without doubt. But she loved Mark; he had helped her to get well, and had stayed by her side night and day. He cared for her, and he was a good man. Freeing her stare of the door, she crossed the room and sat wearily at her desk. She was mentally listing Mark's attributes. Why was she trying to convince herself that she must be in love with him? Of course, she loved Mark; any woman would be out of her mind not to love him. He was intelligent, kind, and very handsome. She stopped herself; she was again listing reasons to herself to be in love with him. It was only a bad case of nerves that was making her forget all that he had done for her. Mr. Knight's nearness had only reminded her of that terrible time and that had caused her to forget how much Mark meant to her. But she had so easily confided her secret about shunning the light, a concealed fact that she had not disclosed to anyone but Mark. And even he had only come to know of her affliction when he had finally seen the correlation between their dating schedule and the dark hours. It was when he confronted her about his observation that she had confessed to him her mysterious needs, but even this was done in hesitation. To this day, she had regretted telling him, and if he hadn't already seemed to know, she would never have shared that information with him. Mark made her feel strange when her light limitations showed up. He would ask her so many questions every time she experienced any discomfort, that she would think herself to be one his subjects from his experiments. But he did not know that his endless observations of her were upsetting. He was only trying to help her. Somehow, his way of help always made her feel like a freak of nature. Like the way he would always need another batch of tubes of blood from her, and that he would always make sure that they were alone to draw the blood in his lab. It was becoming a strange ritual that each and every date would end with Mark withdrawing another tube from her so that he could help her with her problem. She had once kidded him about how most guys end a date with a good night kiss, but he still brought a syringe and needle on each of their encounters. Okay, so he wasn't the most romantic man around, but he did care. Yes, everything that Mark did was with her best interest in mind. She laughed to herself. She really was having a bad case of cold feet. Her wedding day would soon be here; the thought made her involuntarily shudder. Taking in a deep breath, she tried to act strong, not frightened. Everything would be fine as soon as she calmed herself and then settled into a life of wedded bliss. Her thoughts then drifted back to the man she had just shared her most intimate secret with. She could not forget his eyes; they seemed to be endless pools of emotions. They captivated her still, they seemed to be telling her something, something that she felt she already knew but just couldn't remember. It was as if his soul reached out to her through his gaze, and she felt that if she could go beyond the surface she would understand the timeless story of humanities pain and pleasures. There was something so ancient and yet so new that shown in those eyes. She shook her head and tried to blink away the picture of him from her mind. It was only a strange trick of the late hour that made her feel these things of this man. Anyway, it was the other, the one he called Vachon that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. There was something unduly intimate, too personal that he touched inside her. The sensation from him bothered her. With his close proximity came the sensation of pins and needles over every inch of her skin. A near painful tingling consumed her, as if every nerve ending was on alert. It was very uncomfortable, and she hoped that she would never need to be in the same room as him again. Yet even though he made her feel tense, there was also something beyond the physical sensation that was familiar. There was something soothing about the intense sensation that he evoked; it made her feel as if she were a part of him. She replayed her last few thoughts in her mind, then shook her head. These thoughts had to stop. It had been an exhausting night, and it was obvious that she needed rest. This was all too much excitement for a woman who was about to be married. Suddenly, she awakened from her daydreams with a sound from across the room, and involuntarily gasped as Mark walked towards her. She had been so engrossed in thought that she had not noticed him entering the Morgue.

"Feeling jumpy tonight Natalie?"

"No, I was just thinking."

"About us? That seems to be the only thing I think about lately." He smiled as he moved to her desk and pulled her up and into his arms.

"Yes I was thinking about us, about the wedding. In fact, I just saw Mr. Knight and personally invited him to the wedding. That is what you wanted right?"

"I only want what is best for you. I want to make you happy. You never have to worry Natalie, whatever happens we'll be together."

Everything seemed to be going well until he had said the part about being together no matter what happens. Those few words hurt her; they made her angry though she didn't know why. Pulling away from his embrace, she reacted to the innocent expression of his love.

"Why did you say that?"

Confusion mixed with the surprise of her actions, and he tried to remember what he had said that had upset her. "Please Natalie. I love you. Don't be upset."

Seeing that her strange response had hurt him, she rushed back into his arms and held him tightly. Why did his words anger and frighten her so? The words were sweet, but his voice was not how she had remembered them being said before. Someone had said the same words to her before, and that person had lied. Those words were a declaration of betrayal. If only all these pieces could come back to her. Who had said this to her before, and why? The more she racked her brain the less it all made sense, but she continued until her head ached. Maybe this was all from a past life. She only knew that somewhere she had heard those words before, and she had given all that she had to give, only to be deceived. Mark pulled back to look at her, but still held her around her waist.

"Was the visit from Mr. Knight that traumatic?"

"No, he was very pleasant. He needed information on an old case. I don't think I was much help to him, but it did give me a good chance to invite him."

"What case Natalie?"

"Just some Jane Doe, but I couldn't help."

"Why not?"

"There was no record of her. It was before my accident. It must have had some top security clearance."

"There was no record of a body that came through here? Isn't that highly irregular?"

"I would have thought that it was impossible, but they seemed to think that she was brought here."

"They? I thought you saw only Knight."

"He had a relative or something of the deceased. Why are you so interested?"

"I don't know, it just sounded strange that there would be no records. So what did you tell them?"

"Well, the only thing I could do was to give them a list of places that the city might have buried her in. Boy, you should have seen the reaction the other one had when I told them it was possible that she might have been cremated. I mean if she meant so much to him where was he when her body sat unidentified? You would have thought that I killed her."

Looking off almost lost in thought he murmured, "Maybe you did kill her?" Then breaking out of his fog, he tried to recover. "I mean killed her in a way. Some families only accept a proper burial."

"Well, I think that over a year is a little too late to be blaming others."

"This happened over a year ago?"

"We were looking in the files of January of 1996."

"Did they have a name for her?"

"No, I only heard that she was young and blonde and beautiful, but maybe her last name was Vachon. I heard Mr. Knight call him that, but it could have been his first name too. Vachon... Isn't that a beautiful foreign sounding name?"

Repeating the name as if to memorize it, he acknowledged Natalie's comment. "Vachon, yes a very nice name. Probably not too many people around here with that name."

Pulling away from him playfully, she smiled. "So are you through interrogating me?"

"I'm sorry Natalie, I was just curious. Not everyday do you get visitors asking about a Jane Doe from over a year ago. Guess I should have been a detective with all my questions." Walking over to the file cabinet, he opened a drawer and picked out a form before re-closing the cabinet. "I need some paper to write down a few notes, can I use this?" Folding the paper carefully, he placed it inside his jacket pocket.

"Those are just blank forms, why don't you use some of the paper on my desk? Never mind that should work just fine. Forgive me Mark, I shouldn't have been so touchy about your questions. I think we are looking for distractions with all the stress from the wedding coming up so fast."

"I'm sure you're right Natalie. So what else did Mr. Knight have to say?"

"Nothing Mark. Why are you always so interested in him? Are you jealous?"

"No, I mean he must have asked you about your health?"

"Yes, he was concerned."

"And?"

"And I told him that I was fine and that...was...it!"

"And are you fine Natalie?"

"Yes I am, despite all your overprotection. Are you fine?"

Pulling her back into his arms, he kissed her passionately. Then held her tightly against him as he whispered in her ear. "You know that as long as you are near me, I'm fine. I'll never leave you, Natalie."

Again she became bombarded with helplessness at his words, and felt faint. Now she was positive that she had heard someone else say I'll never leave you to her. Her brain was taking her down paths that only led to dead ends. Words that she knew meant everything transformed into words that meant nothing. One day she would remember, and on that day all the flashes of memories would unite and bring back to her the life she had lost. She snuggled against Mark, being next to him felt safe, but always something felt as if it were missing. When her memories would return, she could be with him fully. He deserved that. As she enjoyed Mark's loving security, a bit of guilt plagued her. She had not mentioned to Mark that she had told Mr. Knight about her problem with the light. She knew that it was better to not tell him too much, Mark was always so overly cautious when he was around Mr. Knight. And too many times Nick Knight's name had found their way into their conversations, it almost seemed as if he were obsessed with him. Rumors around the precinct of her and Nick Knight being more than friends undoubtedly upset Mark. However, he was the man she was going to marry. She hardly knew who Nick Knight was. As long as Mark acted this concerned about Mr. Knight, there was no reason to fuel the fire. If she would tell, Mark now that she had divulged a secret that only the two of them had shared, it would only make matters worse. This whole situation was interesting, Nick Knight was interesting. She held Mark in her arms, but in her mind, she held the picture of Nick Knight's deep eternal eyes.

--------

The sun shone golden and reflected bits of light through his wind-blown hair as he pulled the older model convertible into the driveway that led to the cemetery. As soon as he drove through the gates, he spotted a small building off to the side, and parked the Caddy by its entrance. An old stone house discolored from age stood off to the side of the opened wrought iron gates. No one seemed to be around, so he got out of the car and stood by its side, wishing that he did not have to be here. He looked out over the level terrain, scanning the vast acres of tombstones that occupied the area for as far as his eyes could see. So many lives that filled these grounds, each with its own unique story. Thousands upon thousands of humans most of whose lives never touched, now rested side by side within these stone walls and massive iron bars. He shuddered when he thought of how many graveyards he had packed with his past acts. As sorrow threatened to drown him, he remembered why he had come and made his way towards the caretaker's home. This had been the third public burial place that he had visited in as many days. He was glad that it was Vachon that was visiting these places at night rather than him. It had always made him uneasy to linger among the dead. Maybe he was superstitious, or maybe he was just frightened of the revenge the dead might like to take on him. It was distressing enough to be here when the light shown, but the dark was too foreboding.

Following the paving stones, he found himself at an arched wooden door with a few quick steps. Then stepping onto the welcome mat, he rang the doorbell. The door suddenly swung opened before he could release the bell, and he jolted back.

"Sorry to startle you by getting the door so fast, but I don't get much company out here. At least not living company."

With a cautious smile, Nick struggled to regain his composure and calm his already grated nerves. The man before him was not at all attractive. He was probably around his own age, yet he appeared to be about a generation older. His skin was especially rough and jagged which was extremely apparent when he grasped his hand to shake it. There was not one hair that remained on his head, and although laundered, grass and dirt permanently stained his clothes. Trying to not appear revolted by the heavyset man with the swollen beer belly, Nick eagerly accepted the man's offer to come in. The place was tidy but sparse of furniture. The television was still playing. A bowl of pretzels and a beer can nestled together on the arm of an overstuffed chair that faced the small screen that used a cracked coffin for its stand. Seeing where Nick's attention was focused, the man laughed.

"Yeah. that old box is always a conversation piece. Never been used, got dropped in shipment on its way to the funeral director. I got a good deal on that one." Moving to the side of his unusual stand, he knocked his knuckles hard against the side. "Solid mahogany this one is." Forcing a quick smile, Nick flipped open his PI license.

"Mr...?"

Noting his hesitation, the caretaker finished his words. "The name's Everly, James Everly."

"Mr. Everly, I'm looking for a body for a loved one that may have been mistakenly buried here over a year ago."

"Is it the body of a young woman that was buried in a Jane Doe grave?" He grinned wildly revealing two missing front teeth.

Stunned but curious, he was speechless for a moment. Then finding his voice, he again questioned the man. "Yes it is, how did you know?"

Instead of answering him, Everly turned away then walked to the front door and disappeared through it. Nick rushed to pursue him, and found him several meters away from the house and gesturing for him to follow by the time he reached the door. Everly took Nick on a fast paced journey of over a kilometer as he maneuvered in between and around headstones before suddenly stopping next to a large mound of freshly dug earth. Then standing precariously on the edge of the deep opening, he pivoted around to face Nick.

"Here she is! She never had so much attention as she had in the past couple of days, especially for a Jane Doe that was buried without a soul saying a word. Yep those city folks just threw her in, no consideration at all."

Carefully, Nick stepped around the large mountain of dirt and peered down into the hollowed out grave. "It's empty. Where's the body?"

"Exhumed. I did exactly what the letter said. Official and all it was. I never go against the law."

"Who did this? When did it happen?"

"Whoa, now calm down there fellow. A nice looking young fellow came out here with the proper police forms, all signed and authorized. I dug her up last night, and he took her away."

"Why? Did he say why?"

Pulling a folded paper from is back pocket; Everly opened it and read. "Says here that she was needed for further testing of a crime."

Moving to the other side of the grave where Everly stood, Nick tried to view the document from over the caretaker's shoulder. "Can I see that?"

Handing over the dirty pages, the man almost seemed to be enjoying all the interest. "Sure. I can't see why not, but I will be needing them back. Don't know how many more will be coming by to see if I did things all proper." With the form securely in his hand, Nick's eyes moved directly to the bottom of the page. The form was the proper police form for exhumation, but the signatures were all wrong. Why would anyone go to all this trouble for Urs's body? Vachon certainly had nothing to do with this. He had left his home in the abandoned church just after sunrise, and he had told Nick that he had spent the entire night searching without success. Now he would have to inform him that Urs's body had been stolen, but worse than that were the implications. Someone had to know what she was, but who? This did not make sense. He handed the forms back the caretaker.

"Mr. Everly is there anything you can tell me about the man that brought these exhumation papers?"

Stuffing the papers back into his pocket, he thought as Nick patiently waited. "All I can tell you is that this guy was no bum off the street. Had expensive shoes, I always look at the shoes on a man, tells a lot about him. It always surprises me when a man is willing to walk through the mud with shoes that cost hundreds of dollars, without any concern. Shows he got other things on his mind. And his fingernails- manicured, buffed, and polished. Don't see many men doing that now, do you?"

Seeing that he was not getting positive identification, Nick opened his wallet and pulled out a business card. "Here's my card, if you think of anything else call me."

Excitedly, Everly pulled the card from his hand. "I'll do that!"

Nick walked back with Everly until they were on the main driveway, from there, he knew the way back to the car, and he started to separate from the caretaker. Everly walked in the direction of his house, kicking loose stones and rocks from the road. Then watching Nick get into his car, he called after him. "You can come back anytime, gets kinda lonely up here." Twisting around in his seat, Nick turned and waved then drove off. Everly walked through the unlocked door and went straight to the coffin he had fashioned into a stand for his television. Pressing against the side, the front opened into the room and he pulled out a picture that he held up to the light.

"Yeah Mr. Knight, looks like you took a mighty handsome picture. Not much else to do way out here, but saving all my visitors pictures sure does pass the time when it gets quiet." Carefully closing and resetting the hidden camera, he then opened a bottom drawer to pull out a large album. Re-finding his place on his comfortable chair, he opened the book to one of the last pages. One picture had already been placed on the newly started page, and he firmly pressed his new collector's item next to the other picture in his book. Holding the book at arms length in front of him, he smiled.

"Yeah, this is the perfect place for you Mr. Knight, right next to the guy you were looking for."

--------

Nick made his way up the darkened windowless stairwell of the old church using a flashlight and his memory to guide him. A dull glow from multiple burning candles emanated from the opening at the top of the stairs. Sliding the palm of one hand along the dusty walls as he moved upwards, he was relieved when he finally reached the top floor and passed through an arch that had once held a door. As he moved into the large opened space, he wondered if Vachon was awake. The sun had not yet set, but he had news that could not wait. The conditions of Vachon's living space were deplorable. No heat coupled with the lack of electricity made him, as a mortal, very uncomfortable. Scanning the candle lit room; Nick spotted the vampire sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. Shadows stretched long and dark as they danced behind him on the wall as the candles flickered. He knew that Vachon was aware of his presence. A mortal heartbeat always would vibrate hard in the ears of the predator. With Vachon silently staring into space and his guitar draped across his lap, Nick moved closer to him. With his solitude broken, Vachon solemnly stood up, and leaned his un-played instrument against the wall.

"What brings you here so early Knight? Have you located Urs?"

"You know there is no rule that states that vampires have to live like this, it's very depressing."

"So you are giving up detective work and becoming a therapist or is that an interior decorator? No more stalling, what did you find out?"

"I did find the place where Urs was buried. So we can rule out any possibility of cremation."

"That's great work detective! As soon as there is a little more cover of darkness, we can get her out of there."

"There is a problem. Someone found her first, and exhumed her body last night."

"What!? Are you telling me that her body was stolen? But we were the only ones looking for her. Who would do that?"

"That is something that I would be interested in knowing too. Could it be anyone from the community?"

"No. There would be no reason for that, you know that. This just happened last night? Why now, at the same time that we are looking for her? Who knew? You, your doctor friend, and me. It has to be her!"

"Don't you think that I have already thought of that? But she does not even remember what we are. What reason would there be for her to take Urs's body? There is something that we are missing. Someone else who would know of vampires."

"Then who would that be?"

"I don't know. Can't you locate her, now that she's out, through your link?"

"I've tried. I've tried non stop for the past week, there's no response."

"No response, like she is dead?"

Angrily, Vachon hissed at him. "No! No response like she is asleep."

Nick persisted, "Or dead."

"It's not like that!" Calming himself, he tried to think. "Maybe she's too far away. What do they want with her? We got to find her."

Sympathetically, Nick backed down. If Urs was dead, then reminding Vachon of it was of no help; it was only frustrating him. Alive or dead, she had to be found. Her being out there somewhere was a danger to both mortals and vampires alike. This was a bad situation to be in, his instincts told him that something was very wrong. He turned to Vachon who had gone to the window to check the amount of light that was still left in the sky.

"Another five minutes, and then it will be safe for you to leave. I will do what I can. Meanwhile you keep trying to sense her, and talk to those in the community who might know something about this. Do not tell them too much. We do not need the enforcers in here creating more havoc and panic. We have to find out what is going on, and stop it in whatever way is necessary."

--------

Mark stared down on the near perfect body of the beautiful young woman who he had just had exhumed from her final resting-place. The date marker from her grave had read that she had been dead for over a year, yet no signs of tissue disintegration were apparent. The wounds that had supposedly led to her death appeared only as slight scratch marks or blemishes. Her body was intact after all that time underground. It was remarkable!

In the past several hours, he had conducted several examinations of her. From the series of x-rays that he had done, she appeared to have all internal organs. And since she had not been embalmed, he was even able to obtain blood samples. From all his findings, there was absolutely no reason why she should be dead, yet she was, and all clinical evidence verified this. There were no vital signs that would indicate life. There was no heartbeat, no respiration, and no brain wave activity. Clinically and legally, she was dead, but her body was certainly not responding in that manner. Why in her death would she be going against the laws of nature? Leaving Urs lying on the old sofa that he had left in his locked storeroom in the event of a late work night, he walked back into his laboratory. The centrifuge machine with its recently drawn blood samples from Urs had stopped, and he went to retrieve them. As he pulled each labeled tube from its place, he held it up and stared at its consistency. Every tube appeared to be normal. Moving close to the window for better light, he held one of the tubes into the morning sunlight. The tube began to fill with a fine mist of smoke and began to feel warm in his hand. He stared at the contents in disbelief as the small amount of liquid began to boil, and the plug that had held the blood securely in the tube burst allowing steam to escape through the tubes jagged opening. The hot glass burned the flesh on his fingers, but he refused to release it. He could not let it go, it fascinated him, it frightened him. And he could not look away; he had to know why it reacted like this. His hand trembled from both the excitement of witnessing this phenomenon and from the searing pain. The only release came when the tube exploded between his fingers and what little remained of the miraculous fluid dropped to the floor. In awe, he continued his intent stare towards the floor and to the shattered shards of glass with the flaming red fluid. Mesmerized, he watched as the blood sample transformed into steam and evaporated before his eyes. The burns on his hand that he had been too distracted to attend to, roared to life. Again he ignored their severity and raced back to retrieve the other two tubes. Opening one of the samples, he began to gather and prepare slides at his table. With the slides complete, he could barely breathe as he slid the first glass plate under the microscope and began to focus. Perspiration began to sting his eyes, and he annoyingly swiped at its interference at this moment. With his first glance, he would have sworn that his heart had stopped, and he pushed himself and the chair back and shook his head. This was unreal, this couldn't be happening. He wiped more sweat away from his eyes then pulled his chair back to the microscope and peered in again. There was no mistake; these blood cells had the same structure as the ones that Natalie had illustrated in her notebook. But now they were not just sketches, they were real. What he had observed was not a picture, but was a genuine sample. This Jane Doe was of the same DNA composition as the Nick in his fiancée's private book. Tears of lost love began to blur his vision. The one she was trying to see on the night of her accident with her packed bags was Nick Knight. He was the Nick she referred to in her notebook. She must have been working with him. She had seen and had known of this abnormality, and she was working on this with him. Pulling away from his slides, he moved to a locked cabinet to retrieve a box of slides marked only with a heart. Searching through the box, he finally decided on one and moved back to place it into the scope. Studying the slide for a few minutes, he sighed and rolled back on his chair so he could hang his tired head in his hands. Natalie too had a few of these same cells that matched both her drawings and the Jane Doe. What sort of unnatural activity or should he supernatural activity was going on here? Had Natalie somehow caught Knight's affliction? But Knight showed none of the symptoms of light intolerance that Natalie exhibited. Several times, he had seen him during sunny days. Natalie had been without problems in the light too, but that was before her almost fatal trip to Knight's building. What was Knight like before Natalie's accident? Tomorrow, he would ask around the precinct, and try to find more pieces to this puzzle. If Nick Knight was also light sensitive, then Natalie had cured him. But cured him of what? He held up her slide in his throbbing hand, Whatever Natalie, his Jane Doe, and possibly Nick Knight shared did not exist. There was no scientific basis for any of this. His head began to pound in the same pulsating rhythm as his burnt fingers. What had she done on that night, and why would she take such a risk? There were still too many unanswered questions. Whatever happened did not matter. The only important thing now was finding the way to make her well again, to give her back her life in the sun. Since he had taken that first blood sample from Natalie after she was attacked outside of Knight's home, her amount of extra nucleotides had been very slowly but steadily increasing. She was not getting better. The extra nucleotides in time would take over, and she did not even feel it happening. But now that he had this exhumed body, his experiments should be able to proceed faster.

The painful stinging of his burnt hand returned with fiery might, and he moved to the sink and placed his wounds under the cold running water. Standing in pain over the stainless steel sink, his mind wandered back to Knight and his stomach tightened. Natalie had cared for Knight, maybe loved him so much that she almost died because of him. The pain in his heart surpassed the agony of the burns. Maybe in time, she could love him like that. He knew that he would lie down his life for her. He took in a long deep breath and slowly exhaled. For now, she loved him and did not even remember Knight, and he would do everything in his power to keep it that way. Turning off the faucet, he located the first aid kit. Then with the edge of a roll of gauze in his hand, he slowly began to wrap it around his red and blistering fingers. Exhausted he sat down and began to prepare more slides from his Jane Doe, but he could not keep his attention focused on his task. He could only think about tomorrow, and what he would find out about Nick Knight. With that information and the Jane Doe, he would soon solve this riddle and maybe even cure, his only love, Natalie.

--------

Mark paced the lab with enthusiastic anticipation, only three days before he and Natalie would be husband and wife. The thought of her being with him forever made him beam with pride. The only obstacle was Natalie's condition. He had spent last night checking and re-checking his results of her blood over the last year. There was no doubt about it, her one original unique nucleotide had divided several times, and they in turn were reproducing themselves. At the rate they were developing, it was possible that she could have the same number of foreign cells as his Jane Doe that still lied lifeless in his back room. Calculating the rate of cell division, he estimated that in less than four years Natalie and the Jane Doe would have a genetic strand that was identical. However, there was no time to dwell on the future now. The last few days he had spent gathering information on Nick Knight's short-recorded Toronto career. He had spoken to the information officer and had learned that there had only been records for him dating back to 1992, and that mysteriously an entire lifetime of records showed up in her files a short time later. Mark picked up the top card from a pile of blank index cards and wrote 'NO RECORDS BEFORE 1992.' When he had visited with Captain Stonetree at Knight's first precinct he had mentioned how Knight had not only asked to work solo, but to only work at night because of a skin condition. Another card was pulled from the pile and he wrote, 'NIGHT SHIFT DUE TO CONDITION.' There were so many details to sift through about Knight. Others at his old precinct laughed as they told stories of how the perks would say that knight had swooped down on them from the sky. There were many reports, from those who saw him in action, of how he seemed fearless in the heat of gunfire. Two more cards left the blank pile and on them he wrote, 'SWOOP DOWN- (FLY)' and 'INVINCIBLE-NO FEAR OF BULLETS.'

Later when he had gone to the 96th precinct there were many stories about how Knight had been falsely accused of murder, and how the M.E. had accidentally made matters worse when she switched Knight's sample with the killer's sample. Then everyone wanted to tell him the story about when he was charged how they had searched his apartment and found bottles of cow's blood in his refrigerator. Picking up yet another two cards he scrolled the words 'COW BLOOD' on one, and 'FALSIFYING DNA RESULTS FOR KNIGHT' on the other. He thought about all his conversations and recalled the reports of his incredible strength and speed. In addition, there was the joke that circulated around the precinct that he never ate not even the stereotypical donuts. Three more cards were retrieved and he wrote, 'SUPERNATURAL STRENGTH,' 'UNCANNY SPEED,' and 'NEVER SEEN EATING.' But of all the stories that had been related to him, the most intriguing was the one that Captain Reese had told him. Joe Reese had still never gotten over the shock he had the time Knight had been pronounced dead at the hospital after being shot in the head. Then miraculously, after Natalie had insisted on seeing him, he made a complete recovery. Removing one last card he wrote, RESURRECT FROM THE DEAD.

Gathering all the cards he had laid haphazardly over his worktable, he picked up a box of thumbtacks and began to place the cards in a vertical line on his bulletin board. Stepping back, he looked over the list and read the words out loud.

1. NO RECORDS BEFORE 1992,
2. NIGHTSHIFT DUE TO CONDITION,
3. SWOOP DOWN (FLY),
4. INVINCIBLE-NO FEAR OF BULLETS,
5. COW BLOOD,
6. FALSIFYING DNA RESULTS FOR KNIGHT,
7. SUPERNATURAL STRENGTH,
8. UNCANNY SPEED,
9. NEVER SEEN EATING,
10. RESURRECT FROM THE DEAD.

Mark read the list and laughed out loud. The clues looked as if he were reading about a vampire. Suddenly he recalled the two holes on the side of Natalie's neck, and the Jane Doe that lay untouched by time or elements in his back room. He thought of Natalie's unnatural fear of the light, and his skeptical smile faded. Vampires! He was dealing with vampires. Desperately he searched the board again, trying to find some other explanation. There had to be another possibility. Vampires didn't exist they were only a myth, and he was a respected scientist in the community. Overwhelmed by these new unprecedented invading thoughts, he paced his floor and rubbed at his head. Again he went back to the board and looked at the clues he had pinned up. Repeatedly he read them then re-read them. "Fear of light, bottles of blood, flying, supernatural speed and strength, resurrection from the dead! NO!" He could never accept this, it would mean an end to everything he knew to be principled, systematized, and factual. Years of study and dedication he had spent to only accept facts, not mythological creatures that drank blood and roamed the night. He had taken an oath to be professional, and this was insane. He stopped his pacing. Wasn't it more crazy to deny what he saw? A body with a genetic structure that matches no other human on Earth except for what Nick Knight once had and what Natalie was surely becoming. This is what cannot be denied! These were facts, not fantasy. Sometimes even a scientist must open his mind to possibilities outside the realm of the laws of nature. This was one of those times. A vampire lay in his lab, Knight was one too but now is not, and his wife to be was taking on their characteristics. He moved into his back room to view what he now knew had to be a vampire. With an unending supply of samples from her, he could work for a cure for his fiancée. Through science, he would save her, just as she had saved Knight. This would be his eternal gift to her, proof of his undying love. No matter what it would take, he would rid her of this demonic possession. Self consciously, he looked over his shoulder, then moved back to the board, and ripped the index cards from their places. Carrying them to the small metal wastebasket near his sink, he picked up a Bunsen burner and let its flame touch the rumpled paper cards. In only a second, the fire went from blazing hot to a smoldering pile of black ash.

--------

"Love is no more than a game, gentle listeners. A child's game of hide and seek of the heart. We close our eyes counting down to the moment when it will be time to turn around and face the world. Then blindly, with our eyes wide open, we search out our heart's desire. Leave the game to the children. Love is an illusion; it is not out there to be found. Unless you can find love in an illusion, you will never obtain what you are looking for. If you foolishly believe that you will be different and that you can capture this illusive of feelings, then you will suffer the additional agony of watching your mirage dissolve within your grasp.

Nothing weakens us more than love; it makes pathetic fools of us. It is time that we start celebrating anniversaries of time spent without love. Now this would be a milestone worth commemorating. And as each year without love passes, we would observe the date with festivities.

Do not seek out love, leave the amusing pastime for the children. Cling to what is real and lasting. Love is only a dream that rapidly fades when reality brings us to our senses.

If it were love that you sought, wouldn't you have obtained it after all these years? Let go of these ancient stirrings within you. Free yourself from this prison you run to possess, and take your place among the Gods."

Nick turned off the radio as he pulled the Caddy into the hotel's driveway, then got out to hand his keys to the valet parking attendant. Over and over he had debated to himself about coming to Nat's wedding. However, this was too important to miss. This was one more step on her way back to a normal mortal life. This was what he had traded away his mortality for. But a doubt still nagged at him. How mortal was she? He may have been overly sensitive, but he found it strange that the entire ceremony and reception was being held at the hotel instead of a church. Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss the notion that she might subconsciously be avoiding holy places with sacred objects. There was no telling how affected she was from there near fatal encounter. The light sensitivity could be all there was to it, or she could be as affected as a vampire hunter and be unaware of it.

Finding the hotel's elevator, he pressed the button to go up and pulled a small box from his pocket that contained a gold cross. He had purchased it for Nat during her recovery, but had later decided against visiting. If she would accept it as something new for her to wear at her ceremony, he could access how deeply consumed she was with the vampire virus.

After getting off on the proper floor, and inquiring about the bride's location, he walked to a small room that was off to the side. As he was about to knock on the door, a young lady of teenage years dressed in a long formal gown rushed out of the door and into him. He had to move quickly to keep her from falling, and as soon as she caught her breath, she looked up at him.

"I know you. You were at the hospital when my Dad was dying."

Smiling, he took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss. "I remember you too, Amy. You have grown up so much since then. You are a young woman already." As she blushed, he pointed towards the bride's dressing room "Is your Aunt Natalie in there?"

"Yeah, she's in there, but she's kinda nervous. She's all dressed and everything so you can go in and see her if you want to."

"Thank you Amy. I'll see you later. Will you save a dance for me?"

Blushing an even darker shade of red, she giggled. "I don't know how to do the dances at weddings. Anyway you're too old for me."

Nick's smile increased as he placed his hands over his heart. "You would not hurt my feelings by having the prettiest girl at this place turn me down?"

Almost taking his act seriously, she began to think of what to say. "No, I wouldn't want to do that. Anyway, it might not be too bad to dance with you. Aunt Natalie used to say that you were cute and kinda cool too. Ok, I'll see you later for that dance."

Watching her leave to join the others in the wedding procession, he smiled. Not only because of the wonderful way in which Amy had matured, but also because of how good he felt inside. Nat had actually told others how she had felt about him. Why had he taken her feelings for him for granted? With Amy's disappearance into the group of other regally dressed guests, he turned to knock lightly on the door.

A muffled voice drifted through the closed door. "Come in."

Turning the brass knob, he pulled open the door and saw her standing before a full-length tri-fold mirror. Now, with this vision, he was sure that he had seen an angel. With her veil on, white lace flowed from the top of her dark wavy hair to the floor. Her cheeks were blushed bright red with excitement, and she took in several breaths to calm herself. Seeing his reflection, she smiled and turned to greet him.

"I'm so glad you could make it!" She took in another nervous breath. "Do I look okay?"

Looking into her waiting eyes so full of hope, he was speechless for a moment. And when his voice came back to him, he could not hold back his thoughts. "There has never existed a more beautiful woman in all of time that could hold a candle to your radiance."

"You make it sound as if you were actually there to bear witness to all the beautiful woman in time. Thank you, I may never get my head out of the clouds again."

Trying to pull his thoughts from her dazzling splendor, he changed the subject.

"It is acceptable that I am in here? It's not bad luck or anything to see the bride before the wedding is it?"

She smiled, "Only if you're the groom."

"I just saw Amy on my way in here. She looks so grown up."

"I didn't know that that you ever met my niece. Yes, Sarah's done very well raising her all alone." Tears began to fill her eyes and threatened to overflow as she continued. "I wish Richard could have been here now to see her."

"Your brother was a good man. I know that he watches over her every day, and he's here with you now. You know he wouldn't miss his big sister's special day."

Grabbing a tissue, she sniffed as she dabbed at her eyes so as not to smear her make-up then looked back at him. "Did I tell you how happy I am that you came?"

He nodded then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, which he held out to her. "This is for you. It is something new for you to wear on your wedding day."

Moving to within a half meter of him, she gently slid the box from his hand and opened the velvet lid. "It's beautiful, but you shouldn't have gone to this expense especially after your generous gift."

"This is just for you on your special day. Let me help you put it on." Removing the golden religious symbol from the box, he opened the clasp and moved behind her. Gently, he placed the delicate chain around her neck. But as she moved her hair to assist him, his eyes immediately became drawn to the two round scars on the side of her neck. Anguish over his past threatened to flood him, but he was able to continue without faltering. After she felt the clasp lock into place, she turned back towards him with the sounds of her full-length gown sweeping around her. "What do you think?"

"I think that your brilliance outshines the gold."

Excitement enveloped her, and she enthusiastically hugged then kissed him on the cheek. Realizing that she may have been overzealous, she looked down embarrassed. Seeing her reaction, he gently placed his hand under her chin and guided her face back up. Then he tenderly smiled as their eyes met, and leaned towards her as she closed her eyes and waited for their lips to meet. With the first brush of their lips, a knock on the door startled them apart. And as if waking from a spell, Nat left him disappointed as she went to open the door. The florist nodded to Nick as he handed Nat a rose filled bouquet, and then reminded her that she had to be ready in five minutes. Seeing the florist leave, he also moved to leave, catching the door before she had a chance to re-close it. "Have a wonderful life doctor."

Nat called out after him, "Thank you...thank you for everything." He stopped, silently nodded to her, then walked into the hall where the bridesmaids and ushers were lining up for their walk down the aisle.

Slowly Nat closed the door as she watched him disappear into the room where the wedding would soon take place. Moving to the other side of the room, she took one final glance at herself in the mirror. Everything was perfect, everything was ready-except her. If she only had a bit more courage, she would be racing for the door to catch the first taxi home. But Mark would be so hurt. How could she ever disappoint him after all he had done for her? And she did love him; there was just this one part of her that still remained somewhere else. This was the part that would not allow Mark in. She knew of this place. It was the place where true love existed. How sad that she would never be there to experience it. Looking into the mirror, she watched the golden cross glimmer against her white gown with each breath that she took. It was beautiful, but it felt like a ten-ton weight choking at her neck. Reaching up, she firmly grasped the chain, ripped it off her neck, and threw it across the room. She breathed out a sigh of relief as she happily released herself from its burning pressure. Then not even realizing her own actions, she headed out the door.

--------

Picking up a folded card with his name and table number, Nick was oblivious to the crowds of people forming small groups near the open bar and at the various small tables in the sectioned off area of the ballroom. The ceremony had been short, and very tastefully done. Only the sounds from a lone piano player accompanied the bride, groom, and all the attendants down the aisle. The rest was a blur. He had only watched her as if she were the only one in the room as each spoke their vows and the Justice of the Peace pronounced them husband and wife. Flashes from photographers had lit the couple over and over as every second seemed to be captured for all of eternity. However, that was all history now, and Nat was a married woman. He glanced around the room. There must have been over four hundred guests, yet he could feel the pangs of loneliness making great efforts to overcome him. His sad reminiscence abruptly ended as a waiter approached him with a tray of champagne filled goblets. Sliding one from the tray, he then moved to locate his table on the other side of the ballroom. The room was dark except for the lit five taper candelabras that rested in the center of each rounded table.

Sitting away from the noise and commotion of the other guests, he quietly sipped at the sparkling contents of his glass. When he had been alone with Nat before the wedding, something had almost happened. She felt something for him. There was nothing imagined in what almost happened. They had come close to kissing, very close. If they had not been interrupted, then... then what? He rebuked himself. Why was he trying to interpret a small kiss of gratitude into something more than what it was? But then again, why should he dismiss their actions as meaningless? She may not remember him on one level, but not all of her feelings for him were lost. He would be a fool to believe anything else.

Finishing his drink, he placed the empty glass on the table, and watched as the guests began to enter and find their seats. The room became alive with the sounds of scores of conversations and the movements of chairs as all were seated. The band that had been softly playing background music suddenly stopped as a beam from a spotlight illuminated the stage. As the group's leader picked up the microphone, it put out an electronic high pitch squeal that rapidly diminished as the man began to speak and the room became silent. Gesturing towards the back of the room, he loudly cleared his throat.

"Ladies and Gentlemen for the first time as husband and wife, I give you Doctors Natalie and Mark Harmond!"

The band began to play and the spotlight shifted to Nat and Mark as they walked in hand in hand through the midst of applause and cheers from family and friends. Then as the couple approached the middle of the floor, the musician took the microphone again and made another announcement.

"The newlyweds are about to share their first dance as a married couple. Please let them have a few moments by themselves, then you are all invited to join them for this special time."

As the band began to play the Anniversary Waltz, Nick leaned an elbow on the table and dreamingly watched her glide across the dance floor. Her face was blushed with the color of life as she smiled at Mark with every step. Soon other couples began to enter onto the floor with some prompting by the announcer. And it was not long until the entire center of the room swayed with handsomely dressed couples, but he still could not take his eyes from her.

The sounds of the waiters busily bringing the first course along with all the people who talked or swayed to the music all faded into the background. His heart tugged with yearnings of the past. She was just beginning her life; there was so much for her to look forward to. And maybe all the symptoms he feared she might have from his bite, were just his overactive imagination. The cross he had given to her did not seem to cause a problem. It appeared as if she would be capable of leading a normal life, but how he wished that he could have been a part of it.

His stare penetrated through the crowds and only stayed fixed on her. There was as much love for her now as on that night a year ago when he had so selfishly taken too much of her blood. A voice near him broke his concentration.

"Looks like you drained it, would you like more?"

Catching him by surprise, he turned to see who would make such a strange comment. Next to him sat a beautiful woman who was tapping his champagne glass with her fingernail.

"The waiter has been waiting for some time for your answer. Do you want him to refill your empty glass?"

Rubbing the memory of almost draining Nat from his eyes, he smiled at his table partner then noticed that the dance had ended and everyone was returning to their seats. Looking up at the waiting man who stood perched over him with a bottle in his hand, he shook his head and waved him on. Then as he straightened himself in his seat, the woman who had roused him from his trace, and whose gown was so tight that it left no mysteries, introduced herself.

"Sorry I startled you, but the music was so loud, and you seemed to be lost in your thoughts." She ended her apology when she saw his eyes follow Nat as she moved with Mark to the head table. "She is a beautiful bride. I can see why you are finding it hard to keep your eyes off her."

Annoyed by her observation and outspokenness, he again turned to her. "Excuse me?"

"You did seem to be taken by her, you never even noticed the rest of us at the table."

Glancing around the table at all the unfamiliar faces, he realized that she was right. "I am sorry. It has been a rough day for me. I'm Nick Kni..."

She interrupted him. "I already know who you are. I've asked around. I was very impressed by your gift to the couple. That endowment to the University in their name was extremely generous. I'm Carrie Billingsly," she moved back in her seat to reveal an elderly man. "And this is my husband Kenneth Billingsly III. And before you ask, yes he is the founder of the Billingsly Development Corporation."

"I was not going to ask, and the gift to the couple was not given by me. I merely suggested that the foundation consider this worthy institution for one of their endowment funds."

"Yes the Nicholas de Brabant Foundation, a very philanthropic organization. However, you are being much too modest. You must wield a tremendous amount of influence there. What exactly is your position on the board?"

Bothered by her digging into his personal life, he tried to not show his irritation as he spoke to her.

"Mrs. Billingsly?"

"Please, call me Carrie."

Biting his tongue, he forced out a smile. "Carrie, I hold only a small position. What I am is a private investigator. I work to solve crimes, and I am sorry if you got the wrong impression." Trying to distract the attention from himself, he looked over to her husband. "Actually, I find your business much more interesting."

She moved up in her chair to block his view of her husband. "It's my husband's family business, which I am sure is nothing compared to the leverage the de Brabant Foundation controls. Nevertheless, life as a PI does conjure up some interesting scenarios. I would love to hear more about your dangerous line of work. So Mr. Nick Knight..." She turned towards her husband. "If Kenneth does not object, it would please me if you would have the next dance with me."

Not wanting for his response, she jumped up from the table, took hold of his hands, and pulled Nick from his seat. "Hurry, the song has already begun, and I like to dance the slow ones."

With pleading eyes Nick looked back at Kenneth Billingsly who with an understanding smile, waved that he was fine with his wife's advances. Then he was dragged against his will towards the middle of the dance floor. As soon as they began to dance, she moved up against him and he responded by moving back from her. Noticing her partner's concern as she tried to move in close to him for their slow dance, she shook her head. "Don't worry. Kenneth understands my ways. He's not the jealous type, if that's what you're worried about. How about for me? Should I be concerned about who might be looking over at me?"

"No, I came alone, but I am still uncomfortable..." As he spoke she reached behind him and pulled his body into hers. She smiled from his surprised reaction. "Don't be so nervous. A big, strong, ex-homicide detective like yourself should not be afraid of me." Nick stopped dancing and stepped back to look at her. She knew that he had been a homicide detective. Seeing his reaction, she realized that she had gone too far with her knowledge of him and she tried to recover. "In my line, it's always good business to know all about possible benefactors. Therefore, I did my homework on you. Didn't I tell you that I knew who you were?"

Still not resuming the dance with her, he suspiciously glared at her. "I think you should be dancing with your husband."

"And I think you have to relax. I'm really not all that bad once you get to know me." She moved towards him, and he reluctantly recommenced the dance steps. After a few seconds she looked into his eyes and smiled. "I bet you hear that you are a very handsome man all the time." Stopping again, he backed away and held her at arms length. "Your husband is waiting for you." As he turned to leave, she tightly grabbed onto his arm to stop him. "There is something I want to discuss with you. When I was speaking to your ex-Captain Joe Reese, I discovered how poorly you were treated by my husband's cousin the commissioner. I also heard about your difficulties in arranging a hearing date. I'm sure that with a few well chosen words from a 'friend of yours' like myself, your hearing to be reinstated could be pushed ahead."

Despising her implications, bitterness crept into his voice. "I do not need your help."

"I have always found that everyone needs help with one thing or another. With your outstanding record, an appellate judge would not allow Commissioner Vetter's ruling to stand."

His anger rolled in. "Do not interfere!"

Ignoring his words, she continued. "Yes, I would say that a word from me and that hearing date could go either way. I have heard that there are still some cases pending after ten years. I would never want that to happen to someone in your situation. Our communities need good detectives like yourself to protect us. I believe the 96th precinct is in our district. I'll be having lunch with the head of the appellate board and his wife next week, and I thought that your name might just happen to come up in our conversation. Don't be so stubborn Nick Knight. Do you have eternity to wait for this hearing?"

In a calm and steady tone, he repeated himself. "I have asked you to not interfere."

"I have noticed that, and I think that it is very noble. Nevertheless, your name will be brought up in our discussions. However, I'll tell you what, I will keep it in mind that you did not ask for any favors. And as your concerns for my husband also impress me, let me assure you that he doesn't mind waiting for me. Waiting for me gives him something to do. I really do care about him, such a dear man, but his age does tend to slow him down."

"You do not love him, then why do you stay with him?"

"No, Nick Knight, you are quite wrong. I adore him; he is so good to me. He says I remind him of his great-grandniece. So you must think the worst of me. Which is it, poor girl who is looking for love in all the wrong places or gold-digger?"

"I see a beautiful woman who only sees her own needs."

"Wow!" Taking in an anxious breath, she released it. "Well now, that was brutally honest. You surprise me Nick Knight. You know most people are afraid to say what is on their mind."

"Then I must not be most people."

"No, you most definitely are not." Stopping to reassess him, she continued "It's time to go back to the table, the music has stopped."

Sliding her arm through his, they strolled back to the table. Without looking over to him, she again commented to him. "The evening is young Nick Knight, and there is so much more to learn about one another."

Deciding to keep quiet, he helped her with her chair at the table. Then as he seated himself his eyes frantically searched the ballroom for Natalie. Wondering if she may be in an area that was at the far end of the room, he began to stand up, but Carrie reached to stop him.

"She just stepped out for some family shots with the photographer."

"I was not looking for anyone."

"Then you might try being more discrete in how you do not look. But do not worry, no one but myself has noticed and your secret is safe with me."

"There is no secret."

"That remains to be seen, people tend to bury their secrets deep. Anyway it's your secrets that make you so interesting, don't you think?"

"I think that you would find my life boring, and that you should look elsewhere."

She laughed. "Boring? I would hardly say that detective. You may be many things, but boring is not one of them."

He looked over at the sexy and very dangerous woman; it was going to be a long night.

--------

Nick tipped the valet parking attendant that handed him his keys after Nat's wedding. It felt good to be back in the sanctuary of his Caddy, and he drank in the silence that surrounded him. Before moving the car, he permitted himself the luxury of allowing his head to drift back against the headrest with his eyes closed. The evening had been, to put it nicely, a unique experience. Opening his eyes, he searched out the time on the dashboard. It was slightly after midnight, and there was a clear star filled sky as he looked up. Even though he could be out during the day, years of ingrained habits had made the security of night to be a permanent place even in his mortality. He was always awake to greet each new sunrise, but little else interested him during the lighted hours. The nights were still magical, its sweet peace invigorating. Putting the Caddy into gear, he pulled out onto the city streets. As he drove, headlights dazzled in the darkness. The darkness was soothing to his soul, and nothing was better than driving at night. His large car glided easily along the Downtown streets, and his thoughts returned to Nat. Seeing her tonight so alive and happy with Mark was a miraculous sight. She had been so close to never knowing a life because of him, but luckily, she remembered nothing of that night. Tonight he could not believe how close he had come to kissing her, to never letting her go. After being alone with her tonight, it was clear that he would never be able to let his love for her go. When love is true, and the other person is your soul mate, then it cannot end. He needed only to look back on LaCroix's love for his sister Fleur to know how long a love can burn within. Would he too hunger for Nat throughout the centuries? They had almost kissed. He could still feel the soft brush of her lips against his during that brief instant before they were disrupted. The warmth of her breath so close to his face, them slowly leaning towards one another, and this was tearing him apart. He had to stop thinking about her. She had married another never realizing what they once had. It was over, and he had to get used to that fact. Still, he would always treasure tonight's moment in time when they shared that closeness. Staring straight ahead as he drove, his serious concern over Carrie's words and observations returned. Talking to her was very unsettling, hopefully he would never hear from her again.

--------

The sun shown warm on the sparkling glass table that adorned her indoor atrium, but she was too filled with anticipation to enjoy the luxury that surrounded her. Carrie Billingsly released a breath that she was not even aware that she was holding in when she heard the doorbell's chimes ring out in her Victorian style mansion. Finally the detective she had hired had arrived, and hopefully he brought to her the documentation that she had waited weeks for. Her silk nightgown and matching long robe danced around her feet as she moved to the entrance of the courtyard to view the female servant as she answered the door. It was him. Not wanting to be caught looking too overanxious, she scurried to the table and sat to casually sip at her tea. The maid arrived only seconds after her act, and announced the presence of her cousin John. Nonchalantly, she told the maid to see him in. Now she knew for certain that this was the information that she sought. He had been instructed to say cousin John only if he had discovered the necessary information. She licked her lips, as would an animal that was just about to devour its kill. Then looked up just as a balding middle-aged man walked in and waited to speak until after the maid had closed the glass doors behind her as she left.

"Good day Mrs. Billingsly I have some news that I think will make you very happy today."

Acting indifferent to his assurances, she peered around him to see if anyone lurked near the doors. Then she motioned for him to join her at the table. Crudely, he moved to the table and slammed his worn- out briefcase onto the glass surface causing her china teacup and saucer to vibrate. Then as he dropped his fleshy potbellied body into a chair, he unlocked the rubbed off gold latches to open the case and remove several sheets of paper. Carrie gritted her teeth together as she put up with the uncouth ways of the investigator as he took his time gathering the pages between his hands and tapping them into an even pile. Then finally the incessant tapping ceased, and he turned the papers over to his client. With the pages now in her hands, she eagerly viewed their contents, scanning one after the other. Page after page of numbers and figures, and then the number she had been looking for glaring back at her on the last page. She looked up in disbelief at the smirking investigator.

"Are you absolutely certain of these figures and that it is him?"

"It wasn't easy getting this information, but every word and number is true. The Nicholas de Brabant Foundation has a value of over 500,000,000.00 as of today. And the sole benefactor is a Nicholas de Brabant who according to my sources is now going as Nicholas B. Knight and as you know Mrs. Billingsly my sources are never wrong. Funny thing, the thing that gave him away was all his contributions. Gave away too much at one time, hard to hide that. If this guy would stop all his endowments and invest right, he could be another Bill Gates."

Looking back at the papers, she again glanced down on the total worth of the foundation. She could feel her heart flutter and the blood rush to her face as so many emotions stirred restlessly inside her. Rising, she hugged the papers tightly against her chest, then moved over to the planted area, and pulled out a large manila envelope from between two ferns. As she returned, the detective eagerly grabbed his prize from her hands, and impatiently forced open the seal. A huge smile separated his lips revealing his yellowed teeth as he counted the cash that now overflowed in his hands. Satisfied with his pay, he collected all the money together and filled the pockets of his briefcase before securely closing it again.

"Always nice doing business with you Mrs. Billingsly. You'll call me if you need anything else?"

Ignoring him, she rang the bell for her maid to enter the room, and said nothing until the servant arrived.

"My cousin wishes to leave now. Please show him to the door."

As he began to get up to leave, she looked over at him. "Thank you so much for your visit John. Do come back the next time you are in town."

Nodding at her, he was soon out of sight. Carrie walked close to the beds of flowers that lined the glass walls, and watched as the detective drove down the long winding driveway that led to the main road. Nick Knight had denied having any part to the extravagant gift that he had given to Doctor Harmond's University, but he could not hide from her. So, it looked as if he did have some interesting secrets. She smiled coyly then sighed. There was so much to accomplish. First, she must get Mr. Nicholas B. Knight his unnecessary job back as a cop. For whatever reason he felt as if he needed to work even with all his wealth, talk about eccentric. But if this insignificant job meant that much to him, then this small obstacle would be easily surmountable. The much larger problem would be to rid herself of the boring, ancient, leech that had married her. She laughed to herself when she thought about that absurd pre-nuptial agreement he had her sign then plucked one of the roses from the trellis that stood nearby. Why was it that old men always insisted on pre-nuptial agreements? They were so easy to circumvent. She would never have put herself in a situation from which she could not have all his money and be free of him as well. She had thought that Kenneth Billingsly had money. He was only a pauper compared to Nicholas B. Knight. Kenneth was a dear, but he was after all nearly seventy. How much longer did he expect to live? And surely he wouldn't want all his money going to some old charity when his loving still full of life widow could be enjoying it. It was such a shame that her first husband had taken too much of his medicine. They can be so forgetful at their age. That did work out well, but it would not due to have Kenneth go the same way, even though it would be more humane. Holding the rose out before her, she plucked out its petals and allowed them to drop to the paving stones around her feet. Using her slipper, she ground the velvety petals under the weight of her foot. It would be a rapid death for him, and in all sincerity, she did hope it would not be too painful.

--------

Nick tried not to appear anxious as he sat outside the large conference room that had just heard his appeal. Captain Reese had been more than eloquent in his presentation of all his work. The facts were really more than enough to speak for themselves, but Commissioner Vetter's pressure was overpowering. Repeatedly, Commissioner Vetter turned each one his heroic acts into deeds bordering on insubordination and disrespect for the way in which the law operated. More than once he mentioned that the appeal hearing was consuming too much time on what should be an obvious conclusion for permanent dismissal. The secretary, who sat across from him now, had even mentioned how angry the commissioner had been when she had called to inform him of the moved up date. She said that she could not repeat the words he uttered when he realized that this hearing would conflict with his golfing engagement with the mayor. Nick looked up as the sound of her typing stopped. He had found the steady rhythm of the clicking of the keys had been a distraction that he was unaware of, until it had ended. His worried glance caught hers, and she sympathetically smiled.

"Can I get something for you? Some coffee?"

"No thank you. I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"If you are a distraction, then you are a pleasant distraction." She smiled again hoping to cut some of his tension. "I guess you're too nervous to think about food right now. Try not to worry. I've seen a lot of these appeals, and they usually work out. But I do have to admit that the commissioner himself does not usually show up for them."

Nick fortified himself with a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Vetter's roaring voice could now be heard through the closed door. The frosted glass that surrounded the door on the sides began to shake with each of his angry words. Both Nick and the secretary stared at it wondering how much more the glass could take before it shattered. This was not going to be one of those hearings where it 'worked out.' This would be the end of his career as a detective for the Metro police. Sadly, he shook his head as the secretary turned her astonished expression away from the door and back to him. Apologetically, she forced out a smile.

"I'm sorry Mr. Knight. I don't know what to say. I've never heard anything like this before."

Just as he was about to respond, the door to the waiting room opened and Carrie Billingsly, in all her sensuality, stepped in. Seeing Nick patiently waiting on the chair, she moved over to him, and he stood up for her. As soon as she stepped near him, she heard the thundering voice of Richard Vetter and immediately understood the severity of the situation. Calmly, she moved her exquisitely sculpted body close enough to Nick to run her hand affectionately down the side of his face. "Oh my poor baby. I think I am a tad on the late side, but do not despair. I have yet to have my say."

Turning from Nick, she moved towards the vibrating glass door, but the secretary jumped up to stop her.

"Excuse me, but you cannot go in there. This is a closed session."

Carrie smiled at the pathetic attempt to deny her access. "I can go anywhere I please, and I would strongly advise you to not get in my way."

Pushing past the secretary, she burst into the room, and all the voices came to an abrupt stop. The only sounds that could be heard were the soft words of apology from the secretary and then the commissioner's statement for the secretary to close the door as she left. With the door securely closed, the secretary turned in stunned silence for a moment then looked at Nick.

"That was Mrs. Billingsly. Do you know her?"

Uncomfortably, he confessed. "I met her about a month ago at a party, but I did not expect her to be here."

"You have very powerful enemies Mr. Knight, but you also have some powerful allies it seems."

Both sat down again and did not breathe another word. The stillness was deafening. The tension unbearable. Several minutes passed until the door re-opened, and he was summoned to enter. As he passed the secretary on his way in, she held up her crossed fingers to him and he smiled before disappearing through the door. The second he walked in, he was ushered to the seat he had earlier occupied. As he sat, he scanned all the solemn faces of all the participants. Finally, the head of the board spoke up.

"Mr. Knight, after thoroughly reviewing your records, we have come to the conclusion that you shall be reinstated to your former position of detective under the supervision of Captain Joe Reese. There is a condition however. You are to remain at your desk for a period of no less than one year. Are you in agreement with these terms?"

Relief and joy flooded him as he looked over to Reese's smiling eyes. Finally, he had been absolved. He could go back to doing what he loved to do most. If he still could fly, he would be soaring by now. While still shaking from the emotional rush, he moved to his feet. "Thank you for your time and consideration. I graciously accept the terms to my reinstatement."

Then in an effort to break Nick of his relieved mood, Vetter slammed his fist hard onto the table then stood up to face him. "Just so there should be no misconceptions Knight. I did everything in my power to keep you off this force. If you should forget to dot one 'i' or to cross one 't' then I will make sure that you curse the day that this board gave you back your position." Turning to Reese next, his round face pink with anger, he continued. "Captain Reese, since you fought so hard to have him back, I will hold you responsible for him. The next time he goes down, you're going down with him."

Then turning to his next source of irritation, he flashed his dark angry eyes at Carrie, but then turned to leave without saying anything. However, Carrie could not resist the opportunity to have the last word so she called after him. "I'll be sure to tell cousin Jules you sent your regards when he comes by tonight for dinner."

And as she knew it would, her words further inflamed him, and he stormed from the room. With a short amused laugh, she stood up, winked at Nick, and then moved to him and Reese. "Captain Reese, it's a pleasure to meet you again. It was so nice chatting with you at Natalie and Mark's wedding. Would you mind if I kidnap your detective for a celebratory lunch? I'm sure he could wait until tomorrow to start work."

Reese smiled from ear to ear as he patted Nick on the back. "Glad to have you back Nick. Go and enjoy that lunch out, and consider that an order. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Thank you Cap. Thank you for all your support."

"I think you should be thanking Mrs. Billingsly here. It was looking pretty bad before she showed up. I'm afraid that the commissioner is a lifetime enemy of your's. But, look Nick, you're back now and that's all that counts."

As Nick began to think about how much he wished that Nat was here to share in this triumph, Carrie slid her arm through his then smiled at Reese.

"I promise to bring him back safely Captain."

Reese watched as Nick left with the affluent beauty, and he still glowed with the feeling of success of having Nick back on his team. Then one at a time each of the board members shook his hand before leaving him to stand-alone in the room. Reese gathered up his files on Nick and sighed happily as he looked around the now still room. He murmured to himself, "Yep, sure is a good day so far. Carrie Billingsly remembered me from the wedding, now that's not bad at all. Guess that's why she made it a point to come help Nick out today." He smiled. "Like I always say, never hurts to have high powered friends in the right places."

--------

It might have been two in the morning and not the preferred shift for most, but Nick embraced the night. The pulse of the night pounded with every beat of his mortal heart. Even though he had been stuck behind a desk for the past eleven months, the precinct was where he found friendship, happiness, and peace. It was also where he could catch the occasional glance of Nat as she brought forensic reports to Captain Reese and to the other detectives.

He rarely spoke more than two words with her, except for that one night. Several weeks ago, Captain Reese had him running files down to the Morgue, and he had run into both Nat and Mark as they were leaving. Natalie had been bubbling with the news of Mark's promotion, which was largely due to the foundation's gift, but Mark had acted very coldly towards him. Then when Nat had left them to return to the lab to retrieve some files for the Captain, it became even more uncomfortable for him. He had felt as if Mark were dissecting him with his eyes. The only words that the two of them exchanged were when Mark had trouble getting a cough under control. He had asked Mark if he was all right, and his simple response was that, he happened to be experiencing a bad case of allergies. Neither spoke again until Nat rejoined them and pleaded with the detective for him to join them in a dinner that would honor Mark. And as he courteously refused to interfere on their special day, Mark had stood stone still boring his stare into him. It was only when Nat turned to Mark to help her insist, that he forced a smile. And only after he promised to try to attend did Nat finally relent and allowed Mark to help her on with her coat. That was when he noticed Nat's gold heart necklace, and he suspiciously inquired about the whereabouts of the cross he had brought to her on their wedding day. The gift had slipped her mind, and had it not been for Nick's reminder at that moment she would have forgotten the entire incident. Turning to Mark, she explained that Nick had brought her something new to wear at the wedding, but that she had somehow misplaced it that day. Mistrustful of Nick's choice for a gift, Mark only uttered that it was a thoughtful gesture and that they were sorry for its loss. So, Nick was taken back when his offer to replace the cross was met by both of them simultaneously screeching, "NO!" It was then that he realized that Nat must had been exhibiting more vampire symptoms.

It had been a while since he had last seen Nat, and next month he would be getting back into fieldwork. Now his mortal life would become predictable, well almost predictable. There were still the unexpected visits from Vachon and his understandable frustration over not being able to locate Urs. No one from the community knew of her whereabouts, and he could not do anything humanly possible to help her. Whoever had her body was even more secretive of vampires than their own kind. In some way, the one who had stolen her had more to lose by exposing the existence of vampires than they did. But what would they want from her? It was a mystery that he knew would one day provide an answer.

While lost in thought at his desk, an officer dropped his mail loudly before him, breaking him of his daydream. As he reached for his mail, his hand went automatically to the one black envelope that stood out from all the others. He flipped it over to the front and noticed that it had been designed to look like a tuxedo. The seal on the flap had been fashioned into resembling a black bow tie, and the envelope filled the room with the scent of a very expensive perfume. Curiously, he opened it first, and saw that it was from Carrie and Kenneth Billingsly. It was an invitation to their fifth wedding anniversary celebration, to be held at the prestigious Westin Harbour Castle. He closed the silk lined note, and placed it down on his desk. He had already turned down over a dozen formal occasions to be in their company, and he had no intention of starting up with her now. Carrie Billingsly was a pushy and manipulative woman. Of course, she was beautiful and sexy too, but she was also married. Though, it was impossible to recognize that fact, by the way in which she flirted with him when he was nearby. He would find some excuse for not going, just as he always did. Eventually, she would have to give up on him.

With the decision made, he began to complete some overdue paperwork, just as Reese stepped out of his office waving his invitation and headed for him.

"Nick, I just got a personal call from Mrs. Billingsly, she wanted to make sure we got our invitations. And she asked me to be certain that you would come too. It's at the Westin Harbour Nick, and she said she would not be taking any no for an answer. Lot of important folks are going to be there, and I know I don't have to tell you the importance of having friends in high places."

"Cap, I never asked for her help, and I really rather work than go to one of her society parties."

"With the right friends, you don't have to ask. Look Nick, It's not my business how you got back here, as long as you're here. And if you want to keep being a homicide detective, you better book off for this party. I'll book you off at the same time that I get myself. You are going Nick."

Nick sighed as his Captain turned back towards his office, but then he remembered something and looked back. "And Nick, better pack an overnight bag. All the guests are going to be the Billingsly's guests at the Hotel."

Closing his eyes tightly, Nick shook his head. The Westin Harbour did have a good reputation, and a great view of the waterfront. There could be worse ways to pass the time. It did not look like Captain Reese was about to let him get out of this one. Rubbing elbows with the rich and famous was important to him, and Carrie Billingsly always knew how to get her way.

--------

Feeling the warm Summer air wash over him as he sped down the Gardiner Expressway, helped to ease his anxieties over the impending exclusive anniversary party that he was compelled to attend. This was to be her anniversary party so perhaps she would pay some attention to her husband rather than to him. What did she want from him anyway? Was it an affair that she was interested in? If a one night fling would be all that it would take to get him out of her system, then he would have no problem than to oblige. Yes maybe the next time that she would come on to him, he would not hold back. It would be interesting to see how she would act if he actually responded to her flirting game. He was not beyond teaching her what playing with fire could lead to. It had never been his nature to be chased and hunted. And he was growing tired of being her source of amusement. From now on, the game would be played by his rules. If she made any more advances, then she had better be prepared to back them up. The time had come to end this cat and mouse competition, and for her to act like the married woman she was. Now that he was armed with a strategy for the long evening that lay ahead, he concentrated on enjoying the benefits of owning a convertible as he turned onto One Harbour Square and came to a stop in front of the towering hotel. Handing his keys to the valet driver, he strained his neck as he looked up to the lighthouse restaurant that encircled the top of the thirty-fifth floor. It glowed with red and yellow lights, as did many other of the tall buildings that lined the water.

Without the breeze from driving, he was beginning to feel hot in his tuxedo, so he hurried into the air-conditioned lobby entrance. The splendor in which the lobby had been decorated was very tastefully done. The wide opened area overflowed with style. Large traditional and richly colored leather chairs stood side by side embossed upholstered sofas. All brought together by wooden tables and expensive oriental carpets. On every glowing polished table sat an oversized crystal vase brimming over with long stemmed fresh floral arraignments. Carrie Billingsly certainly knew how to impress her guests. As he cooled off in the lobby, he saw that other formally dressed guests were arriving, and he joined them in the elevator for the ride up to the reserved suites. He had called ahead to obtain his room number. Tonight's host and hostess had reserved several of the hotel's floors. The elevator's third stop was on the twenty-sixth floor, and he and another couple exited to find their room numbers. Keys to the rooms had been special delivered to all those who were to attend, and he reached into his pocket for his electronic card. After closing the door behind him, he walked in and dropped his bag onto the king-sized bed. Then he went straight to the double layer of curtains to draw them open to see the view from his room. Being on the twenty-sixth floor gave him a magnificent perspective as he looked down onto the water and watched the reflected lights from the tall buildings dance on the rippled waves as sailboats floated by. He was certain that the view from the banquet room would be even more commanding. He turned back towards the room. She had certainly spared no expense in providing her guests with comfort. His room had come complete with a dining room set with a glass table and six surrounding chairs and a full living room. He glanced down at his watch, then without unpacking he moved into the hall to catch the elevator up to the banquet hall.

When the doors to the elevator smoothly slid open into the room, the first ones he saw were Captain Reese and his wife. They both looked nice and seemed very excited as they held crystal glasses that teamed with tiny bubbles. Relieved that it was not Carrie that met him at the entrance, Nick gratefully accepted Reese's offer to join them. A waiter walked by carrying a tray of champagne, and Reese grabbed one and pushed it into Nick's hand.

"When in Rome..." he smiled at Nick who returned the smile.

As he sipped on his newly acquired drink, Nick's eyes wandered around the spacious room and the illustrious guests. Its grandeur was everything that he would have expected from the Billingslys. A dark wood baby grand piano sat in the center of the floor and was surrounded by round tables that were draped in flowing white linen. Even the chairs that encircled the tables were covered in the same luxurious material. Thousands of small recessed lights graced the elevated ceiling, creating a regal brilliance. Tall floor to ceiling windows showed off the inspiring view from the top floor. After admiring the regal surroundings, his eyes suddenly caught hers. She stood several meters away from him but their stares locked as if no one else was in the room. Of course, Nat and Mark had been invited too. How could he have not thought that they would be here? After all, it was at their wedding that he had first become acquainted with the Billingslys. He let his eyes run up and down her body. She wore a long form fitting black dress that showed off every curve. Instead of wearing her hair pulled up as many of the other women in the room had, she had let her soft curls fall gently around her exposed white shoulders. She was like a beautiful portrait, an exquisite work of art. Finally his vision again came to rest on her dark eyes, and internally his body screamed from the pain of the longing for her. Even after two years, he had not been able to stop thinking of her. Even though they both had different lives now, and that so much had changed for them, and even though what they had before was not right, he still hurt so bad. Then just as suddenly as he had spotted her, he lost her. Reese moved to the side to let another pass by, and blocked him of his view. "Nick, Nick?"

Startled, he woke from the dream of her vision and looked at Reese who was glad to get his attention. "Nick, they have been saying that we should find our seats. Come on let's sit down, you're at our table."

Nick nodded, then immediately looked back as Reese moved off to the royally set tables. Natalie was gone. Disappointed, he followed the Reeses to the table. But his spirits were again lifted when he arrived at the table to see Mark pulling out a chair for Nat; they had all been assigned to the same table. But now with Nat in such close proximity, he prayed to be given the strength to resist all the old feelings that began to stir. Her love had been his and he had walked away. Watching Nick stand there, hesitant as to where to be seated, Reese patted the chair next to himself and he moved to occupy it. Now he sat between Reese and Mark Harmond. Sitting next to the husband of the women he loved, he began to feel guilty. He tried to remind himself, that he had not done anything to compromise their wedding vows. He did not even know if Nat still had any feelings for him. They had left each other all the way, for her to turn back now after two years would be a miracle of fate.

As waiters began to serve the first course, everyone around the table began to start small conversations. The only two that sat quietly were Nick and Mark. After several agonizing minutes, Mark turned to Nick.

"Detective Knight?"

"Please call me Nick."

"Nick, I ran into an old friend the other day that used to work with you. He told me that you used to have a very unusual allergy to sunlight. How did you overcome that condition?"

Nick felt his stomach drop, and he laid his fork down on his plate as his mind searched for an explanation. His eyes moved momentarily to watch Nat as she chatted with the woman next to her unaware of her husband's inquiries. Swallowing hard, he looked into Mark's eyes.

"My doctors think it is in remission. I really do not know why."

"Really, that is fascinating, and what was the name of your condition?"

"It is a genetic disorder that runs in my family. I don't recall the name."

"Oh, that is a shame that other family members have it as well. I didn't even know that you had much of a family, no one ever seems to mention them."

"They live out of town. I'm from a small family."

"Knight." He rolled the name around his tongue as if he were taunting him with it. "What kind of name is that? Your family must go way back. From Europe perhaps?"

Starting to find his probing questions too personal for comfort, Nick only stared at Mark without answering. He was saved from Mark's delving interest as Nat turned to her husband and handed him her glass of wine that had been automatically poured to each guest at the table. A devilish smile lit up her face as she passed it to him and smiled. "Will you take this Mark? I don't want to drink it accidentally. I have to remember to stay away from alcohol now that we're trying."

Removing the glass from his wife's hand, he then kissed her fingers and turned away from his conversation with Nick. But with Nick's relief came pain. Nat's timely distraction did help with Mark's questions, but now his heart felt as if it had been shattered to pieces. As he became engulfed by his ravished feelings, he longingly looked over to her. She was more beautiful every time he saw her, and she was a married woman. Why shouldn't she be trying to conceive a child with the man she loved? That he was no longer that man sent an ice-cold shiver throughout his body. A numbness threatened to consume him, but why did he expect anything different? When he had given LaCroix all rights to his soul that night, wasn't this what he wanted for her? This second chance for a life for her was the reason that he had consented to spend eternity damned. All that she was doing now was living the life that he had almost destroyed.

As he tried to not get lost inside the thought of her, Carrie and Kenneth Billingsly walked arm in arm to their table. They had been moving around the room to greet all their guests, and now they stood near the Reeses. Carrie spoke first when they arrived at their table.

"Look Kenneth, all of our favorite people from our favorite precinct. We are so pleased that you could all be here to share in our celebration. I do hope that you are all finding your accommodations acceptable." Carrie smiled as several thank you's spontaneously arose from her guests. Then she laid her hand over Denise Reese's shoulder causing her to look up.

"Darling, would you mind if we borrow your husband for a few moments? I had told Richard Vetter that I would like to start a special fund for the 96th precinct, and I would like them to work out some details. You do know that gatherings such as these are never all pleasure. With every party, there is always a business deal." She smiled as Joe Reese stood up and winked at Nick. Nick could almost hear his Captain's thoughts of, 'See, I told you it's all who you know.'

The piano player played a soft medley of classical pieces as the next few courses were served. Mark had to excuse himself a few times during the meal to try and stop his cough, but other than that, both Mark and Nick remained silent. After the main course, Nick decided to escape the table for a few moments and crossed the room towards the opened bar. After ordering a drink, he moved to the dark window glass that reflected the room and stared out over the dark waters that flickered with all the lights from the buildings. He could still feel the magic of the night drawing him; it would seduce him if he did not pay attention. Dreamingly, he let his thoughts search out the darkness as he sipped on the mixture of juice and vodka. Then her words found where his thoughts had been hiding.

"A magnificent view, isn't it?"

Not even turning to respond, he recognized his hostess's voice.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long."

She shifted to stand next to him. "I did have other guests, and there is my husband to attend to."

"Yes, there is your husband. I was not certain that you still remembered that you were legally a married woman."

"Of course I know I'm married, very happily married. I'm afraid you may have misinterpreted my friendly and open nature."

"Why did you call my Captain, to make sure that I came? Could it be that you knew that without his insistence that I would have rejected being here like all the other invitations?"

"Yes, guilty as charged! You are such a good detective. I did want you here. Is that a crime now?"

"Nothing I can arrest you for."

"Then I will not be needing my attorney. He is over there at table three. So I didn't have to invite him after all."

Nick turned from the glass to face her. "Mrs. Billingsly, I would appreciate it if you would not invite me to any more of your parties in the future."

"Even if I invite that sweet Captain of yours? I think he would be very disappointed. Just look at him over there speaking with the Commissioner. Do you really want to take all that away from him?"

Nick watched as Reese socialized with the Vetters, then sighed before finishing his drink.

"What do you want?"

"I think you already know the answer to that Nicholas." Angrily, he turned away from her to again face the window, but could see her smiling reflection in the black glass. "Your other guests are waiting for you Mrs. Billingsly."

"It was nice seeing you again Nicholas. I'm sure that it will not be so long before our next encounter."

As she moved away, he went to refill his drink. Waiting at the bar to finish the second one, he refilled his glass and then finished a third but began to feel a little unsteady. The champagne, wine, and now these three drinks had all mixed to calm him, but they were all too much within an hour. He moved back to the safety of his seat. The waiters were bringing in flaming desserts, but he was not interested in any more food or people. Checking his pocket for his electronic card to his room, he wished everyone a good night and caught the elevator to his floor.

An hour passed before Carrie Billingsly inquired at his table as to Nick's whereabouts. Then later as her guests mingled and danced to the slow rhythm of the piano, she pulled Natalie off to the side to speak with her.

"Natalie, I really do hate to disturb your good time, but I have an urgent message that must be given to Detective Knight. And with all my guests, I really cannot get away. Would you be so kind as to deliver this for me?" Handing her a small sealed envelope, she continued. "I believe that you are on the same floor. He is in room 2601. I know I can trust that he will receive it if you take it to him."

Nat looked back at Mark. She knew how preoccupied he was with her and Nick's past, and she hated to upset him. But to drop off a message was so innocent and Carrie was Mark's cousin. Hesitantly she looked back at Carrie, who saw her concern.

"Don't worry about Mark, Natalie. I will not let him miss you too much. I have an old family album that I wish him to look at anyway. Maybe I can finally put some names with some pictures. Go ahead, you would be bored if you stayed."

Nat relaxed and smiled. Both she and Carrie walked over to Mark. "Mark, Natalie is going to do a little favor for me, and while she is gone I have some pictures that I want you to look at." Pulling Mark across the room, he looked back at Nat who blew him a kiss as she started off for the elevator.

--------

Nick's tuxedo jacket was folded in half and lay draped over one of the dining room's Queen Anne style wooden chairs. His shiny black dress shoes were under the chair, and his black bow tie lay on the glass surface of the table. The crystal chandelier that hung over the table had been dimmed to near darkness as he lay on his back, still dressed, on the king sized mattress. As he lay there, he listened to each of his breaths and heartbeats while staring at the ceiling. Feeling warm, he reached up, unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his shirt, and sighed. His unpacked bag still sat next to him on the bed as his bent knees hung over the end. He had not yet pulled down the covers. When he had come back from the party, he had sat down on the edge of the bed and fallen back and had not moved from that position since. Usually the sound of his heart would lull him to sleep each night, but tonight his head spun not only from alcohol but also from the effects of being so near to Nat. But now that he was away from the noise and the people, he was beginning to feel better. The tranquility of the room was a solace to him as he closed his eyes. Then from across the room, he heard a soft knock on his door, but he ignored it hoping whoever it was would go away. The knock came again, but this time it was accompanied by a voice that whispered his name. Recognizing that it was Nat's voice, he sat up rapidly causing the room to spin around him. Anchoring himself on the bed with outstretched arms, he waited for his dizziness to subside before making his way to the door. Unlatching the door, he opened it wide into the darkness of his room. The light from the hall rushed in from around her figure making her glowing silhouette appear angelic. Seeing her like that left him speechless and second guessing himself as to whether or not he had fallen asleep and was still dreaming. Noticing that he was not about to respond, she started.

"Detective, Carrie Billingsly said that you must receive this message immediately." She held out the envelope to him. "I'm sorry if I woke you."

Shaking the haze from his mind, he groggily spoke up. "No, I couldn't sleep." He turned to look into the room and saw only darkness. Again, he turned back towards her. "Come in, I'll turn on some lights."

"I like the dark, remember?" She smiled as she stepped in and closed the door behind her making it almost impossible for him to see. As his eyes slowly readjusted to the dimness, he remembered why she could see so well in the dark, but even though he had caused this problem he could not help but smile back at her. After standing face to face for a few moments, Nat spoke up.

"Well, are you going to open it?"

Looking down at the envelope in her hand, he slipped it from her and tore open the side. Reaching between the torn edges, he slid out a card that had only one word on it 'ENJOY!’ The thought that Carrie had purposely sent Nat to him like she was some party souvenir, sickened him. What was she thinking? That it would make up for all her interfering and manipulations? But worst of all- she knew. She knew that he was still in love with Nat. He looked over at her as she waited for him to finish the message she brought. "Well, is it very important?"

"Yes, it is. Thank you for bringing it." She smiled at him again now that she saw that he was pleased, and in her smiling eyes, he saw a memory. A memory of the two of them. The past was close enough for him to touch. He thought of her touch, and how it could stop him from shaking. As he admired her, she became lost in her own thoughts. Thoughts that she could not remember were driving her heart to pound hard in her chest. They demanded that she feel the warm embrace of the man that stood before her. She could not break what she now felt. The pain of their separation was now destroying her. She knew what she wanted was wrong, but it could not be denied. It was as if all of gravity pulled at her to be near him.

He could see the yearning in her eyes, or maybe it was only the reflection of his own eyes in hers. The yearning that he saw compelled him as well, and he wondered if he held her if he would ever let her go. Then without thinking, she ran to him and he held her. They held each other as though the world would fall apart if they let go. His pounding heart felt like it would melt from her sweet warmth.

"Nick." Her voice trembled as she said his name, and he almost cried when he heard the name that she had not called him in two years.

"I am here Nat." His voice quivered too. Then he pushed her back, but held her at arms length. "You called me Nick!"

"It just came out. I don't know why." Closing his eyes tightly, he pulled her close again.

"It's all right. It's all right."

They clung together for several minutes, and he felt her warm wet tears against his chest. She pulled back to look at him. "I don't understand what is happening to me. I need you. I want you."

Using a hand that held her, he brought it up to softly caress her face and wipe away her tears. Smiling, he realized what was happening. They had never left each other all the way. Even LaCroix's miraculous feat of restoring her could not steal away what was fate. His smile lingered as he thought of how close he was to being tangled up with her again. Slowly, he leaned towards her, and they kissed. At first, carefully and gently each letting the other decide how intense it would be. With the first brush of her lips, he knew there existed magic and love and faith all rolled into one. Not believing that what was happening was real; he stopped to look at her. It was not a fantasy; she was not an illusion. He moved back to kiss her again, but this time with more power and more passion. Running his hands over her bare shoulders, he tenderly caressed her as she pulled him closer to deepen their kiss. Breaking from their kiss, he began to move his lips down her face. Then his lips found the top of her strapless dress, and she gasped in ecstasy. She closed her eyes as he moved back up to her lips with soft kisses. Taking the lead, she unbuttoned his dress shirt, and let it slide to the floor. They kissed again, and in his passion he pushed her hair off to the side to kiss her neck, then froze. There, after all this time, still showed the scars from his bite. Regret overtook his passion, and he backed away.

"This is not right."

While still trying to catch her breath, Nat looked bewildered. "You want to stop?"

"No." He caught his breath. "I have to stop, you have to stop. We are not thinking about the repercussions. You are a married woman."

"But a moment ago..."

"A moment ago I forgot who we both were. You have found a better life then to be here like this with me. Mark waits for you and he cares for you."

"Why do I feel this way about us? You know don't you? But you won't tell me, why?"

"I wish it could be different."

Heartbroken, she turned to leave as he moved in the other direction towards the window. For a moment she paused, hoping that he would turn back to her if only to say good-bye. Without turning again, she spoke her sad words to the door.

"I may not remember, but there once was something very special between us, and turning your back on me will not make it go away."

As she closed the door to leave, he whispered to himself. "The two things that never go away are the past and love."

Once she was sure that the door was closed behind her, she leaned her back heavily against the wall outside his room. Feeling her heart tear from the pain of leaving him, she began to sob. For several minutes her soft cries echoed in the hall. The more she tried to stop, the more the desperation ate at her soul. Knowing how she felt, she wondered how she could ever go back to Mark. But she had to; she had to be strong. She dried her tears and calmed herself. Then she moved down the hall and pressed the button for the elevator that would take her back to the party. By the time she stepped into the elevator, her tears had dried. She took in a deep breath to steel herself for her re-entrance as the sleek metal doors closed.

With the sound of the doors closing, Mark moved out from around the corner and stood before the doors that had just closed and taken his wife back to the celebration. Then he turned and stared at Nicholas Knight's door, the door his crying wife had just exited from. Rising tears stung at his eyes, and touched off another coughing spell. Getting himself under control, he wiped some perspiration from his forehead and pressed the elevator's button so that he could return to his wife in the banquet hall upstairs.

--------

The telephone's ring pierced through his dream of himself with Nat. Its relentless chime separating the two of them even during his sleeping images. He tossed in his bed, his eyes refusing to open. Maybe the ringing was part of the dream, but in his semi-sleep, he could not locate the source of the buzzing. The sound was real, and the only way to stop it was to answer it. Reaching over to the nightstand, he groggily fumbled in the dark for the receiver and placed it near his face.

"Knight."

"Nick, you better wake up. I need you to come up to the penthouse."

Pulling himself into a sitting position, he tried to focus on the nearby clock that displayed the time in red glowing symbols. It was 5:00 am. He must have fallen asleep after Nat had left, and after those few precious moments with her in his arms. He returned his attention back to the patient caller who was giving him a few seconds to wake.

"Cap, what is it?"

"You're not going to believe this one Nick, but Kenneth Billingsly just ended up on the first floor with only one step. Better get up here, his wife is beside herself. I guess I would be too if I just saw my spouse fall 35 floors."

A chill ran down his spine along with the innate feeling that Kenneth Billingsly's death was an act of evil. It would be best if he had no part in this; he was by no means objective.

"Cap, I am still on desk duty."

"Consider yourself officially back on full duty. Don't take too long Nick."

The Captain's voice abruptly became replaced with the sound of the dial tone. He was going to be a party to her plot, they all were. After placing the telephone back, he hurried to dress and within ten minutes he was on the elevator headed up towards the penthouse suite.

As the elevator's doors slid open, Nick was greeted by the stares of a roomful of uniform officers. Dark dusting powder was being placed on all the walls and furniture. Off to the side was a pile of brown forensic bags that were sealed with yellow evidence tape. Others were already there taking pictures, their white popping bulbs lighting up every darkened corner.

Captain Reese signaled for him to join him near the balcony that had a yellow strip of crime scene tape stretched across its opening. As he crossed the room, he saw Carrie Billingsly sitting on the end of the sofa crying into a tissue. Her eyes popped open as he tried to pass without her awareness, but it was as if she possessed a sixth sense, and she intercepted him. Rushing to him like a frightened child, she clung to him. Her act of the hysterical wife was effective for everyone in the room but him. He pried her clinging body from his, then summoned one of the forensic team to their side as he pointed to her.

"Are these the clothes that she was wearing when this happened?" The woman nodded her head as Nick tried to put more distance between himself and Carrie. "I want her clothes bagged and labeled." In his most professional voice, he turned to directly face Carrie. "You'll have to change now." Throwing him an angry glare, that only he saw, she sniffed as she spoke to him.

"I knew you would come to help me." She moved back towards him, but he held her at arms length.

"Mrs. Billingsly, please cooperate with forensics and change." With his words, she then recommenced with her act of tears before turning to face the waiting forensic technician. With frail movements, she walked away with the female officer to one of the suite's bedrooms. With her out of his way, he was finally able to meet up with Captain Reese who had just finished giving instructions to an officer. His Captain immediately dispatched the officer when Nick walked over, and gave him a nervous smile.

"Glad you're here Nick. Carrie Billingsly is having a hard time. Don't you think you were rather rough on her just now?"

"Was anyone else in the room when he fell?"

"No, just the two of them."

"Then she is a suspect. I won't give her any special consideration Captain."

"I'm not asking you to. Just try and show a little compassion. You'll get everything you want accomplished without upsetting her further."

"I'll try Cap." Looking over to the area where Kenneth Billingsly spent his last few moments of life, he moved to the side of Reese and ducked under the yellow tape. Reese followed him to stand on the balcony as Nick spoke out loud to himself. "He fell from here."

Reese joined Nick to shakily glance over the side and nodded his response to his detective's statement. "Thirty-five floors." He backed away from the rail. "You know Nick that we are treating this only as a possible homicide. It looks like an accident."

Still staring over the edge at the dozens of emergency vehicles that flashed their red and white lights into the darkness beneath him, he spoke to Reese.

"Yes, it does look like that." Suddenly he turned to face his Captain. "Has the rail been dusted?"

"Yeah, we got that first thing."

"Has Doctor Lambert been notified?"

"Called her right after you. She should be down with the body right now."

Out of the side of his eyes, Nick caught Carrie's emergence from the bedroom, and he stepped back into the room. She was dressed in a black silk skirt and matching black jacket, and she without hesitation rushed towards Nick and the Captain as she spoke through her tears.

"Detective, it was so horrible. It's all my fault. I should never have let him go onto the balcony with all he had to drink at the party. I tried to stop him from falling, but I couldn't hold on to him. It was terrible. If only I could have been strong enough to pull him up, but he slipped from my hands. I'll never forget the look in his eyes." Bursting into tears, she buried her face into Nick's chest. Remembering his Captain's request to be more sympathetic, he impatiently stood stiffly for a few seconds while she cried. Then without looking at Reese, he pulled her over towards one of the uniformed officers.

"Take her down to the precinct and get her statement." Looking up at him with bleary eyes, she choked out a few words. "You will help me detective." Then turning to leave, she weakly leaned against the officer and stumbled from the room. Both Reese and Nick watched as she disappeared behind the closed doors of the elevator, and listened to her fading sobs. Nick began to walk towards the elevator to also go down and investigate any evidence from the body, but Reese grabbed his arm and forced him to face him.

"Give her the benefit of the doubt Nick!"

"I thought her black outfit was fitting. Interesting that she came prepared."

"You really think that she killed her husband?"

"I know that she did. I just do not know how I am going to prove it. I am going to see if Doctor Lambert is at the scene with the body downstairs." Reese released his grip, and Nick took one final look around the room before reaching for the button to summon the elevator. Reese smiled at his detective's intensity; detective work was a part of him. He was back in his element. As Nick stepped into the elevator, he called after him. "Good to have you back Nick!" Nodding an acknowledgement, Nick smiled as the doors slid closed. But his heart quickened with excitement as the elevator made its way to the ground floor. 'It was good to be back.'

Walking out of the hotel into the murky light of dawn, he moved to the taped off area that was bathed in the police cars pulsing red lights. As he approached, he saw Nat standing over the body and taking notes. Suddenly she felt his presence and looked up. Moving towards her, he held her fast in his gaze. Now as he drew near, he could smell the victim's blood. The scent that would intoxicate him as a vampire now sickened him as a mortal. He moved carefully to stand near Nat, trying to keep from stepping in the glossy and syrupy blood. His gaze fell on the dead man's face and on the expression of terror in his sightless eyes. Last night death had come, and now it was his job to at least have the world know why he died and whose fault it was. Nat tried not to make direct eye contact as she spoke.

"Captain Reese told me that you would be leading this investigation, so I will be reporting to you. Here is what I have so far." Stooping over the body that was picking up the police lights, she motioned to several places, one after the other. "Death as I'm sure you are already suspect was instantaneous. I doubt that there is a single bone that is not in fragments now. There is some bruising and abrasions around the wrists which did occur before the time of death, and which is also consistent with her account of how she tried to save him from falling."

"Or he was dragged to his death." Nat looked up with Nick's statement.

"Should I be handling this as a homicide?"

"We're not ready to rule anything out."

She sighed, "Okay, I'll PERK his body."

"PERK?"

"That's right, you have been away from all the buzz words for a while. It's the same thing that we have always done when homicide is suspected. I'll be using the physical evidence recovery kit. Lately, I have been using it at the scene, before things get moved too much." She opened a case that lay next to her, and removed some small plastic evidence bags. He watched as she swabbed at all the orifices, then clipped nails, and plucked hairs from several areas on the body. Then she sealed, labeled, and dated each bag. After that she placed a gloved finger into the pool of blood that surrounded the body, and Nick watched feeling repulsed as she raised the blood-covered finger towards her mouth. A panicked feeling washed over him, and he rushed to stop her from tasting the blood. Catching her hand only centimeters from her face, he stared at her in horror. However, she returned an angry glare as she cringed in pain from his tight grasp on her wrist. Her voice was a mixture of shock and anger.

"What are you doing?"

"You were going to taste his blood. You didn't even know you were bringing it towards your mouth to sample it."

With her anger growing, she stared at her captive hand until he released it. Then she turned her frustration back to him. "That's because I wasn't going to taste it. I was bringing it towards my face to smell it for chemical toxicity. What is wrong with you?"

Relieved, he shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry. I just saw you reach into the blood and..."

"And you thought that I was going to put it into my mouth?"

"I'm really sorry. I overreacted. It has been a while since I have been back on active duty." He looked around them in silence for a moment. "I have to get back to the precinct. If anything turns up..."

"You'll be the first to know."

"Thanks." Keeping a respectable distance away from the body, he left Nat to return to the hotel and check out.

Nat watched him as he moved like a gliding shadow in the dawn's light. She would have to leave soon as well. The sun looked as if it would be strong today. She lingered several minutes over the body before feeling the urge of her awakening instincts. Unconsciously, she again dipped her finger into the pooled blood. Then hungrily placed it in her mouth, sucking every bit of flavor from her finger.

--------

The sun was blazing across the sky by the time Nick pulled into the precinct's parking lot. He took in a deep breath of the already warmed morning air as he stepped out of the Caddy, then thought about Carrie and increased his pace as he moved towards the building. Knowing that she had only arrived a short time before him, he hoped that he would be the first to interrogate her. By this time, she should be confined to a solitary room with only an observation window and a tape recorder to document her account of what transpired in that penthouse suite.

Turning the final corner in the hall, he paused at the entrance and looked over the precinct's room. A flush of angry blood rose to his face when he saw Carrie surrounded by the other detectives and officers as she flirted with them. Moving through the circle of law enforcement officers, he gripped Carrie by the upper arm and began to remove her from her awe-stuck audience. Ignoring their groans of disappointment, he roughly guided her into a simple room which held only a small wooden table and two plain wooden chairs. Annoyed not only with her but the entire attitude of the precinct, he angrily pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. Without protest, she did as he implied, and watched as he stared intently at the floor as he paced. Breaking into his thoughts, she spoke up.

"Did I do something wrong, detective?"

With seething anger, he turned to glare at her. "Your husband's body is still splattered over three meters of the Westin Harbour's parking lot. Couldn't you try to pretend a bit longer that you're the grieving widow?"

She smiled at him. "Would you prefer that?"

Simmering with hostility, he moved closer to her until there was little space between their faces. "What I would prefer is for you to sign a confession, and not let this drag on any further."

Without even blinking, she countered his accusation. "Excuse me detective, but just because I cannot display my state of mourning in the manner that you see fit, does not mean that I did not love my husband."

Standing up, he took a breath to calm himself, but then fired another attack. "Why did you kill him Carrie? I know you did it, I just do not know why."

"So you know detective? Then why don't you arrest me now? You do have the evidence to support your claims?"

"Forensics is working on it."

She grinned as she began to rise from her chair. "Then you have nothing on me. And that means, as they say, that I am free to go." Instead of walking towards the door, she moved straight to where he stood by the wall and leaned her body against his until he was trapped between her and the wall. Standing strong, he glared into her eyes. "What do you want from me Carrie?"

"Off the record? I want you, darling. All of you."

"What about your state of mourning?"

She laughed at his words. "What about it?"

Pushing her aside, he leaped for the door and stormed out of the room colliding directly into Reese. As Nick broke away from the Captain, Reese called out. "Nick, calm down! What did she say to you?"

Nick turned back as he walked towards the door. "Get her statement Captain. I have to check something out."

--------

His shift had ended hours ago, but finally he got the call he had been waiting for all day. The timing was perfect; it was right before his next shift was to begin. After placing dozens of calls and several Internet inquires the entire day, he finally had the information he was searching for. Carrie Billingsly was also known as Carrie Welsly, and had before that been known as Carrie Clark. She had been married before. Before the recent loss of her husband Kenneth Billingsly, she had been married to a millionaire in the Long Island area of New York. They had been married less that two years when the elderly man had died. No autopsy had been performed, but the cause of death was listed as a probable accidental drug overdose. The deadly mixture had been a combination of drugs that had been prescribed for him for several ailments.

Carrie Clark was her birth name. She had been born in West Virginia into a poor family. The only income that her family had came from her hard work as a servant to the town's wealthiest man who was also her family's landlord. Her parents had died in a fire in their house that had never complied with safety regulations because of her employer's negligence. Soon after, Carrie's boss was found dead. He had hung himself in an apparent suicide in his bathroom. A typed suicide note confessed that he had started the fire in an attempt to kill Carrie's parents so that she would be his property forever. She had run away. The police were never able to locate Carrie after that, and assumed that she had run away to escape her troubles.

The next time that there were any records was a year later, when the young woman married Seymour Welsly a prominent real estate investor, but a very sick elderly man. There had been a pre-nuptial agreement filed at the time, but that was null and void in the event of death. The contract was only valid in the event of a divorce. It was two years later that Carrie's name again surfaced. She had applied for residency in Toronto. Then the last entry on file was five years ago, when Carrie was welcomed into the high society circle with her marriage to Kenneth Billingsly.

With only a minimal amount of research, Nick had already discovered that her pre-nuptial agreement to Kenneth was also void in the event of his death, and since he died of an accident, his high insurance pay off would be doubled. If Nat had anything that she could point towards Carrie, then he had her.

--------

He had given Nat over twenty-four hours with Kenneth's body, before he went down to the Morgue to see her. She was just pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, and was on her way to the gurney, when Nick walked in. The dead husband of Carrie Billingsly was still waiting to give her a reason for his death. As Nick walked further into the room, he saw Kenneth's name scrawled with permanent marker on the toe tag. There was only cold and silence left to Kenneth's body. He moved back as Nat turned on her tape recorder, and placed it on a nearby stainless steel tray. She circled her patient, leaning close and looking close before she spoke.

"Circumstances could suggest suicide or an accident. Fully rigorous with what blood is left, settling to dependent regions due to gravity." He watched as she took a pair of forceps with one hand and moved the surgical lamp closer with the other hand. She gently removed a fragment of cloth. Holding the cloth up to the light, she again commented to the machine. "It may be silk."

As she delved into what caused his death, Nick looked around the Morgue. It never felt so cold and stale as it did now. Death filled her workplace. His eyes switched back to her. She was truly a professional, and he admired her for that. He stood fascinated as he watched her stain specimen cards with the remnants of the victim's blood. He looked on in wonder as she analyzed and searched everywhere for the truth. He glanced away from the body to speak with her.

"Did Mrs. Billingsly’s clothes arrive?" Pulling off a glove, she switched off the tiny tape recorder.

"Yes, forensics just faxed over a report. It's on my desk, but nothing unusual turned up." She slid the fragment into a clear plastic evidence bag, and held it up. "This looks like it came from her dress, but that would still be consistent with her trying to catch him and him trying to save himself after his tumble."

"Any signs of force? Did she push him?"

She stared at him incredulously. "I am lucky to have anything left to examine after a thirty five floor fall, and you want to know if he was pushed? There is not one spot on him that was not broken, shattered, bruised, or crushed. I wouldn't be able to tell you if a train hit him before he fell. I know you think that she did it, but I have to tell you that unless you can find another way to prove it, then I am going to have to call it an accident. Sorry, but you know it might have been just that - an accident."

"No, not this time. This was not an accident."

She pulled the sheet over the victim's face. "Good luck proving that detective." Pulling off her other glove, she moved around the gurney to stand before him. "I'm glad you came down here after last night. I wanted to apologize. I don't know what got into me. I'm really quite embarrassed. You were right to stop it, I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry."

With a softness in his eyes, he lovingly gazed at her. "Maybe in a different time."

--------

Nick drove up the long and winding driveway to the Billingsly estate. The summer leaves flickered in the wind allowing the sun to filter through the tall old maples that lined the way. Carrie Clark, Welsly, Billingsly had done well for herself, but she had wanted it all. After his visit to see Nat at the Morgue, it was clear that it would be Carrie's word, and hers alone, that would get her off. And with all of her influence, that would be more than enough. There was not one piece of evidence that was incriminating. And although her past marriages did look bad, no criminal activity could be proved. She had committed the perfect crime most likely for the second time, maybe more. In less than a decade, she had gone from being a poor servant to one of the richest and most influential women in Toronto. It seemed to him, that she had it all, but she still wanted something from him. It couldn't be his wealth like the others, no one knew about that. He had even contacted Felix who said that there was nothing to report. Whatever it was that she wanted, he was about to find out. Even though Kenneth Billingsly's death had been ruled accidental, and the case was closed, Carrie had still summoned him to discuss matters. Maybe, she would slip up and provide him with a clue that could reopen the case. But she did not need to say anything now, she was free and clear of all charges. Did it bother her that he believed her to be a treacherous killer?

The Caddy came to an abrupt stop in front of the entrance, and he left his car and looked around. He had never been to their house, despite numerous invitations from Carrie, and looking at it now, he had to admit that it was impressive. The lawn was manicured for acres and filled with paved gardens of countless species of plants and flowers. The structure that stood before him was imposing, but architecturally true to the Victorian Age that it tried to reproduce. It was massive and lavish, and it reminded him of the ornamentation that was characteristic of the empress Victoria when he was in Great Britain in the late 1800's. Memories flooded him of the years that he, LaCroix, and Janette lived in several such homes as they roamed the country. Yes, this was a magnificent copy, but he had lived in the originals. He had known Queen Victoria well, and she was known to be prudish and clearly obsessive in her observances of the conventionalities. So unlike the woman in whose house he was about to step.

With the doorbell rung, he patiently waited for his encounter with, who in the past few days, he had come to refer to as the black widow. The thought of discussing whatever it was that she wanted, sickened him deeply inside. The sun baked down on him, it was hot, but inside he felt cold. He began to shiver just as a neatly uniformed servant came to the door and escorted him in. The young girl was pleasant as she led him through the grand entrance room that was opened to the skylights that covered the three-story building. Looking up, he wondered why she hadn't pushed him from the gallery from the top of the stairs. The fall from there would certainly have been fatal. He shook his head as he followed the maid. Carrie most likely did not want to dirty her house, which he was sure that she cared for more than her late husband. Or perhaps she received some extra thrill by inviting so many important police officials to her crime. His pulse quickened as the maid led him to a sitting room, and then left him alone while closing the doors behind her.

Nick moved to an ornately carved fireplace that looked sterile and cold from non-use. Again, a cold shudder ran through him. He could feel it, something evil permeated the walls of this house, something predatory. A sound caught his attention and like a flash, he turned to its source. Carrie Billingsly stood by the doorway with a glass of white wine in each hand. Using his most severe and professional voice, he spoke first.

"The Coroner's report came back on your husband. His death was ruled an accident."

She moved across the room unaffected by his news, and placed the wine she held for him on the mantle shelf where he stood.

Seductively, she smiled at him. "I hope my innocence didn't spoil your sterling reputation as an ace detective."

He swallowed hard. "How long did you plan it?"

Her smile widened as she moved to one of the two sofas that faced each other in front of the fireplace. Not taking her eyes from him, she gestured then waited for him to be seated across from her. "I like your style detective, very stimulating. But as your own department stated, it was an accident."

"It was no more an accident than the death of Seymour Welsly. Wealthy old men, is it their money that compels you?"

"I see that you have been doing your homework, and if you have done it well, then you should have seen that I am as much a victim to tragedy as they were. I have lost my parents, my employer, and two husbands at a relatively young age."

"This is far from over. The insurance company for Kenneth will investigate further before paying off such a high claim."

"They could investigate all they want. With your department's findings, I would have no trouble. However, to show my sincerity, I had my attorney notify them this morning that I will not be pursuing any claims. It was against his advice, but they seemed quite content about the grieving widow's wishes to not benefit from such a tragedy. So you see Nicholas, there will be no further inquires."

Anger and frustration crept through his veins; she would really get away with her acts of murder. She was cunning. She knew full well that there would be no evidence to convict her beyond a reasonable doubt. And by inviting so many to the crime scene, she could not have paid for better witnesses to her husband's drinking which led to his fall. A sinking feeling suddenly seized him; he had still not spoken with her about why she had invited him here today. The time to find out what lay in store was now.

"Is there a reason, other than to gloat, that you needed to see me?"

"I never gloat, that would be undignified."

"And murder for money is not beneath you?"

"This obsession with my supposed guilt is beginning to bore me, and there are so many more interesting things to discuss."

"I do not see anything else for us to discuss."

"But there is Nicholas, so much more. You for instance." He glared at her in silence as she continued. "I think of us as kindred spirits, and since I met you, I have not been able to think of much else."

"Especially your husband."

"He is dead, and I do not see how dwelling on his memory now would make the world a better place." Moving off her sofa, she went to slide in next to him. "I am a young woman who has never had a relationship with a man my own age. I've been lonely for so long, until I found you. Since the first time I saw you Nicholas, I have been in love with you."

Standing up, his voice rose, but she also stood to face him.

"Your husband's body has not even been buried yet, and you proposition me? Of all the vile creatures that have walked this Earth, I have never seen anything as repulsive and grotesque as you."

Reflexively, she struck out at him with her open hand, striking him hard across the face. "That wasn't personal, you had that coming."

His face stung, but he did not even blink. Acting business like, he calmly studied her. She was correct about them being similar. He had also been a cold-blooded killer for enjoyment, money, and for nourishment. It was unavoidable that she had seen similar characteristics in him that she herself possessed. She had just told him that she loved him, but that was impossible. He had done nothing to encourage such a relationship and hopefully had not motivated her to murder. The side of his face throbbed, as he coldly stared at her.

"Someone from the department will be here soon to officially explain the M.E.'s findings."

"Didn't you hear what I just said Nicholas? I want a new life. I want to be free of the past and I want you to be there with me."

He looked at her bewildered. Was she that misguided that she had convinced herself to fall in love with him? As he tried to figure out her motivation, he spoke to her as straightforwardly as he could. "I do not love you Carrie. I do not even like you. I would suggest that you stop this fantasy of the two of us."

"It's much too late for that Nicholas. You see, you are going to marry me."

"Carrie you are disturbed, you need help. I would never marry you."

"You will come to love me in time, and I for once would like a happy ending. Don't resist happiness Nicholas."

"Happiness? You cannot even find it yourself. What makes you think that you could supply it to me?"

"We will be good together. You only think you don't love me. You only have to give yourself a chance."

Pushing her away from him, he laughed. "This is insanity. There is nothing between us now, and there will never be. Nothing would make me marry you!"

Moving towards the door to let himself out, Carrie called out.

"Not even Doctor Natalie Lambert's well being?"

With the mention of her name, he froze by the sitting room's door. Taking in a breath to steady himself, he turned back to his hostess who joined him by the door. "What does she have to do with this?"

"Why there is so much, I hardly know where to begin. Let me see..." Pulling out a list that was folded in her pocket, she open it and began to read its contents aloud.

"In the course of her illustrious career, there have been several undocumented reports of bodies that were either rushed through the Morgue to avoid autopsy or records that were changed so as not to allow for the true cause of death. Most, according to lab personnel, were due to exsanguinations yet they were never handled by anyone but herself. Strange isn't it? She falsified records during the asteroid scare that we had, recording murders as suicides. And all these bodies were drained of blood. Very strange after a witness saw her, recently tasting my poor dead husband's blood as she examined him. Actually, I do not see what you see in her, quite the ghoul." Moving closer to him, she continued. "Then there was the time when your DNA and the murder's DNA were 'accidentally' switched. But we can all understand how accidents can happen. If that is not enough to convince you, then I happen to know someone who could cause a significant problem in her lab. She always works alone at night. I believe that she would have a lot of explaining to do if some custom made designer drugs were to appear. But then she does love you, doesn't she? Does she kill for you too? In fact everyone who gets close to you dies. There were both of your partners; I believe their names were Donald Schanke and Tracy Vetter. And then there was a psychic and a museum curator, and the list goes on and on. She sounds dangerous to me."

The tone of his voice darkened. "Then you should stay away from me."

"What would be the fun in that? And do you know what I found fascinating, was that you were the one who saved her the night she almost died. She was coming to you. What was going on between you two? Do I need to pursue that too?"

A heavy helplessness radiated from him, as he understood to what lengths Carrie would go to have her way. This was blackmail pure and simple, and there would be no doubt that Carrie would destroy Nat's career and maybe have her face criminal changes if he did not cooperate. Nat would not even remember all the cover-ups of vampire kills that she had concealed. The community would be outraged at such a public display, that there would be many more deaths possibly even Nat's. If he did as she asked, then it would only involve a short time. He had less than three years left as a mortal. By that time, he would have to move on anyway. There were no other options for now, he had to agree with her demands. There would be three years, and then he would disappear, taking Carrie's memories with him. He looked up into her confident eyes. "I will not deny that Dr. Lambert and I were friends, but that is all there was. I would not want to see her harmed, and is this really how you want to start a relationship? What kind of marriage would this be?"

Unfazed by any possible complications, she ignored his questions. "After the funeral, Nicholas, I will be going away for several weeks to settle my nerves. I will have all arrangements complete for the ceremony by the time I get back." Moving to him until their bodies touched, she gently ran her hand over his cheek that was still flushed from her slap. "We'll make a beautiful couple. You'll see Nicholas, I will make you happy."

Internally, he shuddered at her touch, and he could not remember why humanity was a superior state to vampirism. This is what he had asked LaCroix to grant him. If he had to do it over again, he would have chosen death for both himself and Nat. What kind of lives had he bargained for? Nat was locked out of her past, and now he was locked out of his future. Pulling away from her, he walked out of the room and towards the front door, letting himself out.

Carrie moved to the multi-paned window, and watched as Nick drove off in his Caddy. He certainly was nice looking, it would be harder to kill him, but then how else could she get control his fortune? Once he signed the marriage certificate, she did not care who he loved. This would be her last marriage; it was getting time to retire. There were many places in the Caribbean to retreat to, and use her endless wealth. The interest alone from the de Brabant Foundation would forever keep her bathed in luxury. Stepping back from the window, she stared at the still full glass of wine he had left on the mantle. Poison was always such a clean death, but there was no time to plan his demise now. For now, she had to pack for her trip.

--------

Mark dropped another bag of radiated samples into the bright red biohazard plastic container just as another coughing spell forced him to sit down. Natalie had been pleading with him to see a doctor, but he was too close to finding an answer. Anyway, Natalie was now showing more than triple the numbers of special nucleotides than she had only eighteen months ago at the Billingsly's tragic anniversary party. Her condition was progressing fast. Luckily, he had been able to keep the not quite dead body, which he had exhumed, from being discovered.

Grabbing a pair of fresh gloves, he picked up a scalpel and walked over to Urs. Glancing down at her body, he still marveled at her state as he leaned over her to take a small amount of tissue from her skin. In the past couple of years, he must have taken over one thousand samples only to come back an hour later to find her completely healed. He walked back into his lab to prepare the sample for another round of radiation. How he wished that he did not have to do this, but unless Natalie was cured soon, she would surely evolve into a vampire. He knew that her infertility was a result of that unexplainable nucleotide in her DNA. They both wanted children so badly, his experiments had to work. Turning back to Urs's room to turn out the light, he froze in his tracks. The patch of skin that he had just removed was now fully healed. That was the fastest healing that she had ever done. This had to be a sign that she would soon be waking up. Fear tore a path through him. What would he do if she woke up?

--------

Nat rushed into the 96th precinct, and handed the desk sergeant the files that contained her latest autopsy results, then turned, and left as rapidly as she rushed in. Moving as fast as she could, she unlocked her car and turned the ignition. There was no sound, the battery sounded as if it were dead. Frustrated and in a hurry, she tried again. This time it grinded away, but did not catch. Things like this only happened when she was in a hurry. If she missed this appointment with the specialist, she would not be able to get another one for months and she had already waited too long. She forced her foot down on the gas pedal again and twisted the key into the ignition. After a moment of sickly grinding noises, it stopped altogether. She could not give up now, she tried again, but the car would not respond. Almost in tears from frustration, she pressed her forehead into the top of the steering wheel, then startled as she heard a tapping on her window. Nick had just pulled into the parking lot, and had heard her flooding her engine. Smiling softly, he waited for her to roll down her window.

"I think you flooded it. You're going to have to let it sit for a while before you try again."

"I don't have any time to wait. I have an appointment across town."

"Come on then, I'll drive you there."

With a grateful smile, she gathered her purse and opened the car door. "I would really appreciate it, thank you."

Cold rain pelted them as they moved into the Caddy. The grey clouds that were so often seen in the winter, drifted like shadows over the nearly full moon. He started the car, and looked over to her.

"The heat will start up soon. I hope you are warm enough. So where am I driving you to?"

"I have an appointment with Dr. Anita Applegate. It's a good twenty-minute drive. You'll have to make a right out of here, and then another right..."

"I know where her office is. She is a very famous infertility specialist. It must have taken you a while to get this appointment."

"Yes, I really don't want to miss it, and do you think that you could keep..."

"I will not breathe a word to anyone." She sighed in relief as they headed for the expressway. "I'm so glad you came along when you did. You're a real life saver."

"If you ever need anything Doctor, you know that you can always count on me."

She smiled. "You know, this might sound crazy, but I did know that somehow. We haven't had a chance to talk in a while. How long has it been that you have been married now?"

"About a year and a half."

"Funny, I would never have thought that the two of you would ever talk to each other much less marry. I guess with love, you never know what will happen." Seeing his jaw clench, she changed the subject. "So I guess that you have moved out of your old loft apartment and into the Billingsly mansion."

"I moved out for her comfort, but I still own my old place. I hope to stop by later and make sure that everything is secure."

Before she could think, she blurted out, "Will you let me go with you?"

Turning to look at her, he almost hit the car in front of him as it slowed for a construction site. Seeing his reaction, she quickly added. "I mean if you're not busy... and if you're okay with that. Actually, I was thinking that if I saw where my accident happened, that I might remember more. I know that probably won't work and that it must sound silly, but I just have this feeling it would help. Do you know what I mean? If you don't want to take me, I'll understand."

For the first time since he had married Carrie, his eyes lit up brightly and he smiled widely. "Yes, I do understand and it would be nice to have some company when I walk into that lonely, empty apartment. But don't you think you should speak with Mark first?"

"He's never home anymore. He works round the clock and I think he is sick. I understand how you feel when you talk about walking into a empty place."

"I am sorry."

"Please don't be sorry. I'm happy most of the time, I really am. And if I could ever have a child, I think that Mark would stay home more. He is trying to help me get rid of my sun allergy."

Trying to not lose control of the car again, he turned quickly to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, it's not important, he has just gotten himself obsessed with me. It's sweet really."

They rode on in silence until he exited, and he looked over to see the streetlights flashing light across her face and creating a mystical glow as the car sped towards its destination. Feeling his stare, she looked over and smiled.

"Thank you for doing this, it is so nice of you to go to all this trouble."

"I hope this doctor can help you."

She sighed. "Me too. Mark seems to think that if he clears up my light sensitivity that I might be more fertile. He thinks that it is part of a syndrome that is all related." An embarrassed laugh escaped her. "I should not be discussing all this with you, this must be absolutely boring."

"It is all right to tell me. I think that you know that as well, or you would not have said anything."

"It is strange, but it's true. I really do feel that I can share my deepest secrets with you."

Pulling the car into the parking lot, Nick changed the subject of the conversation. "We're here. Just let me call in and book off. I want to wait for you so I can take you back home."

"You mean your loft." She reminded him.

"Yes, I am looking forward to that."

Smiling, she began to re-button her coat before braving the cold breeze that was blowing rain against the car's windows. With a little luck, maybe she would have a baby by next year this time.

--------

Nick ran to the other side of the car to help Nat out, then walked with her towards the door. As he approached the security panel on his door, Nat began to call out the numbers. Stunned by her memory, she looked at him.

"Is that right?"

With an excited laugh, he quickly answered. "Yes, what else do you remember?"

"I didn't know that I remembered that until just now. Why did I have your security code?"

"I had given it to you. You used to come by with reports that I needed."

She turned around on the wet pavement and gravel near the door and looked around. "Okay, so could you point to where you found me that night?"

Randomly picking a place near his parked car, he indicated an area to her and she sighed sadly. "Nothing. I'm not remembering anything from there."

Reaching for her hand, he pulled her back to face the door. "Let's go up. Maybe you will remember something there."

The door creaked as Nick pushed it open into the quiet long since unlived in loft, and they walked into total darkness. Still holding Nat's hand from the unlit way up, he stopped and began to fumble along the wall for the light switch. "Wait here doctor, I'll get some light."

"You really don't have to. I can see just fine. It's funny how my vision has been improving lately."

His stomach dropped as he realized what was causing her eyesight to improve. No mortal could see in this light. It was black; pitch black and he could not see a thing. This was not a good sign, in fact, it was proof that she was turning into what he had feared over three and a half years ago would happen to her.

Now, with some lights on, Nat strolled around the room touching dusty objects, listening to her own footsteps, and looking into every part of the room. Closing her eyes, she tried as hard as she could to remember. Everything felt so right, but no vivid memories, like his security code, surfaced. Maybe she was trying too hard, nothing would come back to her. She turned to look at Nick from across the room.

"I know that I have been here before, and it feels good, but I can't remember why."

Nick watched her as she walked towards the television and began to look through his video collection. Enthusiastically, she turned back to him.

"Could we watch one? I really do not want to go home to an empty house now."

He tenderly smiled at the thought of once again sharing a night of movies with her. "I would like that."

"I hope I'm not bothering you too much, but you wouldn't happen to have some popcorn around? Watching videos is not the same without popcorn."

His smile widened. "No, it would not be the same, would it? I do have some popcorn around here somewhere, but it might be stale. You would be surprised to see the food that is around here now."

She turned back to the videos to pick out a favorite as she answered him. "Stale sounds great to me."

"You're not that hard to please." Nick rushed into the kitchen to search as Nat made herself comfortable on the sofa. It was not long before the scent of freshly popped popcorn filled the loft, and he brought a large bowl of the hot fluffy kernels and sat it between the two of them. Nat picked up the VCR remote and pressed the power button. "Do you mind, I already chose a tape?"

As his spirits soared, he felt like a young boy in love as he only looked at her and smiled. Smiling back at him, she held up the case. "King Kong, I hope you don't mind."

His eyes gleamed with old memories. "It is what I would have picked."

She smiled as she sat back to watch as the starting credits rolled by, but he could not take his eyes off of her. By the time the movie was over, she was dabbing at tears with a tissue, and he pulled the bowl out from between them and placed it on the floor. Sliding closer to her, he wiped away a tear and she collapsed into his arms with sobs that were breaking his heart.

"Doctor, it was only a movie, he really didn't exist."

She looked up through her tears. "No, it's not the movie. It's being here with you. It's my life, my memory loss; it's my loneliness. I go on from day to day and I never feel the pain, but when I'm near you, I know that my life doesn't have to be empty. And that's what I miss everyday. You make me feel complete, and that doesn't happen with anyone else."

Looking into her eyes, he felt her pain, but he had to remind her of the life she had. "Doctor, you have a wonderful life. Mark works endlessly to help you, he loves you."

"But I don't love him, I never really loved him. He never talks to me or sits with me to watch a movie. He is never there for me, like tonight. I'm nothing more than a lab rat to him. I can't bear to go back home."

"You can stay here, but I think you may be making a mistake."

"If I stayed here, Mark wouldn't even know. He is working on helping me. I don't want him to help me, but he won't stop."

"He cannot stop Nat. Just like you could not stop."

"Nat..., no one ever calls me Nat."

"I used to call you that."

Her tears stopped, and she looked intrigued. "Then we were more than friends?"

"In many ways we were only friends."

"But there's something else. Please tell me."

"I cannot. I cannot give you your memories. You have to find them yourself."

Her frustration returned. "But I can't! I've tried and I can't!"

Reaching over to calm her, he brushed her hair back with his hand. "It is happening Nat, be patient."

She reached up to cover her hand with his, and they looked deeply at one another. Then slowly, he leaned towards her and kissed her lightly. Her deep sad eyes penetrated him as they parted, then she whispered to him.

"This time Nick, I cannot let you stop, and if you ever felt anything for me - you will not."

He listened to her plea, and to the music her voice made when she spoke his name. His feelings for her had not relented during all this time. He ached all over as if he were bruised from missing her. In silence he moved towards her, and then kissed her deeply. Breaking away from her for a moment to see if she had changed her mind, he saw her look back and he knew that it was right. He kissed her again. Passion quickened his breath, as he needed to be with all of her.

The pleasure was almost unbearable for her as she felt his lips and tongue on hers. She clung to him as they touched and stroked one another. Then without releasing his gaze, she followed him as he took her by the hand towards the stairs, turning off the lights on their way up.

--------

Mark eased his way back into the car as thunder roared through the cloud darkened pre-dawn sky. After discovering Natalie's car parked outside the precinct, and finding out that Nick had booked off for the night, he thought that she might be with him. His eyes scaled the bricks of the tall dark building, and grief caught up with him and seized his soul. Tears rolled down his face as he pictured what his wife and Nick Knight were now doing in his darkened loft apartment. They had been in love before, and now they were lovers. And even as he futilely tried to believe that she would walk out the door in the next moment, he knew that he could not fight fate. The same power that had determined his wife and Nick Knight's actions had also decided his destiny.

Tears choked him, and he grabbed for several tissues from his pocket as his suffocating cough re- emerged. He gasped for breath as if he were drowning then regained control and pulled the tissues from over his mouth. Bright red blood soaked the tissues; the blood had even permeated through, wetting his hands. Wearily, he stuffed the used tissues back into his jacket pocket, then retrieved some clean ones to dry off his hands. Time was becoming scarce, he knew that. It was doubtful that he would see the next season. But even though the chemicals and radiation that he used, to find Natalie's cure, were destroying him, he was close. He was so very close to finding her cure. When she will be released from her doomed fate as a result of his work and sacrifices, then she will love him too. He looked longingly at the building's door, but it stood cold and still. Sadness ran down his body. Natalie may be with Knight tonight, but after she is cured, she will forever love all that he gave up for her. Knight may have her now, but he will be the one to live on forever in her memory. Putting the car into gear, he backed out of the driveway and onto the street.

Carrie pressed her lips together and smiled as she watched the red glow from Mark's taillights disappear into the night. This was perfect, everything was perfect. Even though she knew that Mark Harmond would never be man enough to kill Nicholas for his infidelities with his wife, he would still be a wonderful character witness if it came to that. What jury would convict her if she walked in on such a shocking act of betrayal? And if she shot him with his own service weapon, it would never be considered premeditation. An act of passion, why some jurors may even want to give her a medal. Their marriage had been a complete mockery, but they were the only two who knew that. Thankfully, he had finally succumbed and had his little affair. Maybe he would be less moody around her before she got rid of him. He rarely slept with her, which she did regret, but at least the occasional encounter was satisfying. He had told her that he wanted an offspring, and she knew that the only reason he ever got near her was so that she would conceive his child. It was also the reason that he told her that he remained with her, and she had to keep his interest until she could safely provide for an alibi when his accident happened. So, if he wished to believe that she would sire an offspring for him, then so be it. The pills that she had swallowed every day of her married life would prevent any surprises from coming up, and what he did not know would not hurt her, or was that him? She smiled again. It was getting late, and this little affair that he was having would only be used as a backup. Accidents were far less messy to explain and much less complicated too. Sitting quietly in her car, she wondered what type of vehicle it would take to run a large old Cadillac off the road.

--------

The day was half over by the time Mark woke up and reached over to Natalie's side of the bed. Her side was still neatly made and cold. He wistfully patted the soft covers and remembered why she had not made it home last night. Sitting up, he took in several deep breaths in an effort to calm himself and shove down his overwhelming emotions. His morning coughing spell began, and he ran into the bathroom to catch all the blood that was certain to come. He closed the door and twisted on the hot water tap in the bathtub. The steam always soothed his dry irritated throat after a bout from his illness. His oncologist had told him that if he would undergo treatment for his cancer, then his life might be prolonged. However, it would drain him of the little strength that he had left, and would rob him of the precious time that remained before Natalie would become a vampire and his vampire subject would arise. He was so very close now, if only he could hang on for a few more months then he could cure her. Just a few more trials, just a few more experiments using the vampire woman's valuable specimens. Dropping the blood-splattered tissues into the now swirling waters of the toilet, he watched them as they were pulled down and vanished. All of his blood loss was making him weaker each day. He knew that the only reason he stayed alive was because of his drive to cure Natalie before she became one of the undead. He would gladly trade away a few chemotherapy filled months to save her from such a fate.

Standing in the midst of the steam, he looked into the fog-covered mirror. Then with his finger, he made a streak in the glass to create a clear line. Slowly he traced the equation that he knew should be working to cure Natalie, into the mist. He wrote in the chemical abbreviations above and below the line, he had made. It should be the answer, but it was not working. This was the only obstacle that stood in his way for her cure. Taking a step back, he stared at the DNA sketch and he shook his head and sighed heavily. He had used this equation to create a serum that worked thousands of times in the Jane Doe's blood samples, but it would never react how it should in the vampire woman's body. All his experiments had only caused him to poison himself with chemicals and radiation in such high amounts, that the fact that he was still alive was a miracle. Over and over he created the exact combination of chemicals, and had made a vaccine, that worked in all but his experimental animals. Each trial on living specimens would fail, within seconds of injection. So many of the animals that he had injected with the vampire virus easily overcame his serum that worked so well in the test tubes.

He rubbed at his eyes as he looked hard at the glass mirror, and then the answer suddenly became clear. This was the breakthrough that he had missed. His heart rate picked up another fifteen beats per minute in his excitement. The mirror was the answer that he had overlooked. He had been doing everything backwards. He needed to use the inverted image when preparing his serum. The inverted amounts of chemicals were needed, and that is how he had to construct it - in its mirrored image. Why had he not thought of this before? The vampire virus is the mirrored image of the normal virus structure. He had been treating it as if it were like mortal DNA. It did look similar, but it was not. Incredible, the mirrored image! He had to get back to the lab right away. If this theory was correct, and he could try the new serum on his test animals, then Natalie could be cured within a week. Using the sleeve from his robe, he wiped the mirror clean before leaving to get dressed.

--------

The telephone in Nick's loft rang loudly and startled them both awake. Nick pulled his arm out from under Nat and reached for the receiver, and with his speech still sleepy with sleep, he answered it.

"Knight."

"Nick, It's Captain Reese. Sorry to bother you on your night off, but I think that you might want to take this call. I tried to reach you at home, but Carrie said to call you here. I don't know what's going on between you two, but if you feel that you need to talk to someone Nick, I'm here for you."

"No Cap, there's no problem. Why did you call?"

"We received an anonymous call about a possible homicide victim over at the University, and the caller mentioned Dr. Harmond’s lab. I already spoke to the Doctor and he said that he will meet you there. I figured that since your wife is related to him, that you might want to check this out yourself. When I called your house, Carrie insisted that you be sent."

Nick looked over at Nat who had fallen back to sleep, and he smiled before getting back to the Captain.

"She was right Cap, I should go. I will check it out and speak with Dr. Harmond when I get there."

"Keep me informed, and Nick... this sleeping apart thing?"

"I will talk to you about it later Cap." He quietly hung up the telephone.

Careful so as not to wake her, he slid out of bed and got dressed. Before leaving the room, he could not resist the temptation to take one last look at her before heading down the stairs. Within a few moments, he left the loft and was pulling the Caddy out of the garage.

It was four in the morning, but the expressway was still active with traffic, which was mostly trucks at this hour. As he pulled into traffic from the on ramp, he let his thoughts drift to the recent months he had spent with Natalie. Loving her as a mortal man was more than he had ever dreamed possible. Hours after they would part each time, he could still feel the warmth of her touch and the sweet fragrance of her hair. His thoughts drifted like the early morning fog that had wandered in from the lake, and he smiled.

Moving steadily with the traffic, he was suddenly startled as a large truck pushed him into the next lane as it side swiped him. Reacting quickly, he regained control of the steering wheel and straightened the Caddy back into his original lane. The truck continued to move ahead as if nothing had happened, and Nick reached for his flashing light and pushed it on top of his dashboard. Its rotating red and white lights and its siren reached out through the darkness, and the truck began to slow down to allow Nick to catch up with him. As soon as he pulled along side, the driver swerved into him again this time forcing Nick off the road and onto an off ramp. With Nick now away from the main highway, the truck pulled behind him and began to ram him hard from the back. Each jolt caused the Caddy's windows to rattle, and for him to temporally loose control of the steering. He had to get away, so he cranked the steering wheel to the side and hit the brakes, sending the car into a skid that stopped when he struck the guardrail. As the Caddy slid against the rail, his head jerked to the side and slammed into the glass on the side door. Blood dripped down into his eyes and lights from the street spun around him as he tried to not lose consciousness. He unsuccessfully reached for his smashed police radio to call for help, and watched helplessly as the truck driver stepped out of his cab with a crowbar. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion as he watched the driver who was masked and dressed all in black slam the crowbar into his windshield sending glass fragments everywhere. The driver swung hard again, and this time completely broke through the glass. Nick tried to pick up his arm to protect his bleeding head, but everything turned black as he lost consciousness.

--------

Nick flinched from Carrie's touch to his forehead, and groggily spoke with a raspy voice as he began to awaken. "What happened?"

"Well, it looks like you tried to exit from the off ramp too fast and wrecked the car."

Trying to recall the incident, he began to sit up in the hospital bed, but the pain in his head forced him to lie back down. He reached up to touch the throbbing side of his head, and then he remembered.

"No!" The sounds of his own voice sent a flash of pain from his temple to his jaw, and he tried to soften his tone before speaking again. "No, someone tried to run me off the road, he was tying to kill me."

Carrie flashed a patronizing grin towards him, as she spoke in mock amazement. "Wow! You really did hit your head hard!" She laughed at her own words before turning serious. "It was just an accident, Nicholas."

Accepting to himself that she would never care to believe him, he thought about his Captain. "Has Captain Reese been notified? Does he know that I am here?"

Becoming annoyed with his questions, she wearily answered. "He was here, right after they brought you in. He was real sorry that he sent you out. It seems that the call for Mark's office was a hoax. I told him that the doctor said that you would be fine, and that I would take care of you so that he didn't need to stay."

Sighing, Nick moved his pounding head to rest against the side of the pillow, he still felt as helpless as he did in the car after the accident. Why didn't she believe him? Frustrated, he attempted to have her listen again. "Carrie, someone tried to kill me last night."

Pulling the covers up over him, she smiled. "I think that you should get some more rest."

"No, I do not need more rest, and stop playing with the covers! I am not a child that needs to be tucked in for the night! I want to speak with Captain Reese. A truck driver just ran me off the road then went after me with a crowbar!"

"If someone tried to kill you, then how did they miss? Where are the marks from them hitting you? The only injury that you have is the one from your head hitting the window."

Her logic was correct, and that made his head hurt even more. Throwing the covers off, he brought both hands to his sore head and rubbed at his eyes. It was only his head that showed any evidence of damage, and that could be explained without any other vehicle or person. But he had not imagined it, for some unknown reason he was spared. Maybe someone had come along and spoiled the truck driver's plan to kill him. Somewhere there had to be a witness to what happened. But for now, or until he could prove otherwise, Carrie and the others would believe that he was just speeding too fast as he approached the off ramp. One thing he knew for certain, someone stopped that driver from killing him, but there was nothing he could do until he was discharged. He waited for Carrie to walk across the room before grabbing the call button to summon help so he could find out his condition and get out of there. Despite what she told Captain Reese, being around Carrie was not the way back to health.

--------

The sun had gone down barely an hour, before Vachon was pounding on Nick's skylight. The vibrations from the rattling of the glass still hurt his head, even though the car accident had been more than a week ago. Nick hardly had time to touch the multicolored bump on his head before Vachon appeared inside the loft shouting incoherently at him. Cringing in agony, he looked puzzled at his unexpected vampire guest. "What is it Vachon? I have to be at work soon."

Vachon paced the floor as his anger caused him to rave uncontrollably. "I'm going to have to kill him Knight. I don't want to kill him, but I have to. If you were in my place, you would kill him too. And even if I don't kill him, then the enforcers will. Did he really think that he could get away with this? I should kill him just for what he put me through. I know you don't believe in killing them, but he went too far Knight. That's it. I'm going now to take care of this."

Seeing the easy going Vachon so upset began to worry him, and he stepped in front of him to stop his departure. "Vachon, what are you talking about? Who do you want to kill?"

Stopping to stare at Nick in disbelief, he realized that he did not know. "Your doctor friend's husband. He had Urs locked up in his lab for close to three years. She was starved when she found her way back to me. He's been using her Knight like a guinea pig in his experiments. He knows about us and has to be destroyed."

Nick moved to sit down on the sofa. He had thought that nothing could distract him from the pain in his head, but he was wrong. Vachon was right about Mark and if he had been experimenting with Urs, then he had enough empirical evidence to never allow any hypnosis to work. When the community discovered what Mark had done with one of their kind, he and all of his work would be destroyed. Nat could be in danger too. All that Vachon told him made him realize that Mark knew what he was, and explained why he reacted to him the way he did. And it also meant that he knew that Nat was also turning into a vampire because he had used Urs in his experiments in an attempt to cure her. That was why Nat never saw him. He was consumed with the same puzzle that Nat had become entwined in with him. He leaned his head against the back of the sofa and stared at the ceiling, what on Earth was he supposed to do now? Vachon came up from behind the sofa and looked down at him.

"Knight, you better handle this or one of us will. I have to get back to Urs, but I'll be back tomorrow night for your answer. After tomorrow night, it's out of your hands."

Nick, sat forward to respond to Vachon, but he was gone before he could turn around. Moving to his feet, he listened to each of his footsteps echoing within the large room of the loft as he walked slowly to the window. The blinds that he had not opened or closed in years were fully extended and allowed for a full view of a soon to be spring sky bursting with stars. With almost four years of his mortal gift consumed, he could see its end rapidly speeding towards him. These last few months with Nat had been the happiest moments that he could remember throughout the centuries, and no matter what happened now, he would always be grateful for that small amount of time. Repeatedly in his mind, he asked himself why Mark would perform such a dangerous act as to exhume and experiment with a vampire, but he knew the answer. Mark did it out of his love for Nat, just as he had sold his eternal soul for her. But now Mark had come to an impasse and there was no way out. There could be no escape. The only acceptable resolution to this situation to his community would be Mark's death. Nick sadly closed his eyes and shook his head. Surely, Mark must know by now that Urs had escaped and that there would be repercussions. The time had come to go to Mark and discover what it was that he had planned to do when the inevitable happened.

--------

The new drug trials using the mirrored image equations had taken longer than expected, but he had managed to survive the necessary time to complete every one of them, and now it was time to test it on his Jane Doe. If it worked on a genuine vampire, then it would surely work with Natalie. The results had proven to be one hundred percent effective on every lab animal that he could purchase or steal. His heart fluttered with anticipation for now he was to test its effectiveness on a real vampire. If her cells remained clear of the virus, then he would inject the small amount that he had left into Natalie. The lab animals had experienced absolutely no side effects and all were doing well, this was the cure. He tried to catch his breath as he coughed the entire length of the hall to his lab. Each breath now was a struggle, and he was more tired than he could ever remember in his life. Aches and pains ravaged his body as he swallowed another few pills that the oncologist had prescribed for him to help ease him through the final stages of his cancer. He stretched out his arm to place his key into the door's handle, but he dropped it to the floor. As he bent down to retrieve it, he noticed a sliver of light from around the door's frame. The door was not locked, and he cautiously pushed on it as he stood. It swung open freely, and what little strength he had left drained from him at the sight of his lab. The room had been pillaged. Test tubes lay smashed and shattered on the counters and floor. Not a piece of furniture remained untouched; all was crushed and overthrown. Years of experiments lay in ruins. Chemicals of every color oozed from the walls and ceiling. All his expensive equipment had been trampled during the plunder. Recognizing the odor that he was breathing in, he ran to the window to clear out the toxic fumes that were arising from the random mixing of ingredients. Then he moved coughing and gagging to the storeroom to check on Urs. Her room was wide open. The door had been torn from its hinges, and was half embedded into the store room wall. The room lay in shambles around his feet, and she was gone. Turning, he ran to the cages that held his experiments, each had been violently dismantled. On the floor below lay the dead animals, their eyes wide open with terror, and drained of their lives. The Jane Doe had awakened, and destroyed everything in her path.

He ran to the refrigerator where he stored the last of his serum for Natalie's cure. It remained intact, he had neither the strength nor the time to test or make more. His vampire subject was gone, but the serum had worked in all the other experiments. There was no reason to believe that it would not work on Natalie. He searched through the rubble for the telephone to call Natalie, and found it still connected. She picked up on the very first ring, and he pleaded with her to join him in his lab. Worried about his urgent tone, she agreed to come right away. The Morgue was not very far from the University, and he knew that she could be there in less than fifteen minutes.

Grabbing all his notes and Natalie's notebook, he placed them in the sink and set them on fire. The experiments should never be repeated, they had taken away his life, and he would not leave the recipe for self- destruction to anyone, especially his wife. After seeing that the experimental materials were destroyed, he gathered the animals and bagged them for incineration. With all the other evidence already destroyed by his recently liberated subject, he turned over a chair and retrieved a piece of paper and a pen. There was so much to say to Natalie, and with the little time he had left, he knew that he had to get this letter right the first time.

--------

A look of horror was all that Nat's expression reflected when she entered the lab and rushed to Mark who had slid to the floor, and was sitting in the midst of all the pandemonium. Falling to the floor along side him, she held him tightly. Her heart feeling as if it would pound out of her throat as she fearfully cried to him.

"What happened Mark? Are you all right?"

He tried a reassuring hug, but he hardly had the strength to sit up. He only remained upright because she held him up. Unable to take in a deep breath, he pushed out a few words with shallow wisps of air. "There is no time Natalie to explain." His wicked cough caught him off guard, and he spit up blood onto her, but he continued to speak. "Natalie, help me one last time. I need you to take the injection that is in my hand. This will make you well again. You will be able to go back into the light. Please Natalie, let me see you take this before I die."

She held him to her closer and pleaded with him. "No Mark, you're not going to die! I won't let that happen! We'll get a doctor."

"Natalie, I have been sick for a long time. My cough has been more than allergies. I have cancer, and I don't have much time. Please do this before there is nothing left of me. Please Natalie, take the injection now. I love you Natalie. This is all I have ever wanted, to see you happy and healthy."

As his breathing turned into harsh gasps, Nat grabbed the syringe and injected it into herself as tears streamed down her face. With tremendous effort, Mark reached over to her and ran his fingers down her face then handed her an envelope. "This is for you to read after I'm gone."

"No Mark, please!"

"Natalie." He smiled. "Could you walk over to the window? It's daybreak, and I want to see your face in the sun."

Crying hard, she moved to the window. The sun lit up her features, and there was no reaction. Mark's face lit up. "It worked. It worked. Don't cry Natalie...we did it." Suddenly Mark's body began to shudder, and he fell weightless to the floor. Rushing back to him, Nat screamed out.

"MARK!"

Clutching the letter from him in her hand, she dropped to her knees along side him. Her haunting sobs filled the ransacked lab as she leaned over his lifeless body. Wiping the endless tears from her eyes, she ripped open the envelope and tried to read through tear blurred eyes.

Dropping the letter by her side, she screamed out her anguished cries.

"Mark! Mark! Why did you do this? I'm so sorry Mark!"

Nick arrived to see Nat on her knees by Mark's body, and he slowly moved towards where she mourned, and picked up the tear soaked letter to read. Tears flowed non-stop as she sat next to Mark's body and stroked his back. "I did love you Mark. I really did love you, but my love poisoned you." Her sobs became too heavy to continue to speak, and she began to just cry into her hands.

After reading the note, Nick watched and waited as Nat cried on the floor next to her dead husband. He knew that she hurt, and that she needed to cry. Mark had known about what he was and about what Nat was becoming. He had even known about their love for one another. Mark gave up his life so that Nat could be happy. If ever there existed a true hero, it was him. Leaning over Nat, he helped her to her feet. Her body shook as she grabbed onto him and cried with all the deepness of her soul. After several minutes, she looked out of red puffy eyes to him.

"He knew about us."

"I know."

"He died because of me." Her choked sobs continued.

"No Nat, that is not true. He knew what he was doing. He made his own choices."

"I didn't want him to die. I didn't want him to risk his life. Why did he do this?"

"He needed to do this. He needed to prove to himself his love for you. He never told you because he knew that you would have stopped him."

"He loved me, and I couldn't love him back. I should have..."

"Should have what? Forced yourself to love him? Pretended to love him? Do you think that is what he wanted? Love isn't like that. You know that, and Mark knew that too."

"Then why does it hurt so much?"

"Because Mark was a good man, because you are a good woman, and most of all because life is not fair."

"How will I live with this pain?"

"I have seen you suffer losses before Nat, you will survive. Mark did not expect for this to be an ending. He died so that you could begin to love and live. This is his gift to you. Do not throw it away. Do not throw his life away. Come." Putting his arm over her shoulders, he walked with her out of the lab, and for the first time in almost four years, she walked into the morning sunshine.

--------

The singing of the birds and the rustling of the new green leaves in the spring breeze were the only sounds that reverberated throughout the consecrated grounds. As Nat solemnly stood looking over Mark's grave, a cool light wind pushed at her dark raincoat beneath the cloud filled skies. The graveside services had been well attended, and everyone from Mark's family had been so caring and attentive to her; but shame and guilt would not allow for condolences. All of their sympathy was a waste on her, if they only knew that she was responsible for his death. She would never forgive herself, she only hoped that he now found the peace that he deserved.

She looked around her; Mark had been buried next to his father. She had heard that he was a brilliant professor, but she had never met him. From old family albums, she had seen that Mark had looked a lot like him. It seemed that he was as intelligent as he was as well. She took in a deep breath, and rapidly let it out almost as a sigh. Everyone had left a long time ago. They had tried to get her to leave with them, but she convinced them that she needed a little time alone to say good-bye. To say good-bye, what a strange phrase in this circumstance. Good-bye was something she said to her co-workers when she left for home each morning. It was something that she said when she ended a telephone conversation. It somehow always meant that she would be seeing that person later or talking to them possibly again. It was a pleasantry when she said it; she never meant it to mean forever. She was not here now to say good-bye to Mark, because that would mean that they might soon be reunited, and that would never be. Death was final, no good-byes, no turning back, and no more chances. This was farewell, a departure from which there existed no possibility for amends.

A bird screeched out as it flew overhead, and she shifted her attention to it. As she watched, she saw it soon became joined by more of its kind as they soared freely through the air as they returned from their winter sanctuaries further south. Life was beginning its natural cycle again. Every plant and animal was filled with the promise of new life, but she felt so empty.

The sound of footsteps on the gravel path approaching her caused her to look around. She smiled out of habit to him, but she still preferred to be alone at this moment. He extended his hand out to her.

"Nat, it's time to go home."

"I can't go home, there are too many reminders."

"Staying here is not a reminder?"

"I don't want to leave him again, at least I can be here for him now."

He put his arm down and walked closer to her. "Why are you punishing yourself like this?"

"Don't you understand Nick? I was not there for him when he was sick and dying. I was with you!"

"And so because you were not with him when he was alive, you will stay with him now that he is dead? Will dwelling with the dead take away your guilt?"

"No." Tears rolled down her cheeks as she shook her head. "Nothing will absolve what I've done."

"Nat, Mark knew about us. He only loved you and wished the best for you. He forgave how the two of you drifted apart, now you have to forgive too."

Giving Mark's final resting place one last look, she turned and took a few steps towards the gates and their cars, then stopped. "I still do not understand why he gave up his life to see me in the sun. Why was it so important?" Turning to look intently at him, she studied his eyes. "What did Mark mean when he wrote that you could explain my illness to me?"

"It's not important anymore, he cured you."

"I want to know why it was worth dying for."

"You have to forget about it, it is too dangerous. Hasn't Mark's death proved that?"

"What makes you think that only you can handle the knowledge of this disease?"

"Because I also had what Mark cured in you, and soon I will have it again."

Frightened by his statement, she didn't breath for a moment. Then slowly she walked towards him and cupped her hands gently around his face. Sadly, she whispered. "So on this day that I bury my husband, I find out that I will soon lose you too."

He leaned his head forward and pressed his forehead against hers. Then moving back, he gently kissed her forehead and smiled at her. "Do you want to stay at the loft until you feel better?"

"No. It's time for me to go home. It's time for me to face my past."

--------

Nick had been by the Morgue to see how Nat was doing last night. Two weeks had passed and she had not contacted him. He knew that she needed time to sort out her feelings, but he was worried that she might be pushing herself too fast by going immediately back to work after the funeral. However, when he had seen her, her spirits seemed high, and she had even promised to drop by tonight to talk.

He moved around the loft trying to straighten things some before she arrived. He had missed her terribly, if only he could take away her pain. He also had not seen Carrie since Mark's funeral. After witnessing Mark's devotion to Nat, the thought of returning to that horrible woman that he had been forced to marry, was impossible. He had not told Carrie yet, but he had no plans on ever stepping foot into that mansion of hers again. As far as he was concerned, this sham of a marriage was over. They had been separated mentally and emotionally since the day they had met, and now he would seal that division by making their separation a physical one as well.

Being back in the loft full time was good for him, it was at the precinct or here that his life made any sense at all. He lingered by the opened window in hopes of catching a much-needed glance of Nat. He missed her company, without her he felt that the world was an empty place.

With the first glimpse of her car pulling to a stop in front of his building, he rushed to the intercom to buzz her in. The weather had been so warm, and she was only wearing a light sweater over her dress that was barely visible to him from the dimly lit street. His heart raced with the anticipation of her nearness, but he knew that he would wait for her to be ready.

The elevator slowly shook to a stop on his floor, and he was waiting to greet her. Holding both hands out to her, she smiled as she tightly took hold of them. They stood there by the elevator just enjoying each other's presence, both nervous about approaching the other. Realizing the awkwardness of their situation, Nick broke the uneasiness by suggesting that they sit down. Holding onto one hand, he gently brought her to the living room where they sat together. He longed to hold her, but held back waiting for any sign from her that enough time had passed for her to be comfortable with him again. In her eyes he saw that she was also holding back, but she was restraining words not feelings. There was still so much for her that needed to be answered, and with Mark's letter to her, he could not see avoiding the inevitable questions.

"Nat, how have you been doing?"

"You were right, I'm surviving."

"I've missed you. Is there anything that I can do to help you?"

"I want to know Nick. I want to understand what I had and what you are going to return to."

Standing up, he walked to look out the window for a moment before turning back to her. "Can you understand that some things are better off left unsaid? That you could be hurt more from knowledge then by ignorance?"

Rising from her seat, she moved to where he stood by the window. "This virus that I had, is going to take you away from me as Mark thought it would take me from him. How can I stand back and watch you become consumed and not do something?"

Reaching over to her, he ran his hand down the side of her face. The breeze from the opened window felt warm and soft in her hair. "Nat, don't you see the damage that this virus has already caused? The search for its cure must end. There has been enough tragedy, let it be over."

She looked down to the ground. "Then without a cure, we will be over too."

Pulling her into his arms, he held her tightly. "No, no matter what we do or try to change, we will be together. Our relationship has been guided by more than just our desires. You will always be a part of me, and I a part of you."

Pulling back to view him, she looked pleadingly at him. "Will you tell me when the time comes that this will come between us?"

"Yes, I will tell you when it is time. But for now, we must remember that every moment that we are given is a gift. There is no past and no future, there is only now. Nat, will you be with me now?"

Taking his hand in hers, she squeezed it as she lovingly gazed at him. "Yes, I'll be with you for as long as life allows us."

"Then you are no longer frightened by the future?"

"Not as long as you're here with me."

Leaning towards her, his mouth found hers, and they kissed hungrily. There were no more questions; there was only their love.

--------

Nights together developed into days in the park or rides to the country. Slow walks in the sun became more cherished than the most exotic of destinations. Ice cream cones from a stand were more exciting than the finest restaurant in town. As their passions changed in their intensity, they discovered how deeply their love and respect for each other penetrated. As one week followed another the months turned into seasons, and soon the signs of autumn ending were around them. Natalie never again asked him to explain what had so changed her life, and why they lived as each day was their last, but Nick still felt time bearing down on him. He tried to not let his urgency to live show, but she could feel the underlying pressure in every moment that they shared. He was never sure that not telling her was right, and he was always fearful that one day she might remember and resent him for withholding this secret from her. But he could not think of such things now. Life as a mortal was too short to not experience all of it with every ounce of his being. Surprisingly, Carrie had not given him any trouble regarding his chosen living arrangements. She had only asked that he not embarrass her by displaying his love affair publicly or discussing it with anyone else. He had agreed to her terms, but he knew that it was only a matter of a short time before he would divorce her. Soon everything would be changing, there was only three months left.

The first snow flurried through the darkened skies. It was too warm to stick to the ground or the houses, but it lit up the overcast night. They didn't care what the weather was like outside, they only cuddled closer together on the sofa as the video played on.

Carrie sat in her car outside the building that contained her husband's loft apartment. Her hand rested on a gun on the seat beside her. The night air sent a chill through her as she looked up at the lighted panes of glass where she knew that her husband and the widow Natalie Harmond now had regular rendezvous. She smiled as she wondered if Nicholas was finding his last days in this world enjoyable. Was he with her now? Did he caress his mistress as he never touched his own wife? She stopped her thoughts and laughed. Why she almost sounded jealous and there was no reason for that. Soon the two of them would be dead, and she would be wealthier than she had ever imagined. Unfortunately, she would have to get her hands a little dirtier than normal, but it would be worth it. That horrid truck driver had never completed his assignment, and could not even give her a decent excuse as to why. The only information she could get from him was that he was about to crush her husband's skull when he had suddenly found himself in the lake. The idiot had no idea of how he had gotten there. She put the truck driver out of her mind. She had taken care of her first two husbands herself; she would handle this one as well.

Picking up Nick's service revolver, she beamed with anticipation. A murder - suicide, what a tragic ending to two such promising people's lives. How sad that the grieving widow could not deal with her loss, and condemned both herself and her lover. What a tragic drama she played out by taking both of their loves. Why the climatic melodrama of it all, was almost romantic.

Although it was satisfying to revel in the pleasure of her artistic creativity, it was time to get this over with. Time as they say was money, and she wanted his. Checking the tight fit of the gloves on her hands, she stepped out of the car and moved to his security-coded door. He had given her his number over a year ago, so there would be no signs of a forced entry. Wanting to surprise them, she took the quiet way up and used the back stairs. Little by little she moved until she was close enough to the door to burst through, startling them both into standing positions.

Seeing that it was Carrie, Nick took a few steps towards her but stopped when he saw his gun that she held by her side. Nat watched where Nick's eyes rested, and her stare also became fixed on the gun. Delighted with their reaction, she lifted the gun and aimed it at them. Then she ordered her husband to turn off the television and for both of them to move to the center of the room. As Carrie slid along the wall that faced the street, Nick closed his eyes briefly as pangs of anguish swept over him. How could he have been so careless as to allow Carrie access to his gun? She must have taken it when he was there to pick up some of his clothes earlier today. He had not even looked for it because this was his night off, but Carrie knew that too. With her back against a window, she called over to them.

"So Nicholas, is this what you have been doing on all your nights off?"

He looked into her eyes, and he saw that she was only taunting them. She had come there to kill, and he had to somehow get that gun out of her hand without hurting Nat or himself. Bullets were not about to pass through him now without possible fatal consequences. Slowly he moved towards her and away from Nat while he held his half-raised hands in the air. Trying to distract her, he attempted to reason with her.

"Carrie, I never told you that I loved you. You forced me into this marriage. You will not get away with this. Give me the gun now!"

She startled for a second by his harsh command then squeezed her hand tighter around the gun. "Stop where you are, Nicholas! It's not your love that I want."

Becoming immobile where he stood as her finger tensed around the trigger, he directed his words to her once more. "I do not have any money like your first husbands. I am only a police detective."

Her quick sharp laugh pierced the tense silence of the loft as she looked briefly over to Nat. "I know who you are Nicholas de Brabant. You can stop playing your game with me."

Nick closed his eyes tightly before glaring at Carrie when he heard Nat's confused words behind him.

"Nick, what is she talking about?"

He could not turn to face her, and continued his fierce unblinking stare at his wife. Carrie's smile widened. "Now isn't that cute? She almost has me believing that you never told her about your wealth detective. You did tell your lover, didn't you darling?"

Feeling helplessly trapped; he now understood why Carrie was so agreeable with his love affair and why she wanted no one to know. He had kept his and Nat's romance a secret so now Carrie could act as surprised about their deaths as everyone else. He had helped her to create the perfect alibi. Realizing that she planned for them both to die tonight, he began to walk towards her to be in a better position to overtake her. "Carrie, if you shoot me you will never get the money. They will catch you. You will never be able to spend one cent."

Waving the gun between him and Nat, she yelled out. "Stay back Nicholas! I will shoot you, and I will get away with it. When the police find the gun in your mistress's hand, everything will fall into place for them. Sad really how some people can just not accept death." She looked over to Nat. "It must have been hard to live with yourself after your devoted husband died while you slept with another." Her gaze quickly shot back to Nick. "Murder, and then suicide, though is such a violent way to deal with grief. I guess that she was not in her right mind."

"You will not get away with it Carrie. They will know what you did."

"I'll get away with it, I always do. It is you and your girlfriend here who will not get away. Now get back over with her, and get down on your knees!"

With her outstretched arm pointing steadily at Nat's head, he turned to see Nat's frightened eyes as he complied with his wife's words. There was nothing he could do to save them. Although he really believed that Carrie would be caught this time, that would not help either Nat or himself. What did it matter if she was in jail, if they were dead? After everything that they had been through together, how could it all end like this? He turned to look at Nat as she followed his lead to kneel on the floor. Her body quivered as her eyes searched his face for some decisive action that they should take. With a defeated realization that there was nothing they could do, she closed her eyes as Carrie broke the quiet again.

"I'm going to do you a favor Nicholas. You will not have to witness her death. I'm going to shoot you first." Pressing the gun's barrel hard against his head, she squeezed on the trigger. "Good bye Nicholas darling."

Closing his eyes, he waited for his last moment, but instead it was Carrie's gasp that surprised him and he looked up. High above them, LaCroix's shape soared. He had pulled Carrie up with him, and held her dangling above them. Quickly, his master glanced down at the two mortals and grinned before turning his merciless fangs to the yielding flesh on her neck. With her neck slashed by his hungry fangs, he dropped her limp body to the floor. As the elder vampire glided to stand on the floor next to Carrie's crumpled remains, his eyes narrowed on Nat. Then he turned his attention to his son.

"I told you that I would be watching, Nicholas."

Nick stumbled to his feet, and stood face to face with the father he had not seen in close to five years. "LaCroix."

"You 'do' still recall, I thought that perhaps mortality had made you forget everything about your past." His gaze fell to the floor. "She discovered your ill-gained windfall, Nicholas."

"I had no idea that she was capable of such greed."

"How depressingly short-sighted of you. After all, is that not how you acquired the treasure? Must I forever remind you that blood money brings only misfortune?"

"You saved us. Thank you, LaCroix."

His master nodded. "Let us not make a habit of this, shall we?" He walked slowly around his son, studying him and throwing an occasional glance towards Nat who was trying to stand even though her heart pounded with fear. Finally, he stopped his circling and faced Nick as he shook his head. "Look at you, Nicholas. Time has weighed heavily on you, but soon your burden will be over."

With his words, Nat moved to Nick's side. "What did he mean by that Nick?"

LaCroix only grinned at her question, but his eyes never left his son's. "I believe that you have some explaining to do? Did you really think you could keep what you are from her forever? As much as I despise to admit it, I did find this mortal time of yours interesting."

There was no reply as LaCroix moved to the window to leave in silence. Nick's gaze followed him to where he was nothing more than a shadow sliding past the moon. He turned back to see Carrie's body slouched into a lifeless heap, and knew that he would have to take care of hiding the fang marks that killed her. His eyes drifted up from the floor to see Nat with tears running down her face. He had to talk with her, to comfort her. Cautiously, he moved towards her, but she held up her hand.

"Stop! Please, just stop. I know what you are. I remember what happened." She stared at the area before the fireplace, and sadly shook her head. "You bit me. You took too much of my blood right here."

"Nat..."

Her voice cracked and trembled as she continued. "I heard you talk to him that night. You told him that you could not make me into what you are. He agreed with you to let me die. How could you do that?"

"I had no choice. You would have become a vampire. The very thing that Mark died to prevent."

"But Mark was not going to let me die to prevent it...you were."

She wiped at her tears as he took another step closer to her. "Nat, you are beginning to remember. Think back. You were right when you thought that there was more to our relationship. We shared a love so deep that even when you lost all memory of me, our love could not be denied. If you remembered our love, then you must also remember why I could not condemn you to the vampire's existence."

The anger in her flared up again as she began to recall more. "My nightmare. I kept having the same dream over and over when Mark was taking care of me. But it wasn't a dream was it? It was real, and you were the beast that bit me."

Nick squeezed his eyes tightly closed, and twisted his head to the side, reacting as if she had slapped him hard. If only she had struck him, he would have preferred a physical outburst to the wound her words inflicted on him. Knowing that she had to understand why he had done what he did, he reached out to her and placed his hands around her arms. Twisting her to face him, he looked deeply into her eyes.

"Yes, I bit you. But do you remember why I bit you? Do you remember that we were both searching for a cure? A cure that would have finally allowed us to be together?"

Struggling for him to release her, she suddenly stopped and her eyes opened wide as she calmed down and looked up at him. "I asked you to do it, you didn't want to do it."

"You trusted me Nat, I never should have allowed it to proceed. It's my fault."

Releasing his grip of her, he began to walk away but she reached over to stop him. "I remember Nick. I remember your concerns, your faith, and your love." He turned from her, but she pulled him back. "Nick, I remember the love."

She smiled at him, and he returned her smile. Rushing to hold him close, she held him for a second before recalling the master vampire's words. Pulling away, she looked into his eyes. "You're mortal now, but you will be going back. He said that soon you will be going back?"

"Nat, I made a promise to him that I must keep. In three months, I must return to what I was."

"NO! I won't let you. We worked too hard. I can't let you do this. This isn't fair."

He smiled down at her. "I know, it isn't fair. Life is never fair, but we did have this time together and even more if you still want me."

"I don't understand. You don't have to go back to him. We will run away. I can't let this end. Please Nick don't go back to him, stay here with me."

"Nat, when I made this promise almost five years ago, I always knew that I would return to what I was. I would be a coward to run. To spend every moment wondering if you or I would be discovered. To live in fear. I would never respect myself. Is that the type of life that you want for me, for us?"

"I want us to be together. I don't care how we do it."

"I care, and eventually you would care too."

She heavily leaned her head against him. "I don't know if I can survive this Nick."

He smiled. "You will survive Nat. I have told you that you would survive before, and you told me that I was right. We will both survive this."

As she leaned against him, she listened to his beating heart and felt the warmth of his chest through his shirt. Then as if a door had reopened, thousands of memories and feelings rushed in to replenish her memory-starved brain. Every reason that she had come to love him, from before his bite to the years that followed, was there in clear view. It was then that she knew that there had to be a way for them to be together. There was always a way. Whenever there was love and as long as there was life, then there had to be a way. And if he would go back to being a vampire, then she would go back to finding his cure. The time that they had left might have to last them throughout eternity, but she was willing to take that chance. She pressed her body closer to him, so afraid to let go for even a second. Closing her eyes, she tried only to feel the sensation of being near him. She tried to block out what the future would bring as she whispered to him.

"I don't want to think about it now. I just want you to hold me, Nick."

He pulled her closer among the shadows and the quiet of the loft that surrounded them. For a little while they could pretend that today was all there was, and that tomorrow was a lifetime away.

The Present - 2001

LaCroix's haunting notes had long since faded from the radio, and nothing remained but the sound of dead air. He moved to turn off the radio before returning to the sofa to await his re-entry into immortality. Nat had wanted to be here when his transformation occurred so that he did not face it alone, but that would have been too dangerous for her. This time would be different, just LaCroix and himself. No beautiful and alluring Janette to be waiting for him to offer a first kiss into darkness. No candle-lit stone room filled with the sounds of the rebec to welcome him into the night. Only the certainty of timeless bloodlust beckoning, calling on him to fulfill his destiny. Nothing but the vampire summoning him back into the lonely shadows of the undead. Was this how Janette felt when he had so selfishly stolen her mortality? His eternal companion, his sister, Janette. Even as she had pleaded with him to spare her the temptation of ageless timelessness, he could not hear her cries. Although he had rationalized that he offered her a way back that would give her another chance, he was only indulging his own interests. He had brought her back to offer his love, a love that he really could not give to her. She had known that she would not be able to resist the lure of the vampire, and the only needs that he could fulfill by bringing her back, were his own. He leaned back on the sofa, and wondered how Janette was readjusting to vampire life the second time around. What goes around, comes around. Fate had returned to him, it was now his time to go back.

A cold wind whipped through the room, and he sat forward and turned towards the now opened window. The tall figure of a man all clothed in black stood in the shadows of the candle light with the wind flapping around him. The breeze caused the candles to flicker, and he could see brief flashes of the pale intense features of his master. The whiteness of his skin a startling contrast to his black clothes, not unlike the moon and stars in the black deepness of space. However, this being offered no glistening light, his ways led only to darkness.

Being both physically and mentally prepared for this meeting; Nick stood up to approach him. A strange sense of relief accompanied him as he stood before LaCroix. His father took a few steps into the room and looked around before turning back to face him.

"I knew you would be here Nicholas."

Nick's voice reflected no emotion. "I knew you would come."

LaCroix smiled. "I can hear your heart. You are not afraid."

"I am ready."

"It will be good to have you back."

"I will do what I must."

Stepping close, LaCroix placed his hands on his son's shoulders as he drew him near. "I will make this as painless as possible."

Nick stared intently back. "I know."

Nick took in his final breath of mortality as he caught a glimpse of LaCroix's fangs. He stood strong as the constant pressure on his skin was felt with the sharpness of his master's teeth severing the main artery in his neck. Within seconds, he felt his heart slow and his strength diminish. Immediately he was aware of the sensation of his body sinking into darkness. Then he felt as if wild tides were pulling him under to the ocean's bottom. He could hear the unrestrained roar of the waves over his head, pounding and splashing and separating him from the world. Relaxing his muscles, he glided along with the current and let it deposit his body on the sandy shore. In his weakness, he struggled to stand up, and then off in the distance he again saw it. A light shinning so brilliantly, that it sparkled with all the vivid colors of the rainbow. He stared at it, unable to divert his attention from its glow. Its pull was strong, and his soul longed to be in its presence as the mortal he was, but he remembered his promise, closed his eyes, and turned away. Surrendering his will, he walked back into the darkened waters that once more embraced him.

His body shook violently as his drive for his master's blood overtook him. Sucking viciously, he opened his eyes to his old life. His father's blood was sweet and warm, and all he desired was to have more of it. Finding himself lying flat on his bed, he dragged himself up to lean against his headboard. LaCroix pulled his torn wrist from his mouth then produced a bottle and handed it to him. He did not need to ask what to do nor did he care whether or not it was human blood. He consumed all of it. With the first pangs of his hunger satisfied, he looked wearily over to LaCroix who smiled.

"Welcome back, Nicholas."

Nick only sighed, and closed his eyes. Yesterday's dream of mortality was over. He was a vampire again, but his feelings for Natalie were still the same as were his need to belong to humanity, and his need to believe. LaCroix had transformed him into a vampire, but what was really different?

Thinking of his love for Nat, he could not believe how already their separation could hurt so badly. He had wondered once if his love for her would transcend time, and now he knew. The pain he now felt would go on and on, but he would never give up on his struggle for a permanent return to humanity. In the past five years, he had gone from vampire to mortal and then back to vampire again, but little had changed. LaCroix's words echoed in his head. "The more things change, the more they remain the same."

The End