Nicholas has been debating whether or not it is possible for a vampire to have faith for a very long time. He equates faith with the mortality he seeks. While he desperately wants faith, he is fearful that it may be denied to him because of his not so righteous past. Natalie tells him in "Last Knight," that because of his faith that he may just be, "the most mortal man she has ever known." But how strong is his faith? How badly does he want his mortality? Would he kill for it, give up his faith? Nick has found a cure, but how much of his humanity will he sacrifice to be mortal again?

This fan fiction story takes place in the second season. All the best of "Forever Knight" will be present including Nick, Nat, LaCroix, Janette, Schanke, Captain Cohen, and a very special new addition. Come meet Nick and Janette's older vampire brother, Roland. He is definitely a new member to the vampire family who you will love. This story was written in true "Forever Knight" style so as to have easily been included as one of the second season's episodes.

Again, I send my gratitude to Rosemary who has always so graciously and enthusiastically agreed to beta-read for me. Her speed and accuracy has made this story more enjoyable for everyone. Thank you Rosemary for taking the time to examine and correct this work, and thereby entrusting me with a most valuable asset - your time.

This story is dedicated to my husband Neil whose faith, hope, and love have made my words possible. He is the one who has always had the faith in our ever changing relationship, and each day proves that there really is such a thing as happily ever after.

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

Disclaimers: The Forever Knight characters belong to Columbia Tri/Star. No copyright infringement is intended. This story and all other characters are copyrighted by me.

Please send all comments to GwennM@hotmail.com

It was not the most pleasant time to be in Buffalo, New York. The roads had been plowed, but the early in the season record snow fall had made getting around very difficult- but only for mortals. There had not been any snow in Toronto when he had left, but this city looked as if it had been bombarded with the white frozen particles. A truck had been by, freeing access to the cemetery's driveway. The remainder of the cemetery lay blanketed in over two feet of snow. All except the occasional cross or tall monument lay hidden from view. The impressive wrought iron gates stood opened and immersed in mountains of snow that the snow removal machinery had pushed against them. Although he could have followed the cleared pathway, he chose instead to be led by her heart beat. It was a more natural way to locate a mortal, it was the way of his kind. Gradually, he stepped towards a freshly dug grave and the shivering body that cried over it.

"Good evening Mrs. Stiller."

Startled, the woman stepped back and lost her breath when she turned to see the tall imposing figure that had been behind her in the dark. Smiling, he offered his hand to steady her, but she refused.

"I did not mean to alarm you. I merely wish to pay my respects."

Distrustfully, she looked into his eyes. "It is almost midnight. Why do you come here now?"

"I did first try to visit your residence, but it seems as of late, you are not there much."

Breathing a sigh of relief, she calmed herself and again directed her attention to the grave before her. "No, I'm not. There just doesn't seem to be any reason to be there any more." Tears filled her eyes then poured down her already moistened cheeks. The tears caused her to cough, and when she again felt some control, she turned her gaze back to him. "I do not believe that I know you. How did you know Sylvia?"

"I did not know your daughter, Mrs. Stiller. I only thought to express my sympathies for the pain you must now be experiencing. Has the faith healer come to comfort you over your loss?"

Bitterly, she looked away. "No one has been here! Not even a card has been sent! My daughter died because of that faith healer, and she reacts to us as though we are nothing. In her eyes we must not even be worthy of a call."

The dark stranger's voice became smooth and clear as he stepped closer to the grieving woman. "Not even an offer to cover the expense's of the funeral? It must not have been easy for you to have afforded this final resting place for your only child. Especially after all the costs of her special equipment. The faith healer is quite wealthy, is she not?"

Tears came again as she thought about all that she had lost. "She has so much, and has left me with nothing."

"I'm sure that at the time of this unfortunate incident that the faith healer must have tried everything in her power to assist until medical help arrived."

"No one helped. She died in my arms."

"Not even some words of faith from the healer to comfort you? It seems that you are the one with all the faith. A misguided faith that your daughter died for a reason, faith that the two of you somehow deserved this tragic turn of events, and faith that you have no recourse even though the faith healer walks unaffectedly away with her riches. She... cries... not... over her child's grave in the dead of night!"

"There is nothing I can do."

With red swollen eyes, she watched as the man pointed firmly to the new grave. "If she were mine, she would not lie cold in her grave without retribution. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life!"

"Are you suggesting that I kill Orah?"

"I only suggest that there exists options and a greater justice. If there is ever to be any peace for your daughter and yourself, then you must consider these other options."

"I'm so confused. Please, help me. I don't know what I want."

His voice filled with anger. "You want a resolution to this. Your daughter will never come back to you. Why should those responsible live without consequences? Look at her grave! Is this to be your conclusion? Is this how it all ends?"

Holding her head, it suddenly felt heavy in her hands. His words felt as though they burned her, and she screamed out into the night. "NO! NO!" Then turning back to her child's grave her uncontrollable words fell out as she sobbed. "Sylvia, I'm so sorry that I took you to see her. I'm so sorry, my baby."

Again the man took a step closer and almost whispered in her ear. "You will never be able to hold her again or hear her call your name. Take care of this problem now, and the faith healer will never hurt you or another again."

Suddenly, her legs gave way from all the weight of her stress, and she fell across the grave and hysterically sobbed. "I will! I need this to stop! I need to stop this pain!"

His voice boomed down around her. "Orah will be in Toronto for her next show. Don't let Sylvia down Mrs. Stiller."

The graveyard grew silent as she struggled to get up and thank the mysterious stranger. As she turned and wiped her tears, she found no trace of her unexpected guest. On the ground lay an envelope. She picked it up. Inside, she saw a plane ticket and several thousand dollars. A note was enclosed that read…"So Sylvia can rest in peace." It was apparent what she must now do.

****** One week later ******

The sun had risen an hour ago and she was exhausted, but running the Raven meant those extra hours beyond the clubs closing time. It was the only way to guarantee all the proper provisions for both mortal and vampire alike. After completing the last of the re-orders, she returned her ledger to the desk drawer. Although there were no windows in the Raven's back room office, she could not block out the effects of the daylight hours that had saturated the city of Toronto outside of her club's door. Over the centuries, she had spent much time and effort learning how to cope with the strain of the light, but it never felt comfortable. There was no way around it, the best way to survive was to just give into the sleep during the hours in which the light reigned.

After blowing out the sole candle, she moved towards her back door and the darkened stairway that led to her apartment beneath the Raven. Finding her way through the darkness was no effort, with the vampire's eyes everything seemed brightly lit. She had taken this same route to her hidden retreat so many times in the past twenty years, that she could have found her place with her eyes closed. As she moved closer to her door, a familiar wave of sensations swept across her and she stopped. Someone waited for her inside, one of her own kind, one of her own blood. Now things made more sense. All night long she had the feeling that someone was nearby, but now it was unmistakable. Closing her eyes, she locked in on the vibration that emanated from the other side of her door. A knowing smile began to creep across her lips, the sensation was that of her brother Nichola. It was pleasurable to feel him so much a part of her again. Several months must have passed since his last visit, and only then had he returned to her for information on Toronto's low life. Maybe this was his way of surprising her by spending the day. The blue in her eyes twinkled as she thought of several ways in which Nichola could make up for his inattentiveness. Excitedly reaching for the door's knob, she thought again and held back from going in. Maybe she should play along with his little plot, and pretend that she was unaware of his presence. No, she would not let him back into her life that easily. Anyway it would be more fun to have him squirm a little first. With renewed determination, she flung open the door and called out.

"Did you think that you could fool me Nichola?"

As her eyes caught the others, her words stuck in her throat. Frozen in place, she stared at the dark-haired vampire that leaned against the pillar with his arms folded across his chest. An amused smile lit up his face as he studied her reaction.

"Janette, is it possible that the centuries have made you even more beautiful? But I am not Nichola. You are close, however. Care to try again?"

"You! You are dead!"

"Nice to see you again too, sis. But I'm afraid that the rumors of my death, as they say, have been greatly exaggerated."

Closing the door tightly behind her, her body shook as she crossed the room towards him. Moving close, her fingers trembled as she cautiously reached out to touch his face and whisper his name.

"Roland."

"Ah, so you do remember me, it has been a while."

"LaCroix said you were dead."

"Yeah, well I guess he would say that. By the way, how is the old man? Still his same carefree pleasant self?"

Stepping back, she tried to make sense of what her eyes and ears were telling her. The pain of all the years without him, felt as if it were crushing her as she looked again into his eyes.

"Roland, it has been almost 800 years. Where have you been?"

"Like you, I have been everywhere, but most of all I have been out of LaCroix's path. Speaking of being out of LaCroix's path, I heard it did not take him long to replace me. This Nichola that you mentioned, he is the one who took my place, oui?"

The sweet memories of their time together caused him to reach over to her and run his hand softly down her face. Her eyes briefly closed as her head moved to follow the caress of his hand.

"I also heard Janette, that you were the one who chose my replacement."

Gently closing her eyes from the sweetness of his touch, she sighed. The hand that caressed her face then slid around to her back, and he drew her towards him and he kissed her deeply. As he pulled away slightly, he smiled as he noticed that her breaths had quickened. It had been so long since they had been together, but their chemistry was still strong.

"Don't you know Janette that there is no substitute for the real thing?"

Feeling her strength to resist him beginning to weaken, she pulled away and went to retrieve one of her bottles of blood. After releasing her, he followed her into the narrow kitchen. There were several already opened bottles, and she browsed through the assortment until she found one with the highest concentration of human blood and poured its contents into a crystal goblet. Consuming the drink to fortify herself, she then began to pour another as she looked up at Roland.

"Would you care for some?"

Smiling, he moved closer to her. "Always the hostess, but no. I have already helped myself while I was waiting for you."

As she finished her second glass, she again felt calm enough to think and speak. Placing the glass on the counter, she then confronted her brother. "I did nothing wrong, Roland! I thought you were dead. Did you expect me to turn down LaCroix's offer to pick the next one?"

Quickly he went to her and pulled her into his embrace. "Non Janette, you misunderstand. I would never deny you anything nor resent you in any way." He smiled. "Although, you could have at least waited a year before going off to the next lover." Bending down, he softly kissed her lips then gently pulled away to look at her. "I needed to leave, and you needed to forget." Moving from her, he sat down on one of the bar stools near the counter, then again directed his attention to his sister. "What did LaCroix say happened to me?"

Before she spoke, she reached over and began to pour another drink. "He said that you were still in the castle that we used to occupy during the day when it burned down. He said that you had been trapped by the daylight, and could not escape the flames."

"OUCH! That would hurt! And you never thought to question him?"

"I was barely two hundred years old, and I would never have questioned anything he said then."

"And do you now?"

Feeling hurt, she indignantly turned away and finished a third drink. Rising from his seat, he rushed to face her.

"I'm sorry Janette. You know how I feel about his interference with our lives. Actually, I'm glad that you felt free to choose another. It was the only way I could escape."

"Then LaCroix knows that you are still alive?"

"Of course, but thankfully he has allowed me to move on. A large part due to you and Nichola. I guess that the two of you have provided him with more than enough distractions that kept him from pursuing me." Taking her hand in his, he brought her towards the richly embossed love seat in the adjoining room. "Please, sit with me so we can talk." Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, she sat close to him and looked into his eyes.

"Why did you leave me, Roland?"

"My disappearance was for everyone's good. LaCroix was able to say that I was dead and save face. You were free to choose another, and I was free to go my own way -not LaCroix's way."

"But you stayed away so long."

Moving an arm around her shoulders, he sighed. "The truth is that I never planned on returning. It is too dangerous."

"Then why are you here now?"

"Janette, tell me about my brother, tell me about Nichola. I would ask LaCroix, but I doubt he would be receptive to me. He might even try to make my supposed death a reality."

"Why do you want to know about Nichola?"

"I'm here because of him in a way."

Starting to feel like she was being used, her voice sounded annoyed. "Then go and speak to him yourself!"

"I intend to, but I thought a little introduction from you might make things easier for both of us. After all, even if he were to believe that I am his long lost brother, he may not be too happy to discover that it was my departure that precipitated him being brought across."

Feeling irritated, she glared angrily at him. "You left me alone with LaCroix! Why should I help you?"

Tenderly raising his hand to her face, he again began to gently stroke her cool skin. His dark brown eyes lovingly met hers. " Janette, you have never been unhappy as a vampire, and I envy you that. Did you ever know that I was the one who told LaCroix of your mortal whereabouts? I selected you to be my sister. To release you from that vile place in which you were a mortal slave."

"So I should thank you for changing my status from mortal slave to eternal vampire slave?"

"You had a chance to choose just like the rest of us. I did not create your situation. You could have gone back to your prostitution, he would not have taken you. At least you had that chance to choose, and you chose wisely. You were saved from your world, I was forced from mine."

Intrigued by his words, she allowed the harshness she had just shown him to melt away. "You never told me Roland, what happened between you and LaCroix before me? What made you hate him so? You were his son for almost four hundred years, yet there was always something dark that separated the two of you."

"I promise to tell you soon Janette, but for now I need to know of Nichola and his search for humanity."

A surprised expression crossed her face. "For someone who has been dead for almost eight hundred years, you seem to know too much already. How do you know of his quest?"

"There are some things among our kind that cannot be hidden, and throughout the centuries I have always kept track, and out of the way, of my family."

As she stared deeply into his expressive eyes, her body began to ache for his touch. The longing for their past relationship ignited inside her. The desire to be near him pulled at her fangs, and she wanted to be a part of him again. She wanted to taste his blood. Sliding closer to him, she began to unbutton his shirt. Then licking at his neck she whispered seductively to him. "I can think of a way for you to gather the information that you seek without the bother of talking."

Turning towards her, he smiled. "I was just thinking the same thing myself."

Lovingly, he ran his fingers through her long dark hair, as she gazed back at him, and their eight hundred year separation seemed like just a flash in time as he picked her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

******

Sliding off the bed, Roland began to redress as he leaned over to give his sister a kiss.

"Didn't LaCroix teach you anything? Or are you in the habit of not holding anything back?"

Seductively, she smiled back, "Not everything, Roland."

"Are you kidding? I even know the name of your nanny when you were two years old." he smirked, "Don't you have that best selling book 'Everything you wanted to know about being a vampire, but were afraid to ask?' Remind me to give you a few pointers before I leave."

"Leave? You just arrived. So you only came to me for the information in my blood?"

"I came to you despite the information you provided me, but it was a good excuse. I guess I was more informed than I thought, but I did happen to notice that you have not remained faithful to me these past centuries."

Rising from the bed, Janette resentfully moved before her brother and confronted him. "Did you expect for me to be celibate for a man who supposedly died almost eight hundred years ago?" Fuming, she turned away.

Taking hold of her arm, he tenderly pulled her back to face him. "No, of course not." Trying to think of a way to make up for the insensitivity that he had shown her, he suddenly had an idea.

"How would you like to hear a bed time story about a time and a place that existed two hundred years before you were born?"

Delightedly, Janette's eyes lit up. "Really Roland? After all these years, you will finally tell me of your first encounter with LaCroix?"

Smiling at her enthusiasm, he teased her.

"I had better tell you. I can't hold my breath that long waiting for you to discover the information from my blood."

Throwing him a vicious glare, she impatiently pulled at him. "So, are you going to tell me or torment me?"

"Please Janette, don't have me make any more difficult decisions today." Taking her hand, he led her to the sofa and pulled her close as she sat down next to him. With the smile from his teasing of her fading, he turned his attentions to having his sister lean comfortably against him, and to their birthplace nearly two hundred years before his sister's eternal life began.

****** Flashback ******

"My Country of France was very poor, but not my family. I was of noble blood, and the only son of the king's personal advisor. The sick and the poor were everywhere, but not around us. We lived on the court's grounds. Each day my two younger sisters would sit with my Mother and the other ladies of the court. They were taught to sew and to keep themselves out of trouble, while I would follow my father around as long as I did not have classes to attend. Oh yes, the classes! Words cannot describe their intensity and the feeling of power they inspired. We were taught to ride the horses and to fight. We were all males, of course, and all quite young by today's standards. I was sixteen when I was prepared for battle, but many of the others were even younger, some less than ten. Much emphasis was placed on hand to hand combat, but I excelled with the swords. They were heavy, not like the metals of today. It would take all of my strength to lift the weapon, and I would be exhausted after practicing with it for only a short while. Our teacher would place wooden pillars around the yards, and would have us believe that they were the enemy. We were taught to hack at the poles as if our lives depended on it, for one day we all knew that it would. When I grew older, I was sent off to war with my king. Charlemagne was a brilliant and talented fighter, and we had many victories. I was in my mid twenties when the wars ended, and of course we were victorious. The time of peace that followed was magical at the palace, and I was free to wander anywhere on the courtyards. For me it was a time of wonder, and I was in awe of the splendor of all around me. The castle's dining room tables never wanted for food. I doubted that I could have given names to all the different varieties of exotic dishes and fruits. I had never seen so much abundance, and I never failed to walk by the fireplaces to watch the endless rows of pots simmering with their delicacies. But of all the plenty that we had been blessed with, what caught my eye the most was the stunning women of the court. I was surrounded in the splendor and elegant charm of an endless parade of enticing fair ladies, but it was Tyfainne that captured my heart. Barely a woman at sixteen, she was the most exquisite maiden that I had ever encountered. On warm summer nights, we would secretly meet in the gardens, and spend what seemed like a spellbinding eternity gazing into each others eyes. Our favorite rendezvous was at the Hot Springs that Charlemagne had turned into a private bath house for only his family and the closest of staff. So many nights, the two of us would steal away in the early hours and share the privacy of the bath house for ourselves. The most erotic hours I have ever spent were with Tyfainne, for it was there that we explored our love for each other and were lost to all else in the world. It was obvious to us that our love was like no other, and soon we made arrangements with our parents to marry. We were overjoyed the day we heard that Charlemagne had given his blessing, and the preparations began. Surely, our love could not wait for mere words to permit us to be joined, and we continued to meet secretly in the night to seek the closeness that we shared. I was a prisoner to her love, and there was nothing I would not have done for her had she asked. She was my only world, my only reason to live.

It was the night before I was to wed my treasure that I became personally acquainted with LaCroix. I had seen him fight along side Charlemagne on many occasions, and I knew him by sight and reputation, but I had never exchanged words with him. His look had always frightened me, and I saw no reason to learn anything more of him. Many said that he had sold his soul to the devil for they had witnessed him being run through with a sword, yet never fall in defeat. One of my friends swore to me that he saw an enemy warrior cut off his entire arm during a battle, yet only to see him whole in less than an hour with no damage at all. So I was content to be far from this man, no matter how close he was to our king who seemed to love him dearly. It was on this fateful night that I had gone to the usual site near the fountains, only to find my lovely Tyfainne draped across this vile man's arms. My first thought was that she was lifeless, and I ran without thinking towards the demon that so effortlessly carried her. But as I approached, he ordered me to stop, and he stared at me with eyes the color of fire. His glare and voice stopped me in my tracks, and I even turned to run until I remembered what this monster held within his hands. My innocent Tyfainne, was in his clutches. My mind raced wildly for possible plans to remove her from the situation, but there was no other choice but to fight this evil. I braced myself, reminding myself that I had fought much greater enemies for my king and Country. This battle would be for no less. Enraged, I faced and approached him, while fear of whatever he was, beat hard in my chest and throat. As I neared him, I was able to see that my delicate belle still breathed, and tears of relief began to cloud my eyes. I could not hide my fear for her life, and my first words to him vibrated with terror.

"What do you want with her?"

"No Roland, you have misinterpreted my motives."

When I heard him use my name, I could hardly breathe from the weight of the shock, but I struggled so as not to lose this battle before it began, and I pushed on.

"You know my name. I am but one of many. How can this be?"

"You are wrong again, Roland. I have been watching your movements since you were but a child. You are of nobility, and you have much potential. I only wish to place you in a position that better suits you."

His words mesmerized me briefly, but then I shook it off, and my bitterness returned.

"Release Tyfainne, so that she may awaken and return home!"

Looking down on his prey, he smiled then glared back at me.

"Wouldn't she then miss your nightly rendezvous? Yes, I have been watching."

I must have gone mad with anger at that point, for I foolishly drew my sword and held it out towards him. I remember hearing my voice tremble as I tried to show no fear.

"Let her go NOW or I will have to harm you sir."

His only response was a short laugh at first, but that suddenly transformed into a terrifying snarl which revealed two long white teeth. I had never encountered such a beast in my life, and I jumped back as I found it impossible to withdraw my gaze from the fangs that glistened in the moon's light. It was at that point that LaCroix placed my love on her feet next to him, and began to lick her neck. Then turning to me, he challenged me.

"Why don't you come here and get her brave warrior?"

I had run out of all ideas and any hope that I could save her. This was an enemy that I had not been prepared to fight, and I did not know how to defend Tyfainne nor myself. I sadly looked at the beauty that was soon to be my wife. Her eyes were wide open, yet she saw nothing. She breathed, but only enough to sustain her precarious life. I called out to her to try and break her of her trance. "TYFAINNE!" She never even twitched a muscle, she was locked into a world that I could never reach. My eyes drifted back to LaCroix, and I almost pleaded to him this time.

"What have you done to her? It is as if she is under a spell."

"She is under a spell! My spell! She would do my every bidding, even kill you if I mentioned it. But that is not my intention."

"Then what is it that you want? What manner of demon are you?"

"I am what you will soon be. I have been alive for over seven centuries, a long time to be without any family. In my mortal life, the gods never blessed me with a son. I have searched a very long time for you."

Suddenly, everything became clear to me, and I knew that I had no options of a safe escape for my Tyfainne and myself. I looked hard at him as I spoke.

"I now know what you are, you are a creature of the night. You can survive only in darkness, and you feed on humans. You ......are a vampire!"

Knowing that my fiancee was only a breath away from being his meal, I chose my words carefully as I continued. "And now you want me to live as you? I will not! I want no part of you! Release Tyfainne from her trance at once and return her to me."

I watched as a condescending smile crossed his lips as he seemed unaffected by my demands.

"Since you are soon to be my son and I your Father and master, we should learn to communicate better. You have no choice! I have chosen you to travel throughout eternity with me. You will do as I demand."

"You are mistaken sir. I do have a choice. I would rather die than be a part of your world."

"Oh yes, you will need to die first, but then I will need you to return to me. As for Tyfainne, is it? Yes Tyfainne. Let us just say that she is my guarantee then when you see that light, that you will turn away and come to me to drink my blood. I will keep her safely next to me until you come back. Decide to walk into the light, then you only need to wait for her to join you shortly thereafter."

"You would kill her?"

His answer came back to me colder than ice. "Without even blinking!"

I knew that all was lost, yet I gave up all dignity and began to beg.

"Please sir, I will do anything if you only let us live in peace. We are to wed tomorrow."

"Touching, but I am afraid that you are going to have to change your plans."

I watched as he lifted then laid the love of my life down on the ivy draped stone bench, and caressed her long dark curls. When he finished with her, he turned to me.

"It is up to you whether she sees the sun rise tomorrow."

I looked longingly at her. The light from the moon had cast shadows of light and dark across her youthful face. She was too perfect to die at such a tender age. The thought struck me that I could return to her as a vampire, and continue to love her. So I turned to my captor and again pleaded.

"If I do as you wish, would I be able to return to her and live with her until her natural death?"

"Once you have become what I am, you cannot love her as a man. Your desire for her would kill her. But there will be so many others, that you will soon forget this one."

I remembered turning to look at her again, I felt like my life had already been drained as I spoke.

"No, I will never forget her, and I only pray that she will not be grieved by my absence."

"After you return to me, she will be made to not even remember your name. Now Roland, your time has arrived. My name is Lucien LaCroix, and you must come to me."

My heart was broken as thoughts of never seeing her again or feeling her in my arms filled my mind. As I courageously approached my moment of death, there was no fear. I only felt the pain of what I was about to lose filling my body and soul. As he placed a hand on each of my shoulders, I never let my eyes stray from the beauty who innocently slept in the warm summer's air. Then I felt the searing pain at the side of my neck, but I did not struggle. I simply closed my eyes, resigned to my fate, as I felt my mortal life slip away. Then I saw the light that he had referred to. It was captivating, so alluring that I felt drawn to it. But then I heard LaCroix's voice as if he were calling to me in my dreams. He called for me to come back to him, and I then remembered what he held hostage. I turned away from the light, and I never looked back. The next thing I felt was his sweet warm blood rolling down my throat. It was finer than the richest wine I had ever tasted, and all I could think of was how hungry I was. When I arose, I was weak, and I then learned what I must do in order to remain alive and to be his son. It was necessary for me to kill. I had killed many times before, but only in battle. I looked again at Tyfainne through my new vampire eyes, and everything inside me strained to make her my first meal. It was LaCroix who stopped me, he could not have her die. She was the reason I remained. Just then a servant on her way to the castle with clean linens walked by. LaCroix immediately hypnotized her, and she was to be my first meal. Satiated, I watched in agony as my new Father told my love that she never heard of me. Finally, I silently held back and watched as she walked out of my life forever."

The story was over, and Roland looked over to his sister. It was hard to imagine that she had no comment on his story. Moving her to the side, he gazed at her sleeping features. Smiling he realized that she had fallen asleep during his reminiscence. It was already late in the morning, and they both did need their sleep today before meeting Nichola. It was time for him too to get some rest while the sun was still out. Reaching underneath his sister, he picked her up as he stood. With a few immortal steps, he placed her in bed and laid next her. Hopefully Janette had heard most of his painful story. He had no intentions of ever telling it again.

******

Nicholas rested his glass of cow's blood on the window sill as he looked below onto the moonlit streets of Toronto. The first of the Winter's snow had begun to fall, and he gazed out as everything became covered by the white blanket. It was barely after 6:00 PM, yet it was already dark. The streets were at their height of activity as the snow fell on all the rush hour citizens. It was definitely more hectic than usual, the first snow, though hardly an inch, had traffic crawling. There were also many more people struggling with heavy shopping bags. They were most likely worried that they would not have enough provisions if the storm were to worsen. But not all struggled in the snow as he peered out his window. Smiling, he watched as a young couple playfully threw snowballs at each other in the lightly blowing snow. The snow was so light that it appeared to have trouble sticking to itself, and the snowball fell apart long before it made contact with its target. Unconsciously, he raised his half full glass to drink, but was intercepted by Nat who seemed to magically appear before him. He startled for a moment as she guided his hand back down to the windowsill to deposit the glass of blood. Curiously, her eyes wandered to the sight that had Nick so fascinated.

"I can see why you were distracted. It's beautiful!"

"Yeah, it is, and no matter how often I see it, I never tire of it. Its simple purity. Its cleansing whiteness."

As he again reached for his drink, Nat produced a full glass of the white protein shake that she hoped he would substitute for his usual nourishment. Taking the potion from her hand, he stared into the drink before clenching his eyes and taking a long labored breath. Opening his eyes, he could see Nat's anticipation of his acceptance of this poor replacement, reflecting in her eyes. Holding the glass up to the moon light from outside, he mumbled out loud.

"This is my reminder that assimilating the white, the pure, the light, is not easy at first, but with much pain and time it may become more natural." Lifting the glass higher he raised his voice. "To my atonement."

Bringing the glass's rim so that it gently rested on his lips, he steeled himself for the first sip. Swallowing fast, he willed the horrid liquid to remain inside him. It burned and tore at him internally as if he had swallowed acid. Looking into Natalie's eyes he smiled and ran his hand gently down the side of her cheek.

"Another small step towards my mortality, so many more on this journey."

"The small steps count Nick! Look at all those tiny snowflakes that are falling. Each is needed, each is a part of this beautiful picture. You have to believe in yourself and what you are doing."

Staring down into the milky white mixture, he mournfully whispered. "Yeah, I know."

As he began to raise the white drink for another agonizing sip, the telephone rang. Nat watched as he placed the full goblet of white on the sill next to the other glass before crossing the room to answer the phone. The call was short, but Nat could tell that it was important by the tone in Nick's voice. After replacing the receiver, he looked over towards her and asked.

"Does the name Orah mean anything to you?"

"I've read that she will be in town for the next few days to perform to a very large audience. There never seems to be a problem finding an unlimited number of gullible victims."

"Victims? You do not believe?"

"Nick, for heaven's sake, she's a faith healer. Nothing more than a magic act for people who need to believe. Are you asking me if I believe that the blind can see with her help? Then my answer would be a definite of course not!"

"Her life has been threatened. That was the Captain just now. She wants Schanke and myself to keep an eye on her during her stay in Toronto."

"Well, I've heard that she is quite beautiful, probably part of her charm, but be careful Nick. You tend to be vulnerable to false hope."

"You just told me to have faith, and now you advise against it?"

"I told you to have faith in yourself, because that is the only place that it is real and lasting. Faith comes from within, don't look anywhere else for it."

Twisting around, Nat scooped up the milky drink from the sill and held it up to him.

"How about another one of those small steps?"

Moving close to her, he gently kissed her on the forehead then went back across the room to retrieve his long black trench coat. As he headed for the door, he stopped and turned back to her.

"I'll have to go that short distance another time Nat. The Captain said that Schanke is waiting for me at the auditorium where Orah will be performing."

Giving her a quick smile, he turned back towards the elevator and stepped in. As the elevator door slid closed, she went to retrieve the other drink from the sill. With one hand carrying the cow's blood and the other carrying the protein shake, she moved to the sink and poured them both down the drain.

******

Nicholas slid comfortably behind the Caddy's steering wheel, and started the car. Pressing the button on the remote, he opened the garage door, and drifted out into the night. Every street in the city had been covered in a fine layer of snow; only tire tracks marked its perfection. As he paused at the first traffic light, he watched as each blowing snowflake glittered as it passed through the head light beams. It was cold, he knew it, but he could not feel it. In fact, he could not even remember the sensation after all these years, but it was important to dress like he could feel it or too much suspicion would be aroused. Reaching over, he played with the controls for the heater, but they did not work. The heater might never have worked, he had only noticed it when his partner complained while riding with him. Each of his breaths were easily visible because of the frigid temperatures, but he was comfortable in any dark climate. Although everyone complained about the snow's inconvenience, it was always special to him. The bright reflection of the snow was his own personal way of being immersed by the light without burning. It was a form of purity that did not hurt him. It was white, and the color white was made up of all the rays of the sun. Even though being mortal and feeling the freezing air would have been preferable, it was still a rare gift to be able to enjoy the snow without its cold companion. A smile began to form as he wondered what poison LaCroix would have to comment about the start of the Winter season. Leaning over to reach the radio, he flipped it on and music filled the car. It was not his music of choice, but much better than the regular depressing melodies. After a few minutes of driving and listening to the strange harmony, the voice of his Master interrupted the CERK rhythm.

"Good evening gentle listeners. There seems to be a storm brewing tonight. A change in the weather. But it is not the snow to which I am referring. The disturbance of which I speak is not physical in nature. It is a squall of a different kind. It is a spiritual turbulence of which I speak, and revolves around faith and the one who heals with it. Listen dear listeners and think. Think about where your faith comes from. Is what you call faith real, or is it only another desire? Faith is nothing more than a cruel joke. A tool that was invented to allow you to believe in the impossible. Faith is merely a word. A word that describes the act of believing in what we cannot see. There are many who are in asylums for claiming no more. We are deemed good to believe in what we cannot prove if it is faith, but branded as insane when we speak of what we cannot see in all other aspect of our lives. And is this belief that you strive to attain a benefit to you? When your faith wavers do you ask, what is wrong with me? Does faith make the poor wealthy or the sick well? No! Yet we feel less adequate when we lose this faith. How many Mothers have fruitlessly cried for their sick babies? How many have held to their faith while being tortured and killed? And how many watched their lives destroyed, yet clung to their faith? Faith only mocks us, it gives us nothing of value in return. Hold fast to faith and it will give you nothing but pain.

How comforting to believe that there exists a divine plan or an answer for everything. How soothing a thought to know that if you only believe strongly enough, that your suffering will end. If this were true, then it would be only a personal level of belief that prevents you from achieving the impossible. Do you really believe that? Haven't you lived long enough to know better than that? Only a fool believes all things!"

The Caddy interior became deathly silent. With his Master's last words, the radio frequency seemed to disappear. Not even the music returned, allowing only the words of his Father to swirl in his head. Turning off the sound of dead air, he murmured to himself.

"Only a fool believes? Then let me be such a fool."

As he drove, LaCroix's message nagged at him. Not that it was any surprise that his Master knew of his struggles in maintaining his faith, but it was unsettling that he had also alluded to the faith healer's presence. If LaCroix had bothered to mention her arrival, then there must be something more to her than mere theatrics. Also strange was that his Father directed his attack at him and his faith, and not at the faith healer. LaCroix was trying to make him doubt his own faith, as if how much faith he had would make a difference. Maybe this faith healer's appearance was a threat to his Master's power over him. But he did have to be careful, Nat was right. There were too many instances where he had been led astray by unscrupulous prophets with false hopes. In his desperation to regain his humanity, he had undergone torturous treatments and trusted the unprincipled. Even now, going in with his eyes wide open, he knew that he was easy prey for anyone who would promise to show him the way to his salvation. But he had no reason to even speak with this faith healer. All he had to do was to keep her safe until she moved her show to the next town. Taking in a sharp deep breath, he relaxed. There really wasn't much to this assignment after all. Seeing that he was not far from the building where Orah would be performing, he reached down under his seat and felt around for the police light. Grabbing hold of it, he brought it up and placed it on his dashboard. He was not in the mood to start searching for a place to park his large car, and with his flashing lights he would be able to drive directly to the Hall without any obstacles. After securing the fixture, he turned on its flashing red lights and siren and glided into a spot directly in front of the highly secured building. Leaving the light flashing but the sound off, he exited the Caddy and began to scan the area. Large groups of hopeful believers poured out from buses and onto the pavement, and long lines began forming down the snow covered street. There were so many that patiently waited in wheel chairs and with crutches or canes. The line grew as the police took the time to search each visitor to be certain that each was free of weapons before granting them access. A sudden wave of disgust mixed with pity flooded him. All these pathetic souls searching for a magical answer to their problems. So much tragedy was represented here, yet there was also so much faith and hope. If he were not here on business, would he have come to join the sorrowful masses? There really was no difference between himself and these hopefuls. There was no easy way to a cure.

A firm hand slapped him on the back causing him to turn around startled. As he turned he saw the satisfied grin of his partner. Rubbing his hands together, Schanke tried to generate some heat as he savored Nick's reaction. Making his perfect partner jump was one of the perks of his job.

"Glad you decided to join us from the Twilight Zone Knight. Luckily, we get to watch the soothesayer from the inside. I'm freezing my tail off out here."

"Captain Cohen said that there has been a threat on her life. Anything more on that?"

"We had a phone number traced, but it led to a phone booth. The interesting thing is that it's that telephone on the corner down there. Probably just some nut trying to have some fun. Let's face it, you can't throw a stone around here without hitting one of these loonies. Anyway, I've been around the building a few times, and it looks as if we have two access points. The front door here and a small service door in the back. Both of them are heavily guarded."

"Let's go in then Schank, and check the situation in there."

Both detectives moved across the snow covered sidewalks, with each step crushing the newly fallen snow beneath their feet. A cold wind caused Schanke to pull his long coat closer together, but the change in temperature went unnoticed by his partner. As they drew closer to the door both detectives produced their badges, and squeezed past the crowds. They stepped into the main hall where at least fifty more people waited for seats to the show. Finally they were able to negotiate a path through the hall where they would take their positions. Studying the crowds, Nick couldn't help but think of all those who would not gain admission and would be turned away tonight. Maybe the ones who could not get in would be better off. At least they would not be racked with the pain of having their hopes crushed. Moving around was difficult in the tightly packed room, but at first glance the security seemed to be well done. There were no windows or obstructed areas to be concerned about, and the layout of the uniformed officers made it impossible to get near the stage without tremendous effort. Leaning against the wall, he looked down at his watch. The show should have begun thirty minutes ago. As he looked up, he noticed that the guards from the hall were starting to close the huge doors that led to the room they were in. The sound of the two doors closing was joined with the dimming of the lights, and the room fell silent as all eyes focused on the stage. The room became as dark as night, and Schanke moved along side of Nick and gave the whole idea of protecting someone in the dark a disapproving shake of his head. After acknowledging his partner's silent objection with a nod, Nick turned his attentions back to surveying the crowds. With the room's uncanny silence, he needed no reminder that this theatrical production was about to begin. All eyes seemed riveted to the stage's curtains as they suddenly began to glow with an eerie red illumination. Slowly the curtains separated enough in the middle to reveal a veiled woman seated on a chair that was meant to resemble a throne. The back of the chair towered at least two meters above her head, and was embedded with tiny pieces of broken mirror that cast long streams of light over the audience. The hush was soon shattered as a voice rang out from over the speakers that were dispersed throughout the room.

"Orah is now in a trance. She is reaching down into the deepest part of her soul to help you. Her name means light. She is your light to follow into a new life. A life of health and goodness. You have come here to be healed. You have come to the right place. Orah will shine her inner light on as many of you as she can."

A smirk crossed Schanke's face as he leaned over to whisper to Nick.

"At $100.00 a person, I would shine too."

Nick only replied to Schanke's comment with a short irritated wave of his hand in which he tried to communicate to his partner that he was not interested in hearing any more of his editorials. Then his eyes turned abruptly back to the stage, as a long collective sigh arose from the audience. Orah had arisen from her chair, and although hardly audible Nick heard her words.

"I am ready now."

The lights in the room slowly began to get brighter as she removed her veil and began to descend the few steps that led from the stage. His gaze was fastened to her, and he could not look away. It was impossible not to look at her, for with each movement she would radiate more. His eyes gradually drifted down her long black hair, and he followed each wave as it swayed freely around her oval face. His vision then effortlessly wandered to her warm dark eyes, as she studied the hopeful group before her. Then lovingly, she moved towards a small boy in the first row. Moving carefully so as not to frighten him, she gently smiled as she bent down to touch his youth sized wheel chair. All watched as she closed her eyes and desperately explored the boys body with her hands. With great interest Nick watched as she grimaced from pain as her fingers passed over certain areas of his legs. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she trembled while holding his hands, and spoke to him as though the two of them were the only ones in the room.

"How tiny and innocent you are to live with this much darkness. I am going to press on your legs, and I might hurt you a little bit, but it will be fine. Do not be frightened. I can feel where the blackness dwells within you, and I want to try to get it to move away. But I need you to help me. Will you do that?"

The frightened boy nodded as Orah stood over him and placed a hand on each of his thighs, as she continued to talk to him.

"I want you to concentrate on the places I touch. When you feel me press hard, I want you to scream out. I want you to tell the darkness to leave. Are you ready?"

Again he nodded. As she began to apply what looked to be like a great amount of pressure, her breathing started to become labored. There was no reason to remind him to scream as he cried out in pain from the pressure that she administered. Still pressing, she calmly reminded him to direct the darkness to leave, and he complied through his tears. And as she matched him tear for tear, she coaxed him to yell louder. Then abruptly, she pulled away, and extended her arms out to the still sobbing child. With great courage the boy reached out to her from his wheel chair, but she backed further away. After leaning forward as far as he could, he pushed his foot off the chair's footrest and unsuccessfully attempted a step. As he fell to the floor, several of the adults rushed to his rescue, but Orah yelled out. "NO!" Again she smiled as she looked down on the boy who lay crumpled on the ground and reached out towards him as she spoke.

"There is no more darkness inside of you. There is only the light, bright and strong. I know you can feel it."

Without taking his eyes off her, the child pulled himself up with the help of his wheelchair and clung to its side. Again, he moved towards Orah's hand, but this time his legs supported his body. His tears turned to laughter as he took one step then another. In a moment he was in her arms, and the excited crowd began to rush her. Immediately Nick and Schanke were at her side, but it was her own personal body guards that were prepared for this and did an admirable job at protecting her. As all this happened, one of Orah's crew moved to usher the boy and his Mother into a back room behind the stage. Suddenly the room became filled with the words and cries of those who pleaded to be next. The veil was once again placed over her face as she wearily leaned against one of her two body guards who guided her back to the stage and into her chair. With great interest, Nick continued to glance back as he and his partner pushed their way through the crowd and back to their original positions. When they arrived Schanke just starred at him with a huge smirk across his face.

"You're not falling for this hocus pocus Knight, are you? I saw a better magic act at Jenny's last birthday party."

"But you saw that, he walked!"

"Yeah, probably almost as good as he did before the show."

"You think this was all staged?"

"You don't? Come on Nick, you know she's got to have a few shills stationed in the group. She's got to make it look good or they wouldn't keep coming back with the big bucks."

"We still need to protect her."

"Yeah, but I think that we should be protecting these poor suckers from her. What a crock!"

Nick's eyes turned from Schanke as the room again began to darken, and both put themselves back on guard. As the following couple of hours impressively passed, Nick watched as one devastating disability after another was healed by Orah. It was quite a spectacular show as Nick counted five who could now walk, two who could now see, and even a disfiguring skin condition vanish before his eyes. But now after two non-stop hours, Orah fell exhausted to the floor. And although she begged her body guards to allow her to continue, she was helped up and the show was proclaimed over. The crowd's mood changed as those she did not get to, angrily demanded more time with her. Reluctantly, she pulled away, for it was clear to her that she had used up all of her physical and emotional strength during the performance. Ushers began to fill the aisles to direct the disappointed patrons towards the outside lobby where they could exit the building. Without losing Orah from his sight, Nick gestured for Schanke to follow him to where she was being moved to. As Orah and her entourage disappeared behind the curtains, the two detectives were close behind. As Nick pushed through the curtains to catch up with the departing group. a huge hand grabbed him by the front of his jacket. Effortlessly, Nick brushed the body guard off him and produced his badge.

"I'm Detective Knight and this is Detective Schanke of Metro homicide, and we have been assigned to protect Orah during her stay here in Toronto."

"Homicide? Aren't you guys being a little premature? They were only threats, no one has died here."

"Nevertheless, we have been assigned to make sure Orah stays safe."

"Well I don't know who called you guys, but we have the situation under control. It's not uncommon to get someone upset because they feel cheated that Orah didn't get to them. So we can handle it."

Pushing in front of his partner, Schanke spoke up.

"Listen, we have our orders, and until we hear differently from our Captain we are going to be sticking to you like glue. Comprende? So where are we going?"

Conceding that he was not going to win this battle, one of the guards hesitatingly answered.

"After the show, Orah needs to recover. We will take her back to the hotel."

Schanke smiled, "Fine, we'll give you a police escort."

It was now Nick's turn to intercede as the one guard seemed to ignore his partner's words and moved to leave without their protection. Handing the Caddy's keys to Schanke, Nick pushed past Orah and her small group.

"Schanke, why don't you bring the Caddy around the back here, and we will wait for you?"

Mumbling something only Nick could hear, Schanke turned towards the front of the room to retrieve the car as his partner had asked, and Nick turned his attention to the beautiful miracle worker. It had been the first time he had seen her close up, other than when the crowd had mobbed her after she had healed the small boy. And now in the more natural glow of the overhead lighting, her intense attractiveness made him feel as if he were in the presence of a goddess. She had remained silent since he had been back stage, as the decisions about who would be protecting her went on around her and were made by others. Listening to the strain of her heart, he could hear how diminished she had left herself from her performance, and he wondered how she had the will to stand. He had never witnessed another like her, and he fully understood why her name meant light. It was as if an aura of light encompassed and embraced her. Standing in awe of her power, he silently watched as her bodyguard helped with her coat. When they looked ready, he stepped outside first to check the alley before the other's exited. Feeling uncomfortable about this avenue of departure, he cautiously looked around. The area was dark except for the one bulb that burned over the back doorway, and Schanke was nowhere in sight. As he looked down the long alley way, the bodyguards who were anxious to leave, pushed past him and moved towards their parked limo. They moved as one into the alley, but froze as they heard the roar of a car's engine as a vehicle rushed towards them. The car had been covered with snow, and Nick and the guard who had been posted at the back door had assumed it to be empty when they had seen it at the far end of the alley. But now it screeched towards the three with increasing acceleration. With immortal speed, Nick slammed into Orah's group, and pushed her out of harm's way. The car screeched onto the main street just as Schanke was about to pull the Caddy into the alley. It was only Schanke's well judged reaction that prevented the speeding car from hitting him head on. Steering the car to the side and hitting the brakes, he stopped and ran to find his partner and the others sprawled across the snowy ground. Relieved to see them stir as he approached them, he arrived as Nick began to help Orah up. Moving her into a sitting position, she blankly stared at him as he gently shook her.

"Are you all right?"

There was no response to Nick's question as she transferred her stare to where he held her arms. Suddenly a violent shudder crossed over her, and she pushed his hands off her. Then stumbling up, she began to back away. Nick tried to reach for her, but she only stared at him in horror.

"I think she's going into shock Schank. Call the paramedics, I'll check on the others."

Warily, Orah continued to back away until her body was against the building on the other side of the alley. She then began to shake, but Nick could tell that she had not sustained any physical injuries so he turned to help the others. He could hear that one was in significant distress. Immediately he could see that one of her guards had already stood up and was brushing the dirt mixed with snow from himself, but the other remained unmoving. Rapidly, Nick went to him, then yelled over to Schanke.

"This one is badly hurt! Tell them to get here right away!"

Feeling a presence, he suddenly looked up. Orah had moved from the wall, and was now standing over him and the injured body guard. Carefully, she began to stoop down and run her fingers over her bodyguards damaged body. Her body swayed, and her eyes rolled back as she began to lose consciousness and her balance. Quickly, he reached over to stop her from falling.

"The paramedics are on their way. You need to rest. Let the professionals handle this."

Taking in a deep breath, Orah gathered as much strength as she could and tried to again heal her bodyguard. As she placed her hands on the guard's bleeding chest, she pleaded to Nick.

"Let me try to help him. He needs my help!"

With her words, she began to fall backwards, but Nick grasped her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. Then picking up the sound of her heart, he locked onto each of its beats as he spoke to her.

"You need to rest......Ahhhhhh......." A pain similar to being struck by lightning ripped through him exploding into their locked glance, and he was knocked over. Blinded, he clutched both eyes with his hands and rolled in the snow as the pain consumed him. Her gaze had burned him, and he screamed out as Orah collapsed unconscious to the ground. Taking in the whole scene, Schanke was overwhelmed, not knowing which way to turn first. A moment before, he had begun to move back to them, but now he reached for the police radio in Nick's car and demanded both police and medical back up. After hearing the dispatchers acknowledgment, he got to his partner just as he was beginning to recover from Orah's gaze. Helping him up, Schanke's voice was both frantic and concerned.

"Nick, what happened? I didn't think the car hit you."

Rubbing his sore eyes, he could see only large shapes as he tried to focus on his partner.

"No Schank, I was not hit. I do not know what happened. My eyes started to feel as if they were burning, but I'm fine now. I'm sorry I frightened you."

The paramedic's truck was the first to arrive, and both detectives were grateful to see it. Within a moment, several other emergency vehicles entered making the alley come to life with their colored flashing lights that simultaneously bounced reflections from building to building. After regaining most of his sight, Nick moved over towards where the paramedics were assisting Orah. As he looked down, he could see that she had fainted. But was she that way because of her physical state, or because of their shared glance just a few moments ago? Something powerful had taken place when he tried to enter her mind, something he had never before experienced. Her gaze burned him like the sun, and his hypnotic attempt weakened her into unconsciousness. Taking a step back, he watched as the medical team worked on Orah and her body guard. The team worked frantically, but the man's heart slowed then stopped. Several minutes went by as they shocked, pounded, and used drugs to get his heart to start, but it was to no avail. A hush filled the alley as dozens of officers stood and watched. Breaking the silence, one of the medical team called out to stop the resuscitation attempt and to call it. The next sound was the voice of the young medical assistant calling out the time. It was 10:37 PM.

Sadly Nick looked down, then over to the paramedic's truck where Orah had been moved and now lay. A strong reassuring pat on his shoulder, caused him to turn to see that his partner had moved next to him.

"Looks like this is a homicide case now."

Sighing, and with his eyes still inflamed, he shifted his gaze back to the strange but fascinating woman who was being prepared for the ambulance ride to the hospital. What had happened when he looked into her eyes? What had happened when he reached out and touched her soul? In all his years as a vampire, he had never felt such scorching temperatures from another's eyes. The enchanting beauty that now slept, was divine. He was sure of that. In her resided a spirit so holy, so pure, that his mere touch had sent her into convulsions. Somehow, he believed, that she had no idea of how extraordinary she really was, but it was clear to him. What he had heard must be true. It does take the dark to realize and appreciate the light. No one was filled with more darkness than himself, and she had been blessed with an unusual gift of purity of which he had never before encountered. How curious to meet ones opposite: how unique. The smartest thing for him to do right now would be to run and never face her again, but he could not do that. Maybe it was the fact that they were opposites that made him feel the attraction to be near her. Just like opposite poles on a magnet, he felt drawn to her. He needed to know more, to understand her and to have her understand him. Coming to his senses, he stopped all his wild thoughts from proceeding any further. What was he thinking? What madness was this? She would probably be unable to tolerate his presence. He already knew that she could not tolerate his touch. What did he want from her? He had no answer to that, but he knew that he could not just let this go. For some unknown reason, he would follow this through as far as it would take him. Was there anything to be gained by pursuing her? There had to be, but what? Maybe it was only his instincts telling him to follow this enchanting beauty. Whatever drove him now, it did not matter. This was as close to a religious experience that he had ever had, and this was right. Abruptly, he was startled back into reality as Schanke waved a hand in front of his face.

"Are you sure that you are okay?" Then he realized that Nick couldn't take his eyes off the alluring woman. "Don't worry about her, she is going to be fine. I spoke to medics, and they said that she is just stressed out and shaken up. Listen, I'm going to make sure that forensics gets down here ASAP. Why don't you ride with her to the hospital, and I'll meet you there later." He watched as his partner nodded, then decided that now would be a good time to ask. "Nick, did you catch the plate number of the car?"

"No, It happened too quickly. How about you?"

"It was all I could do to get out of the way from being the next victim. That maniac was headed straight for me. Then I had to make sure that all of you were not hurt. So I didn't go after him."

"You did the right thing Schanke."

"I hope Captain Cohen agrees with you. Man O Man, how are we going to explain this one? Her two detectives are witnesses to a murder, and neither can give a description of the car or the suspect. Cohen is going to blow a major artery or worse, blame us."

Rubbing his still burning eyes, he took a deep breath as he gazed into the darkened sky. The snow had slowed, and he let the last of the drifting flakes fall into his eyes. Its coolness helped to soothe his physical pain. In the background, he could hear that his partner had returned to the scene and was directing several officers about the proper procedure of securing a crime scene. If he were not so absorbed by what had just happened between Orah and himself, he would be trying to protect the young officers from Schanke's over dramatization and perfectionism. Tonight they would have to be on their own. Whatever this woman was, one person had already died because of her, and it looked as if the murderer had missed. Anyone that intent on killing was sure to try again. Any one that obsessed, would strike without regard of innocent bystanders. One thing was certain. Orah was a target. For all her goodness she had elicited another to murder. At his first opportunity, he would speak with her. If he guided her, she might recall something that would help them know what they are dealing with.

The paramedics began to prepare to leave, and Nick moved towards the closing door to stop it. With a quick flash of his badge, he jumped into the back of the truck and sat off to the side. He watched as the medic checked the various tubes that now led to Orah. Inside there was no sound aside from the beeping of the heart monitor and the medic's occasional movements to check the numbers on the machines. As she slept, he watched her breathe. It was as if he were watching an angel.

******

Both Roland and Janette landed outside the building that contained Nick's loft. Straightening her clothes from the flight, she felt the need to explain her actions to her older brother.

"Nichola prefers to receive his guests by way of the elevator instead of the sky light. We are going to be enough of a surprise as it is."

"Is he really that determined to become mortal again?"

Reaching up, she keyed in the proper sequence of numbers on Nick's security alarm, and pulled opened the door that led to the elevator in his building.

"He becomes more determined with each passing day. Very much like you used to be. I am so glad that you have given up that absurd pursuit."

Stepping into the elevator, Janette pushed the button for the loft, and the old machine creaked and groaned on its way to the top floor. Shifting his weight towards his sister, he leaned playfully against her.

"When did I mention that I had stopped pursuing mortality?"

Looking up, she stared at him in disbelief.

"It is not possible that after 1,200 years that you still regret the decision you made."

With a hurt expression, he pulled away from her.

"Oh Janette, you never could understand. You are truly your Father's daughter."

She searched his eyes, and although she found his desire incomprehensible, she realized that he was quite serious. How could it have been that she should fall in love with two who could not accept what they were? Trying to clear her mind, she turned her concentration back to exploring her senses, as the noisy lift began slowing to a stop. Discovering no sensation of her sibling through their link, she twisted to address Roland.

"I do not feel Nichola, he must already be gone for the night."

The elevator stopped with a sudden jolt, and he reached across to slide open the door for his sister. Afraid that she might not wish to remain and help him break the news of his existence to Nichola, he lovingly used his free hand to caress her cheek as he spoke to her.

"Let's go in and wait Janette. It is important that I meet with him."

Helping the door slide open, the sibling vampires walked into the loft that was lighted with only one candle, and that taper was being held by their Master, LaCroix. Leaning comfortably back into the dark leather chair, the master vampire slowly moved forward to replace the candlestick to the table along side him, then folded his hands across his lap.

Catching Janette as she stumbled from the surprise of LaCroix's unexpected appearance, Roland prudently smiled at his Father's penetrating glare. Not allowing himself to be intimidated, he spoke confidently.

"LaCroix! Why you haven't changed a bit in eight hundred years!"

Extending his hand for a nearby glass of blood, LaCroix thoughtfully took a sip then confidently returned the glass to its place. Contemplating his options, he shrewdly smiled.

"Roland, I am disappointed. You have been in town for almost a week now, and you never dropped by."

With that information, Janette's head snapped towards her brother, but his eyes were fixed on LaCroix. Frustrated, she spoke anyway.

"A week!"

Her words floated past him as he did not allow his concentration to be divided. Disregarding her reaction, he scrutinized his Father's every action. Desperately trying to secure his Master's sensations, he found himself to be unsuccessful. Then with a deceptively calm voice, LaCroix broke the silence.

"Give up Roland. You are not competent enough to penetrate my thoughts. You could not even feel that I was waiting for you just now. But where are my manners? Come, sit down."

"It has been a long time, LaCroix. Much too long to hold a grudge."

"A grudge? Now why would I harbor a grudge against you? Maybe for an ungrateful child who betrays his family then disappears for centuries without a word."

Watching the two of them beginning to rekindle their eternal battle, Janette stepped between them and angrily confronted her Father.

"You told me he was dead. Why was I not told? I have a right to know about my brother."

Her words broke the false peace that her Father was displaying, and he rapidly stood up with his voice rising.

"A right? You, like him, have only the rights that I give you! It is time for you to leave Janette. I do believe you have a night club to run? You do not need to become over tired, especially after not sleeping for half the day."

Hesitantly, she turned for reassurance from her brother.

"Roland.....?"

"Go Janette. I'll be fine. I knew when I arrived in Toronto that this encounter could not be avoided. Please let us talk in private. I'm sorry that I have involved you as much as I already have."

With controlled anger still in his voice, LaCroix directed his warning to his daughter.

"Yes. Go Janette. I will speak with you later."

Understanding his implied threat, she ignored it and continued to indignantly express her feelings.

"I will go, but I do not appreciate being left in the dark. After you talk Roland, please stop by the Raven."

As the elevator door closed, blocking Janette from their view, LaCroix motioned towards the sofa as he lowered himself back into his chair. Twelve hundred years of experience seemed to slip away from the vampire offspring as he moved to sit near his Master. Feeling like a fledgling again, he felt helpless as LaCroix held each of his thoughts and emotions in the palm of his hand. Deciding to remain quiet, he waited for his Master to make the first move. The waiting was uneasy as thousands of memories of mortal and vampire days rushed through his mind.

Seeing no reason to rush the excruciating silence, LaCroix sat back and allowed himself to enjoy the tension that the stillness generated. After several intensely agonizingly quiet moments, LaCroix sat forward and with his hardened glare spoke bitterly to his son.

"Our deal was that I would never hear from you again, or have you forgotten?"

Trying to soften the mood, Roland hoped that his Father might listen to reason.

"It has been almost eight hundred years, LaCroix"

Ignoring his son's attempt, his anger began to grow.

"I do not want you near Nicholas! I am being more than generous by not destroying you at this moment. How dare you go and see Janette behind my back?"

"Nothing escapes your knowledge, nothing is behind your back. It was only without your permission. You do not own me LaCroix!"

"I more than own you! I possess you... totally! You do not exist without my consent!"

Offended and infuriated, Roland stormed to his feet as he addressed his Master.

"I see that nothing has changed!"

With a calm yet commanding voice, LaCroix spoke so as to intimidate his son.

"Sit down Roland! We have more to discuss."

"You cannot stop me from meeting my brother!"

"If it were not for Janette waiting for you at the Raven, I would destroy you right now for going back on our deal. Now sit back down!"

Nervously, Roland re-found his position on Nick's black leather sofa while his Father took a few minutes to study his son and the situation.

"I'm afraid Roland that you have put me in a very awkward position with my children. Janette now believes that I have deceived her about you, and you even plan on fueling Nicholas's little obsession with your own inadequacies."

"So you know why I have returned at this time."

"I remember your dealings with the Mayans, and now the faith healer. You could not resist could you?"

"Nichola might be able to help me."

"Nicholas is a fool! You both are! I will not tolerate this whim. If you persist, you will die here! Something that I should have seen to a long time ago!"

"Why do you fear my meeting of Nichola? I thought you did not believe in a cure."

"I fear nothing! But you would be wise to fear me. Have you learned nothing since we parted ways?"

Feeling safer now, he spoke more confidently to his Father.

"As a matter of fact, I have learned quite a bit. I've been to many places, and learned a good deal about people. I've learned that things are not always as they seem, and you seem quite fearless. But that's not true is it? You are afraid. So afraid of losing another son that you feel powerless."

"You are treading on very fine ice, Roland. Your words are as foolish as your actions. Nicholas is not like you. You deceive yourself if you believe differently. You were a mistake, he was not!"

A smile formed across Roland's lips as he tried to hide his pain of his father's comment.

"Are you trying to hurt my feelings Father? I was your first."

"Yes, you were my first attempt at a family. Thankfully I improved with practice."

"Word games. Now I really should have known better than to tangle with the Master."

Rising to his feet, LaCroix glared down at his son.

"I do not play games, Roland, and I do not make idle threats. Leave Nicholas out of this, and never let me see your face again."

"But I can't leave Nichola out of this, you should know that. I will meet with my brother. In fact, I'm rather looking forward to seeing his reaction when he finds out about me."

"You are playing way out of your league. You may be old, but you are never too old for me."

Standing up, he confronted the elder vampire.

"Are you feeling threatened?"

Moving to within inches of his son's face, LaCroix's voice dropped to a harsh threatening whisper.

"If you harm Nicholas in any way, you will look back on the night I brought you across as one of your more pleasant memories. I *will* destroy you, have no doubt!"

There was no time for Roland to respond, the only sound in the loft was that of the displaced air as LaCroix departed through the skylight. As his eyes drifted away from the ceiling and back into the room, Roland took a long deep breath and released it slowly. An involuntary shudder swept across his body as he realized that he had survived his worst nightmare. He had persevered through an ambush attack from LaCroix, and lived to talk about it. A self-confident smile lit up his face, and he could not help but feel good about himself. This occasion definitely called for a drink. With a quick assessment of his new surroundings, he headed for the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he grinned at the selection of emerald bottles that huddled together on the top shelf. After turning a few and not finding their labels, he pulled out the closest one and located a glass. With the glass full of red liquid, he moved back to stand beneath the skylight to raise his glass towards the roof as if he were making a toast.

"This is for you old man. To the day that we meet again.....in hell!"

Bending his elbow, he brought the glass to his mouth, and in one rapid movement emptied it of its contents. His eyes opened wide as he swallowed, and his entire body quivered as he tried to spit out the rancid taste that caused him to gag.

"Oh, Oh...this is terrible! Oh Nichola, what did you do to deserve this punishment? Ohhhhh, I do not even think LaCroix would be so vindictive."

Going back to find the bottle, he cautiously sniffed at its contents. His features twisted to form a disgusted smile.

"Cow. I can't believe that anyone drinks this stuff. Well brother, it looks like this is going to be a lot easier than I thought."

After going to the sink to rinse the bad taste from his mouth, he moved back to the leather sofa, found the remote, and turned on the television.

"I better get comfortable. It looks like I missed you tonight Nichola, but I will be here waiting for you when you arrive home in the morning."

After playing with the remote for a few minutes, he did a visual search for the phone and found it on the table behind him. With the phone in one hand, he maneuvered his other hand deep into his pocket and pulled out a gold colored book of matches. As he waited for the operator to get on, he examined the black bird that decorated the cover. After a brief wait, the operator got on, and he began to speak.

"Yes operator. Would you find the number for a club called the Raven and connect that call for me too please?"

Humming as he waited for his call to be answered, he played with the matchbook. A loud female voice finally ended the phone's ringing sound. It was obvious that he had the right place as he listened to the music blasting in the background. Speaking at the top of his lungs, he slowly enunciated each word so that she would hear him through the clamor behind her.

"Would you please tell Janette that Roland wishes to speak with her?"

There was no verbal reply, there was only the sound of the receiver being placed on the counter. Following a few minutes of listening to the new age music, Janette anxiously picked up the phone and wanted to know how his meeting with LaCroix had gone. Dismissing the entire encounter as inconsequential, he instead made a point to request that she immediately have some of that fine vintage of hers sent to the loft. Although he joked with her about having some "real food" at Nick's place, she knew that the coming together of her Father and brother was not insignificant at all. But since he seemed alive and well, she told him that his order would arrive shortly and dropped the subject. As he hung up the telephone, he knew that his casual tone had not fooled his sister, but she had accepted it. And why shouldn't she? He had done well. In fact, everything except for LaCroix's unexpected visit seemed to be working out quite well. In hindsight, he realized that he should have anticipated LaCroix's social call more than he had. It would not happen again, not if he wished to remain alive. Damn, but LaCroix was good! Something that he had better never forget, or he would rapidly run out of next times.

******

A guard had been stationed outside of Orah's hospital room, yet Nick felt better being there. The angel had not stirred in the past six hours, and he could feel that the sun would be rising soon. After pacing the room all night, he was certain that he could have, without any trouble, found his way around with his eyes closed. Schanke had been by twice before he had told him that he was wrapping things up to go home. The first time he had been by was to inform him that forensics had finished up at the scene, and the second time was to tell him that Captain Cohen was out for their blood. There was panic in his voice when he related her message of their badges not being worth the metal they were stamped on if anything happened to this woman while under their protection. And she was correct to be upset with them. They had been there, yet they had nothing to go on. From what Schanke had told them, forensics had a nice set of tire track prints from the snow, but almost half the cars in Toronto matched the description. There were no footprints, which meant that the perpetrator waited in the car, maybe for hours for the right time to strike. The murderer had known how Orah would leave. Of course knowing that information did not take a genius. There were only two ways out of the building, and the presence of a long black limousine parked by the back door was no different than posting a sign stating "Here I am!" Throwing a concerned glance at the sleeping woman, he sighed. Orah's whereabouts were certainly no secret, with every newspaper and television station covering her arrival and performance times. Frustrated, he paced the room once more. A man had been killed before his eyes, and he had no information that would help them apprehend anyone. Feeling powerless, he knew that there was nothing he could do now but protect her and wait for this killer to strike again. He would strike again, and whether he liked it or not, Orah was the bait. Hopefully, they would be able to anticipate the killer's next move before it would be too late for her. After a quick glance at his watch, he looked out the window onto the lightening horizon. The sky did look lighter in color, but then the snow had made everything look brighter. As he watched the subtle shades of darkness gradually transforming themselves into dawn, the stillness from within the room was shattered. Gasping for air, Orah sat straight up in her bed as Nick raced towards her. Unsteadily, she tried to escape the bed, but Nick prevented her from leaving the bed's safety. As he held her back from jumping down, she screamed out.

"SETH! OH MY G-D, SETH IS DEAD!"

Having a difficult time holding her without hurting her, he was relieved to see the guard from outside the door crash into the room followed by several nurses and a doctor. Her violent reaction had set off all of the monitoring devices. Looking into Nick's eyes, she screamed again at his touch, and he pulled away to let the doctor near. Two nurses on each side helped to hold her and lay her back down as the doctor administered more of the sedation. Trembling, she stared in wild eyed terror at Nick who had backed away to the far end of the room. As the nurses tried to wipe away the excess perspiration from her forehead, she continued to scream and point towards him.

"WHAT ARE YOU? ARE YOU REAL? ARE YOU A NIGHTMARE?"

Wishing he could disappear, Nick managed to back further against the wall. Seeing the detective's reaction, the Doctor turned to him.

"Please, don't let her upset you. It is all the medications that are in her that are causing these delusions."

Feeling uneasy, he nodded that he had heard the Doctor. But he knew that she could see him for what he was. There was no hiding from her, he was transparent. Through the heavy medication, she managed to sit up and push the nurses to the side so she could see Nick clearly. As the medical staff moved to force her back down again, she reached out to the tense detective.

"You! Tell me. Is Seth dead? I can feel a presence, but it is not of this earth. I know you will tell me the truth."

Moving slowly towards her, he took a few cautious steps and looked her in the eyes.

"Seth Barrett, your body guard died at the scene. I'm sorry."

Calming down, after his words, she studied him for a few seconds then softly spoke to him.

"You tried to save us all...........thank you."

Allowing the nurses to help her, she relaxed into their arms and fell into a drug induced sleep. Gingerly pulling away from his patient, the doctor stopped in front of Nick.

"She is going to sleep for most of the morning. You will have to come by later to talk with her."

As the doctor and the medical team left the room, Nick once more glanced out the window. He had to agree with the doctor, now was not the time to get his answers. The sun would rise soon. Now was the time to go home and get some sleep. There was only twenty minutes of the night that remained. Flying would get him home fastest. Anyway, Schanke still had the Caddy with him. After leaving instructions with the guard, he took the elevator down to the Hospital's lobby and walked until he found the service exit. Finding himself in a small outdoor storage area, he looked around and was in the sky before the door had time to close behind him.

******

The noise of the elevator grinding its way towards the loft, startled Roland awake. Immediately, his gaze took in his surroundings, as he tried to refresh his memory as to where he was. In an instant, he realized that he must have fallen asleep while waiting for his brother's return. It felt strange to rise with so much of the daylight hours still ahead, but his body quivered from the vibrations of one of his kind that was close in blood approaching. With no difficulty, he shut off any vibrations that would make his presence known. He knew that the termination of his link would make his presence a complete surprise to his sibling. In the centuries that he had spent with LaCroix, he had learned many valuable lessons, but the ability to block another of his own kind was particularly beneficial many times. Even one as close as Nichola would not know of his presence unless he willed it. It was a talent that LaCroix had never taught his other children, and he was certain that his Father damned the day that he had shared this with him. In all of his Master's zest for a son, he became careless and gave too much away. It was a mistake that he never again repeated. A smile crossed his dark rugged features, as he mulled over the idea of how close LaCroix had come to allowing his first son to become almost as powerful as himself. Yes, he would have to stay alive if for no other reason than to be a thorn in his Father's side. Snapping his thoughts back to the present, he scolded himself for letting his mind wander so. There were more pressing issues to attend to, and he could not allow himself to indulge in frivolous daydreams. This was going to be quite a shock for Nichola, too bad Janette could not be here to soften the blow. There was talk that she could handle her brother in any situation, but then she could handle most men. When they had been together, he had wondered if she had ever needed to use her hypnotic skills to bring her male victims into her snare of death. Most likely she had only to glance at them, and they willingly surrendered all of their life blood. Unfortunately, she was not around now to buffer this situation, and it was about to erupt.

Standing up from the sofa, he took a few steps and positioned himself in front of the fireplace. Remaining with one arm leaning against the wooden mantle, he took in a short breath knowing that this would be his brother's first vision of him. The door slid noisily open, and the two brother's instantly made direct eye contact. While Roland broadly grinned, Nick's police instincts kicked in and as naturally as mortals breathe, he whipped out his gun. With a steady outstretched arm, he aimed it at the unexpected intruder. Rolling his eyes, Roland shook his head and sighed.

"Is this any way to greet your relatives Nichola?"

Scrutinizing the strangers every movement, Nick slowly moved towards him.

"Keep your hands where I can see them!"

The words caused Roland to smile again. This mortal game of cops and robbers was sort of fun.

"This is quite unnecessary, Nichola. I really am related to you."

"I do not know who you are. I have no relatives. Now turn around and face the wall!"

Moving close to his brother, he twisted him around and began to search him for weapons. With his face now pressed against the mantle, Roland was beginning to lose interest in continuing this amusement. Uncomfortable with the treatment, he tried to speak with his mouth squeezed against the wood.

"I know what the problem is." With a quick conscious effort, he allowed the vibrations of the vampire to resurface. Trying to see Nick's reaction out of the side of his eye, he addressed him again. "How's that? Now do you believe me?"

Stumbling backwards from the rush of the sensation, Nicholas began to step back and let his vampire nature take over. With glowing eyes and protruding fangs, his words became mixed with growls.

"If you came for trouble, you will not be disappointed! I have no desire for your kind here."

Turning to face his brother, Roland looked stunned.

"My kind? Why aren't we the same kind? You are a vampire Nichola are you not, or am I mistaken?"

"I am different than the others. I have denounced the evil. Isn't that why you have come?"

"Oh, now you believe me to be one of those nasty little enforcers. I think I should feel offended."

"Then what do you want?"

"You reacted too quickly, Nichola. I cannot tell you how disappointed I am in how lacking LaCroix's education of my siblings has been. Try again to feel the vibration."

"Siblings? Are you one of LaCroix's creations?"

"Oh, I guess I let that information slip, and I so wanted to see if you could feel our bond." Watching his brother with his gun still tensely pointed at him, he motioned towards the sofa. "Do you think that we could sit down and talk or do you feel more secure holding that gun on me?"

Relaxing his arm, Nick slid the gun back into its holder under his jacket. Glancing skeptically at Roland, he pushed the vampire down, and took a long hard look at the uninvited person before him. After allowing a moment to pass, Roland moved to sit down then gestured for Nick to join him.

"I'm afraid that I have you at a disadvantage brother. I know much about you, but you did not even know I existed until moments ago. If you do not believe that I am who I say I am, then why don't you give our sister Janette a call down there at the Raven?"

"You know Janette?"

"Yes, I know Janette. In fact, I *knew* Janette almost two hundred years before you joined our family."

Stepping closer, Nick still stared at him.

"I know of LaCroix's children. Why is it that I never knew of you?"

"It is as they say, a long story. Please, sit down, you are making me nervous by standing there." Thoughtfully, Nick rubbed his chin as he took the remaining steps to the sofa, but he did not sit down. Roland smiled up at him.

"Still do not trust me brother? Well I guess that is to be expected. Let me introduce myself. I am called Roland, and I was brought across by LaCroix in 846. In my short mortal life, I was a warrior and a nobleman. My only love died a natural mortal death with no memory of my existence. Since then, I have been many things and have covered the Earth several times. My first almost four hundred years as a vampire were spent with my Father. Later we were joined by the beautiful and enchanting Janette. You, my dear brother, became a family member after I moved on."

Listening in amazement at this vampire's open and honest summary of his life, Nick finally sat down as he tried to make sense of all the developments that were now in his life. He watched as his brother reached over to the bottle that stood on the table and poured himself a drink. Feeling his brother's eyes, Roland held up the full glass towards Nick.

"You don't mind if I drink do you? I had Janette send over something a little more robust than what I found in your refrigerator. You don't really drink that stuff do you?"

"It's cow's blood."

"Tastes like poison. I'm afraid I would rather starve to death then drink that. But I am just dying to know why you have it stored away in there. Please tell me that you don't drink it."

"You would not understand."

"Oh my, you do drink it. You don't like it do you? You're not one of them are you?"

"A carouche? No, I have my own reasons."

"Thank goodness! I'm not sure how I could handle having a family member who was.........well you know."

Starting to feel impatient about why this vampire who claimed to be his brother was sitting comfortably drinking human blood in his living room, Nick decided that he had better things to do then to listen to his ramblings. It was interesting to meet the family member, but it was getting late. The sun was out, and he was tired. Trying to be polite, he smiled patronizingly at Roland.

"Roland, is it? This little family reunion has been interesting, but I have to work tonight and I need my sleep."

"Yes, your work. You're a detective now. What was it before that? A teacher. Or was that an archeologist? You have been quite diverse over the last hundred years. It has been difficult keeping up."

"You have been keeping tabs on me for that long, but only now you decide to reveal yourself?"

"Longer actually, and not just you, LaCroix and Janette as well. And then there has been my work to take care of as well."

"And what work is that?"

"So many positions I have held over the centuries, but in every case I never strayed too far from any Country's leader. I have always been the closest confidant in every political government that has risen or fallen since .....well since you came across. I have always been the closest to the king, monarch, president, prime minister, or whatever title they choose to refer to themselves."

"You work as a mortal, why?"

"Because I enjoy it. Why do you?"

"I need to try and give back to humanity all that I have taken, and it also reminds me of my lost mortality that I wish to reclaim."

"Ha! I'm surprised that you are still alive. Ha, Ha! How is it that LaCroix has not done away with you? I'm sorry that I find this so amusing. I really shouldn't be laughing. I already knew of this quest of yours. It's just that the thought of LaCroix with two sons that desire the same thing..... It must be killing him. I'm surprised that he hasn't spontaneously combusted just out of the frustration. This is great! This is too rich!"

"Two sons? You have this desire as well?"

"For more years than you have been alive. Well not alive, dead. No, not that either. You know, been a vampire."

"LaCroix sent you here didn't he? You can just go back and tell him that it didn't work. Whatever it is that you were to tell me, I have no interest."

"You want me to go to LaCroix? Do you think I have a death wish? Why do you think I have been away so long? Anyway, LaCroix was already here earlier, and he would like nothing more than if the two of us would never have met. I'm afraid that Daddy dearest thinks that I may be a bad influence on my baby brother. I am here under threats of death by him."

"Why should I believe you?"

Throwing his head back against the sofa, he stared at the ceiling and sighed. "Ask yourself why you never knew of me. Why in your almost eight hundred years has there been no mention of me? Why has my name not been on my Father's lips? And why has he erased all memory of me?"

As Roland sat back up to receive his brother's responses to his questions, he went to pour another glass of blood. After thinking for a few moments, Nick looked over to his brother.

"Even if what you say is true, it still does not explain why you are here now?"

"I see your point. Would you believe that I'm here out of brotherly love? No huh? It was worth a shot." Nick watched as his brother stood up then crossed the room. He stared at him as he showed tremendous interest in his artifact collection, picking up several of the priceless pieces. Finally after replacing all but one piece, he looked over to Nick.

"You know you have some very valuable pieces here. Who would have known that all those ordinary everyday things that I used would have such value one day? I never bothered to save anything, too much of a burden. Anyway, I always liked starting new each time I moved on."

Now feeling extremely uncomfortable, Nick glared at Roland as he again began to pick up each of the ancient artifacts that he had painstakingly gathered throughout time. With his uneasiness increasing by the second, he stiffened as Roland scrutinized each item. It felt like he was being searched, he felt like his privacy was being violated, until the last of his handling of the objects was done and Roland walked towards him.

"No Nichola, unlike you I really never was much of a collector, but I did keep a few things along the way. And you know, I thought that you had something very similar to what I saved, but I don't see it." Reaching into a side pocket, Roland produced a jade cup that Nick easily recognized. Rising angrily to his feet, he approached his brother with fire in his eyes.

"You stole the jade cup!"

Thinking briefly about his brother's words, he nodded.

"Yes. I guess you can say that. But I do believe that the statute of limitations has run out. In any event, there are not any more Mayans to press charges."

"It was at the Royal Museum."

"Really? Well I seriously doubt that. I have had this cup close to me since the 900's. So they have one too? I wonder how many of these cups are floating around. All these copies are bound to bring down its value. So Nichola, where is yours?"

"I do not have it. I donated mine to the Museum after their cup was destroyed by LaCroix"

"LaCroix destroyed the Museum's Mayan cup? Now that is fascinating. I guess he didn't know that I know the whereabouts of several others. So, it looks like he believes that there may be something to this cure after all."

"You know about the cure?"

"Know about it? Know about the cure? Please Nichola, I was there and witnessed it work."

"It worked? The cure? You saw it work? You saw a vampire become mortal again?"

"Yes, it was done often then, but it required a special ceremony."

"You saw one of us become mortal? Are you certain?"

"I saw it on several occasions, with my own eyes. LaCroix saw it too, even though he dismissed it as a fraud."

"So you are here to get the cup that I gave to the Museum, and with our two cups we can be mortal."

Turning away from Nick, he took a few steps then turned back to look at him.

"Did I mention the ceremony? There was this part about the drinking of the sacrificed person's blood. You are aware of that part too, right?"

"Yes, I learned a great deal as an archeologist on the Mayan dig. I'll get the cup back and we will use the two cups."

Getting excited as well, Roland began to plan out loud.

"We will have to perform the ceremony. I can do that. I remember exactly what they did."

Moving up to Roland, Nicholas took the jade cup from his hands and began to run his fingers over its cold stone surface. Looking up at his brother, he smiled.

"Roland, I am sorry that I was so uncomfortable about you being here. I just cannot believe that after all this time that you can just walk in here with the cure. It is that simple!"

"Simple? No, not simple. It took all this time to recreate all the proper ingredients."

"What do you mean? We have both cups now, so just say whatever their magic words were and we will drink from the cups."

Roland gently tugged the cup from Nick's grasp, and placed it back in his pocket as he crossed the room. Confused, Nick's eyes followed him. Then suddenly Roland spun to face him.

"Yes, we have the cups, but I have always known where I can find more cups. Think Nichola, if I had known that you had a cup then why did I not come sooner?"

"It was out of fear for LaCroix."

"No, the time was not right, until now. If we work together, we will be mortal again."

"I do not understand."

"How much do you know about this cure? Only bits and pieces of what you found that lay buried in the ground for centuries? There was more than merely drinking from the cups, there was so much more! Are you certain that you are ready for this cure?"

"I have not been more certain of anything. What else is involved in this cure?"

"As you are most likely already aware, the Mayans were quite a paganistic group. They had sacrifices and blood rituals for everything. They knew of our existence, in fact many of them were like us. It was not uncommon for family members to switch from mortal to vampire then back again, regularly, depending on their needs. When they needed to be immortal, such as during battle, they became the vampire. When they needed to be in the light or to reproduce, they became mortal. The system worked very well for a long time."

"It was common practice for them to switch from mortality to immortality?"

"Depending on their needs. The practice fell out of favor when the ratio of vampire to mortal became too high, and they practically destroyed themselves with the bloodlust. Too many vampires, not enough blood."

"But you know how to use the cure. Why didn't you use it? Why didn't you come sooner?"

"It was not time, and you were not ready."

"Ready? I am more than ready."

"That remains to be seen."

"I told you that I will retrieve the cup. What more is there to this cure?"

Slowly, Roland headed for Nick and placed his hand on his shoulder as his eyes searched deeply into his brother's soul.

"You and I Nichola, must be joined in this venture. In order for this to work, there must be two who are brothers of the same blood. We are both of LaCroix's blood. We will have to drink alternately from the jade cups."

"I did not know that it would take another to erase this curse."

"Yes, it is only done in pairs of men. There was a different practice for the women, but women were rarely chosen to become immortal then."

"Why did you not come to me sooner?"

"Be patient brother, there is still more. The reason for the wait has to do with the sacrificed victim's blood. The victim must die in the way prescribed by the elders. They must die from a single silver dagger to the heart. It is the blood from the heart wound that is used, and most importantly this blood must be from one of special holiness. The blood must be that of a healer, a true healer. In those days there were many, but since then there has only been one. And this is why I come to you now."

Turning away, Nick moved back to the sofa feeling drained of all hope. Looking up at his brother, he spoke in disbelief.

"The blood of a healer, a faith healer. You want to kill Orah so that we may be mortal."

Moving to sit across from him, he tried to convince him of his sincerity.

"I'm afraid it is the only way brother. You do understand, don't you? I could not return to my mortality then because I did not have a brother of similar blood, and I had to wait until now for one of such faith to arrive."

"You must be wrong. I cannot gain my mortality by taking another mortal life."

"Then you and I cannot ever regain what we once cherished."

Looking down at the floor, he shook his head and tried to clear his mind then looked up and stared at his new-found brother. There were no words right at this minute, only a blizzard of thoughts and images that made no sense. This was too painful to be true. How could the only chance to be mortal again come with such human cost? This had to be one of LaCroix's cruel lessons to him. Abruptly, Roland broke into his thoughts.

"I see Nichola that you are having trouble with this cure. I have spent many centuries waiting for this one of faith to walk the Earth. You have only had a short time to assimilate all of this. A new brother and a cure all at once. I know that you are reasonable, and that you will come to the same conclusion that I have. Orah is our only way out of this existence. She was born to help, and this is how she will help us."

"I still do not know that LaCroix is behind this. He has had me kill innocents before."

"I don't know how to convince you. I can only imagine how difficult your life has been with LaCroix. Your experiences with him in the past are even now creating obstacles to our freedom."

"How could I take another life? How could I live with myself?"

"Think about it. We are talking about one life. This life will return us to a life we should never had been taken from. This one sacrificed life will end any chance of future vampire killings. To exchange one life for thousands of potential victims. How many less victims would there have been had we been able to do this sooner? How can you turn away?"

Rubbing his eyes and his head, he looked to the other side of the room and stared into space.

"I'm not. I have to get some rest. I have to think."

"Don't take too long. LaCroix is already making plans for my funeral. I'll be at the Raven if you need to talk."

Standing up, he moved towards the door, but Nick moved to stop him.

"You cannot leave now, it is daylight."

"I'll be fine, Nichola. I just will never get over how much LaCroix left out in his teaching of you. I'll be at the Raven." As he got to the opened elevator, he turned back to Nick.

"Oh, don't worry about the other jade cup. It is as good as in our hands already."

The door crashed closed blocking Roland from his sight, and he moved back to the sofa. After eight hundred years, he had thought that nothing could stun him like this. That Roland was his brother, that was a shock, but it was believable. LaCroix would go through bouts in which he would add another to the family. Roland had said that he had been LaCroix's son nearly four hundred years before him. That meant that even Janette had known him for two hundred years. Why had his brother been kept a secret from him? How did he get away from LaCroix? They would need to speak again, and if Roland was telling the truth he would be in tremendous danger from their Master. He could not stop the thought of a cure from pushing back into his thoughts, even now as he tried to not think about it. But the doubt kept nagging at him. What if all that Roland said was true? What if they must kill to regain their mortality? NO! It cannot be this way. It did not make sense, but then what of the Mayan culture made sense? If Roland had actually been there and had witnessed this ritual, then there may be truth to what he said. The excitement of being so close to a cure began to build inside of him. But then just as abruptly, he pushed those thoughts away. How could he ever consider performing such a ritual? He had to forget this. How could he be responsible for protecting the only person he needed to kill? He would have to talk to Captain Cohen about putting someone else on this case. Sunset would be at 5:50 PM tonight, if he could get some sleep now, he would have time before work to talk to Natalie about this cure and to Captain Cohen about reassignment. Getting up, he rubbed at his eyes and began to climb the stairs to his bedroom. Why must everything be so complicated? As far into the future as he could see, there was no peace for him. Mechanically, he changed into his black pajamas, and fell exhausted into bed. As he lay still in the darkened room, he stared up at the ceiling. He tried to block out the pain of yet another obstacle to achieving his goal, but all he could feel was a deep sense of loss. Just another chapter of emptiness to add to his long and lonely life's story. All his desire to be mortal again would be in vain, for such an attempt could never be. Allowing the agony of this dilemma to fade, he tried to relax and listen to the silence that occupied his empty loft. Then closing his eyes, all sounds gradually disappeared as he drifted into the voiceless murmur of the sleep of the undead. The only place where he could sometimes escape from such heart wrenching decisions.

******

The ringing of the alarm clock startled him awake, and he sluggishly crawled out of bed. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, it was obvious that the seven short hours of sleep had not been nearly enough with all that had been going on in his life. Finding his clothes to dress, a sudden familiar wave of vibrations penetrated his body, and he knew that he was not alone. An unexplainable strange feeling of impending doom rushed his sensations, and he used all his powers to tear towards the bedroom's closed door. In his haste to plunge forward, the door was almost pulled from its hinges as it wildly swung open and hit the wall. In time only used to measure the speed of sound, he found himself at the rail overlooking the downstairs living quarters. The view of what lay beneath him, paralyzed him with horror. Not even a breath was taken as he overlooked his brother Roland standing over Orah who was securely tied to his kitchen table. He watched as Roland raised a shimmering silver dagger high above his head then look up towards him with eyes that flickered with red sparks. Then opening his mouth wide to reveal a fierce fanged smile, Roland swayed and chanted in a language that was foreign from all of his eight hundred years. A soft moan from the captive faith healer, and his eyes swiftly shifted from his brother to Orah's face. Looking at her, he could see that there was no fear in her eyes. Listening to the only mortal heartbeat in the room, he knew that she was at peace with her fate. The chanting took on a high pitch tone, and Roland slipped two jade cups onto the table close to Orah's head. Desperately, he tried to stop the barbaric ritual by calling out, but his voice and his movements were equally immobile. Fighting the overwhelming loss of control, he felt as if all of time swirled around him. Had he been drugged so as not to interfere? Trying to steady himself, he focused on Roland and Orah beneath him. Their images separated and became two before his eyes. As he tried to blink away the doubled image, they divided again and became four. With each blink, they reproduced themselves until dozens of copies of the two all turned before him as if they were held captive inside a kaleidoscope. With all the strength he could gather, he closed his eyes and thrust himself towards the stairs. Successful in reaching his destination, he felt himself begin to tumble down in slow motion as only the floor below stopped the force of the fall. The downward spill broke the spell that had him incapable of movement, and he weakly stood up and re-opened his eyes. Trying to focus, his eyes began to cloud over as his gaze once again located the spot of the ancient ritual. He was too late. Roland had already plunged the dagger into the middle of her heart, and was collecting blood from the oozing wound. Hesitatingly, his eyes moved up the beauty's body and rested on her face. Her death stare had frozen wide open reflecting the shock of the knife that had pierced her heart. In an instant, his brother began to walk towards him with two full cups of the healer's blood. As he cautiously glided towards Nicholas, he carefully tried to not spill the magical liquid. Smiling confidently, Roland stood before his brother and with a satisfied smile, he raised the first of the cups to his lips. Drinking until the cup was half emptied, he handed the remainder to Nick.

"Drink, it's all you have to do. Drink, and you shall finally be free!"

Pushing the cup away, he looked away in disgust.

"I can't! Not this way!"

Lifting off the ground, he rapidly landed and confronted Nick with his voice filled with bitterness.

"Then she dies without reason. Is that what you want? Is that what she would have wanted?"

Cringing from the scent of her blood so tantalizingly nearby, he again declined the offer.

"I can't be a part of this."

"It's too late for that Nichola. You are already a part of this. Now drink this and then we will be what nature had intended us to be."

As Roland extending the hand that held the jade cup, Nick could easily smell the scent of Orah's blood and it ensnared him. Feeling compelled, Nick reached for the half full cup. The liquid sloshed in the cup as he brought the still warm fluid to his lips and swallowed. A rush of goodness and all that is holy flooded his body. This was the answer. This was the cure. Roland had been correct, and it was so easy. Greedily, he finished the first cup and reached for the second. This would be the cup that would seal his mortality. Excitedly Roland relinquished the second cup and watched his brother move to consume the first half and then pass it back to him. As he waited for his turn to drink, both of the vampire siblings were interrupted by the sound of breaking glass as their Master tore through a closed window. With his jaw clenched and his eyes glowing, LaCroix angrily demanded the cup that his son Nicholas held. He moved towards both of them but spoke only to Nicholas.

"Nicholas, give me the cup!"

"Why LaCroix? Are you afraid it may work? Are you fearful that there may be something more powerful than yourself?"

"I will not ask again, Nicholas!"

Raising the cup in a gesture to drink, he ignored his Father's demands.

"No! Not this time LaCroix! This time you will not win!"

"You are so mistaken Nicholas! You will pay dearly for this act of defiance. I will deal with you after I take care of some old business."

Faster than Nicholas thought possible, LaCroix produced a wooden stake and threw it hard at Roland. The wooden weapon struck the vampire with tremendous force through the heart and pinned him to the wall several feet away. The horrible screams of Roland's death cries filled the loft, and Nick looked down onto the full cup of Orah's blood that he still held. It was useless without his brother, and LaCroix knew that. The brother that he had barely known then vanished before his eyes, taking with him all hopes for a cure. Before he could look up again, LaCroix turned his attention to him and was upon him. With unnatural strength, his Father pinned him to the wall that his brother had just died against. He offered no resistance, knowing that within moments that he would most likely die from the same wooden stake that had destroyed Roland. Feeling as if every bone had been shattered from the force in which LaCroix had thrown him against the plaster, his Master held him up securely keeping him from sliding down the wall. Gasping for air, he only silently prayed that the death blow would come quickly and end his suffering. But the stake was not what was produced by LaCroix. Instead his Father's other hand held up the blood filled jade cup. The same jade cup that but a moment ago had held his chance for a new life was now in LaCroix's hand. The elder vampire pushed the jade cup hard into his son's mouth, then picked its bottom end up and poured the now cold blood down his throat. Glaring at his son, he poured fast so as to choke him.

"DRINK! This is what you wanted! DRINK IT THEN!"

As Nicholas gurgled and gagged on the blood, his Father held it tightly against his face and made sure that every drop was finished. Seeing that the cup was empty, he threw it powerfully across the room. Then turning back to his son, he firmly grabbed him and threw him against the same wall as the now shattered cup. With little strength, Nicholas looked up from the bottom of the wall where he had managed to sit himself up, and saw his master approaching again.

"Kill me already LaCroix! Just be done with it."

"No Nicholas. You are not getting away that easily. You are mine, and you shall always be mine."

Lifting his son from the ground with one hand, he threw him against the wall and held him up by his neck. Blood poured profusely from Nick's face as LaCroix's flaming red eyes glared at him.

"You think that you are suffering now Nicholas? This is only the beginning!"

With a start, Nick sat straight up in bed, and reached up to touch the beads of bloodsweat that had accumulated on his forehead during his nightmare. Catching his breath, he reached over to pick up the clock. It was only 4:30 PM, but he was not taking any chances by going back to sleep. It was time to get up and work this all out before things got out of hand. Maybe Natalie would be able to offer an objective perspective on this possible cure.

******

After several attempts to catch Natalie at home, Nick had finally been able to track her down at the Morgue. She had explained to him that it had been one of those days when she couldn't sleep while thinking about all the work she wanted to complete. So after tossing and turning, she had given up on sleep and had come in early. By the time he had arrived at the lab, she had already changed into scrubs and was well into the autopsy procedure. Standing in the opened doorway, he watched her work. It still amazed him how she was able to be so distant from her work. Rarely did she let her emotions get in the way, even though she knew that each person that went through her Morgue had until recently been an active alive individual. She was able to distance herself, and always complete her work professionally. Leaning against the doorpost, he only saw her and none of the gruesome detailed work that she performed. Smiling, he watched as her soft brown curls tried to escape from under the surgical cap that she wore. He loved listening to the sound of her voice as she recorded details of the autopsy into a tape recorder. Her voice soothed and relaxed him as he waited for her to notice him.

Without missing a beat, she turned suddenly and acknowledged him with a nod. It was obvious that she had been aware of his presence for some time, and he again smiled at her subtle attempt at teasing.

"How long did you know I was here?"

"Not too long. I didn't want to disturb you. You seemed lost in thought."

Stepping into the room, he began to move close to her.

"No I was only admiring the view."

Smiling, she graciously accepted his compliment, as she pulled off her cap and gloves. As he stepped close, she pulled back the sheet to reveal the body on the table.

"Is this the victim from the hit and run last night?"

Taking on a professional tone Natalie answered.

"Yes. Mr. Seth Barrett. Personal body guard to Orah. C.O.D. was from massive hemorrhages as a result of being hit by a large blunt instrument. In other words, he was killed when the car struck him."

"I guess there is nothing else?"

"Well, not from me. but I heard from forensics. The car that hit him was found abandoned. They were able to find pieces of skin, hair, and blood from the victim under the front tire. It's definitely a match."

"Did they say who the car was licensed to? Or was it stolen?"

"The only thing that I heard was that it was a rental car, but I know that Schanke was going to look into it. You really didn't see anything Nick?"

"No."

"Too bad. There is not much else to go on and that killer is still out there and probably not too happy that he killed the wrong person."

"I know."

Seeing how depressed he looked about the poor prospects of a swift apprehension of this suspect, she changed the subject.

"So, how is Orah doing? I heard you stayed at the hospital all night."

"She slept most of the time, but she did wake up once. Nat, she knows about me."

"How could she?"

"I don't know, but she was hysterical when she looked at me. She could see right through me. She could see the evil."

"Nick, that's not possible. You only believe that because you want to believe in her powers. But people do not have powers like that. She only acted hysterically because of everything she had just been through."

"You were not there. You did not see how she reacted."

"Nick, she is only a person, just like the rest of us. She cannot make the crippled walk, the blind see, and she cannot see the vampire."

"You are wrong Nat. I saw her do all those things."

"It was an act Nick! That is her job. To make you and everyone else believe in her."

"I saw her put her hands on a boy's legs and then he walked to her. It was no trick."

"Really, and how do you know that? Of course it was a trick. One of the oldest tricks in the book, but shouldn't you be the one telling me this? Nick, you have been around for quite some time. Don't you recognize a scam when you see it?"

"She is the real thing. I know it, and she could be the key to my quest for mortality."

"What? Do you think that she can place her hands on you and make you mortal? If you believe that, then why have I been spending years searching for a real cure? I should just go to the local magic shop and purchase a black hat to pull a cure out of."

"She can cure me, but not by the placing of hands. I need her blood. I need her to die."

Feeling all her emotions begin to drain from the astonishment of his words, she shook her head. The thought that he would even play with such an idea made her sick.

"So what are you going to do? You are supposed to be protecting her, but instead you are going to take her blood and kill her. Why didn't I understand this before? The way to your humanity is to kill! You know Nick, I have really been on the wrong track. I'm sorry that I wasted all your time."

Watching her turn away, he realized how hurt she was. Circling her waist with his arm, he turned her towards him and drew her near. Softly, he whispered to her.

"I'm not going to kill her Nat. I cannot. But I do believe her blood can cure me. Nat, could what her blood contains be a cure for vampirism? Do not just answer no, think about it. Is there anything that could alter this condition that might be found in her blood?"

Pulling slightly away, she looked up at him.

"Oh Nick, you are grasping at straws. Why do you believe this?"

"Remember the jade cup from the Museum? It is her blood that must go inside."

"That's right. You really do believe in that ancient cure. But you only had one cup, I thought you needed two."

"I know where there exists another cup, but they must contain the blood of a special holy person and Orah is that person. Could this be a real cure?"

"No Nick. You are trying to make something where there is nothing. There is no magic in mixing jade and blood, and I doubt that there is anything different in her blood's chemical composition. I'm sorry Nick. I can't tell you what you want to hear. You are chasing rainbows."

Pulling away from her, he briefly closed his eyes and felt what little he imagined was left of his soul tear apart.

"Forever chasing rainbows, maybe that is part of this curse too."

Sadly looking down at the floor, he turned and headed for the door. He heard her voice trying to call him, but he did not have the desire to look back. Maybe there was no cure, no answers. Maybe coming to terms with the fact that there was no way out was the answer. Why must there exist a solution to every problem? After all this time searching, maybe the answer simply was that there is no answer. No, he couldn't believe that, at least not yet. Giving up hope would be what LaCroix would want. He could not be like his Father, existing without hope and faith. Giving up would never lead to a cure. And one day, if the heavens would will it, there would be an answer. But this answer would not come about by sacrificing another's life. There would have to be another way, but for now something would have to be done about this cure and his brother. Even if it meant following another unsuccessful path, even if it meant chasing another rainbow. There had to be a way to work this out, but working on Orah's case was not a good idea for him. Now he should be further from her, not watching her every move. He was too close to her to think, and he had better step away before she needed protection from him. If he hurried, he could catch Captain Cohen before she went on duty. A cold breeze filled with snow flurries, blew into the Coroner's building as the door swung closed behind him.

******

The atmosphere of the day shift made the precinct seem like a different place than what he was used to. At night everything and everyone felt more ominous. Maybe the job just took on more of a grim tone when darkness fell. Or perhaps it was only the natural way of things to be more wary of what evil might lurk in the darker hours. It was wise to beware the of shadows of the night, and who would know better than himself. Yes, he had for centuries been the hunter, and his only prey were the foolish who braved the night. Desperately, he stopped the progression of his thoughts. It was too dangerous to relive the memories of the stalker that marked time inside of him, and waited for the opportunity to ravage life. Straining to regain control, he managed to push back the beast who even now scanned the precinct with hungry eyes. Recovering control of his human side, he looked around the room. Hardly anyone looked up as he passed, all were busy contending with the last of their paperwork so that they could return to their homes and families. As he made his way to his desk, he toyed with the thought of how it would feel to possess that eagerness to go home after work and to be a part of a family. For the briefest of moments, he fantasized how full life would be with a wife and children who loved him and who he could love too. But this was all a dream, that could never be realized. Because he had only selfishly taken for centuries, his punishment for all his excess would be eternal exclusion from all that was human. Ostracized forever for following a decision he had made a long time ago. Having the chance to observe these few moments, of those who led a normal life, made the yearning to be mortal feel so much stronger. It was only during these Winter hours that catching glimpses of the mortal world could occur. Although these fleeting Winter days gave him abundant freedom from the light, they also permitted him to observe and long for a life that existed only in his imagination. Crossing the room, he took note of every face. Some seemed familiar, but most did not. However, that did not matter, he had not come in early to socialize, he was hoping to catch Captain Cohen. Approaching the Captain's office, he gave the slightly ajar door a light push and peeked inside. The office was unoccupied, and he rapidly reached for the doorknob to pull the door closed. A passing thought told him to go in and wait, but the idea was too uncomfortable. If he had wanted to speak with his prior boss, Captain Stonetree, he would have had no uneasiness about being alone until he arrived, but Captain Cohen was a different story. Going in without her consent felt like a desecration of something sacred. With the easy going Stonetree, he had felt that there was always an open door policy in a relaxed atmosphere. The impression he received from Cohen however, made him feel that her office was off limits, and if he hung around, he would believe himself to be trespassing. So he turned around, and headed for his desk. It was too early to have expected her to be in, it was a good time to catch up on some of the work he had missed while guarding Orah.

Dropping his leather jacket over the back of his chair, he sat down and began to plow through the stacks of files that had accumulated while he was gone. While only half-way through the first file, he startled as a heavy hand plopped down on his shoulder causing him to whirl around. His partner had managed to sneak up on him again when he was engrossed in thought, and with a satisfied laugh at Nick's reaction he moved to sit at his own desk which was across from him.

"I had a feeling that you would be in early tonight. That Orah is a beauty."

"Schanke, is there anything more on the car that almost killed her?"

"It's being checked for prints, but it doesn't look like we are going to get anything. Whoever did this wore gloves, which makes sense, you would have to be crazy not to wear gloves in this weather. I'm waiting for a call now from the rental agency."

Reaching back for his jacket, Nick began feeling around in his pocket for his car keys.

"I'm going to go to the car rental agency now, and check it out in person."

"No, no, no, my ambitious partner. You have the very enviable task of picking up our surveillance job from the hospital. You know, I think that Orah, the sorcerer, likes you."

"She's a faith healer Schank, but anyway I cannot pick her up. That is why I am in early. I wanted to talk to Captain Cohen about re-assigning me."

"You what!? Why would you do that? The Captain will never go for it anyway. I heard that she spent half the day that she devotes to her beauty sleep, keeping Orah in the hospital until you would be able to get to her."

"Trust me Schank, I am not the one for this job."

"Are you kidding? You're perfect. Think about it, a beautiful young woman relying on a big strong *single* police detective to protect her. You couldn't be more perfect for this job Knight."

"I'm not interested."

"Yeah, sure."

"I have an idea, why don't *you* pick her up? You are in on this protective custody case too."

"You must think that I don't want my head connected to my body. If the Captain would not kill me, Myra would. Orah is all yours. What's your problem anyway?"

"I do not think that I can adequately protect her."

"What's the matter Knight, losing your confidence? Try not to even think of her as this magnificent creature who will spend the long lonely dark night with you. Don't even give a thought to her wanting to place her hands on you so that she can heal you of....of....who cares? Is it getting warm in here?"

Leaning back in his chair, Nick smiled and shook his head at his partner's description of the faith healer.

"I'll speak to the Captain when she comes in. And try to settle down Schanke, you wouldn't want Myra seeing you like this."

A look of panic tore through Schanke's eyes as he wildly swung around to look behind him before turning back to his partner.

"Don't ever do that again Nick. I almost sprained my neck just now."

"Then I would suggest concentrating more on your work and less on your fantasies of Orah if you want to keep that neck."

With an annoyed glance, Schanke leaned over his desk and looked directly into his partner's eyes.

"I can tell you right now Knight, the Captain is not going to let you out of this."

Suddenly, Nick broke away from Schanke's glare and looked up to see Captain Cohen standing directly behind his partner, but it was too late to warn him.

"What am I not going to do, Schanke?"

Grabbing his chest where his heart beat fiercely, Schanke twisted around and looked up.

"Jeez Captain! Couldn't you give some sort of warning before sneaking up like that? I'm not a young man anymore."

After a quick smile to her out of breath detective, she turned her attention towards Nick who used the opportunity to speak up.

"Can I see you for a moment Captain?"

"Sure, in my office." Then turning back to Schanke, she studied him for a second. "And Schanke, you should be more aware of your surroundings-being that you are a detective."

Pressing his lips firmly together, Schanke forced out a worried smile and watched as his partner followed the Captain into her office.

After turning on the lights, Captain Cohen found a place for her coat and sat down behind the old desk. With a quick movement, she pushed a pile of reports off to the side, and glanced up at Nick who was turning to close the door behind him. After he positioned himself to face her again, she gestured for him to be seated, but he remained standing.

"So what is it that I will not allow?"

"I cannot protect Orah, Captain. I need to be reassigned."

"Absolutely not! Your partner is right, as much as I hate to admit that."

"Captain, you do not understand. I am not the right one for this."

"There is nothing to understand. Orah is Schanke and your responsibility. I have no one else to spare. Just keep her out of harm's way until she leaves here. There is only one more show tomorrow night."

"I'm not right for this Captain. Let Schanke handle this."

"Do I look like I care if you are the right one? She is yours, just do your best. Schanke should be by to relieve you on and off during the night. Which reminds me, after you pick her up, I want you to take her to your place. No one should know to look for her there."

Looking defeated, he stood before her silently.

"Is there anything else Knight?" "No Captain." As he went to reach for the door's handle, she cleared her throat and he glanced back.

"Knight? I believe you *are* the best man for this job."

With a nod, he tried to sound optimistic.

"Thanks Captain. I sincerely hope that you are right."

After closing the office door behind him, Nick moved back to his desk and sat down hard causing Schanke to look up.

"So was I right, or was I right?"

"You were right Schanke."

"Take it easy Knight. You are thinking about this all wrong. Think about this as a blessing. She can lay her hands on me and cure me anytime she wants."

"Cure you Schanke? I don't think that is possible."

"Oh ye of little faith, ye of little faith."

"Well, just do not let Myra see how much faith you have. I rather not have you sleeping at my place again."

******

After clearing off the snow that had accumulated on the Caddy, Nick pulled out of the parking spot that he had occupied in front of the precinct. By now, the snow covered roads were becoming impassable, but the weight of the Caddy made the trip to the Hospital uneventful. The massive green vehicle easily glided through the harsh weather. Not wishing to turn on the radio in anticipation that he would have to endure another lecture from his Master, he turned his attentions to the sounds around him. The low hum of the motor combined with the rhythm of the windshield wipers that cleared his field of vision. He watched as each snowflake seemed to fling itself against the wet glass as he sped into the night. Suddenly, the wind driven snow began to blow harder against the car. He had driven into a squall, and it was becoming impossible to see. Carefully, he pulled over towards the curb to wait for the storm to pass. Turning off the motor, The Caddy stood still by the side of the road. The view before him instantly became obscured in a thin layer of white, and he became engrossed in the patterns that the newly fallen snow performed before him. Staring deeply into the cool whiteness, his thoughts drifted back to the time just after LaCroix had followed him to Los Angles with Janette. The time right after Don Constantine had told his Father of his whereabouts.

****** Flashback ******

As they rode further away from the city's lights, he knew that she could feel his stare penetrate her. Even though more than a week had passed since LaCroix had tracked down his run away son with his sister's help, he still could only feel coldness towards her. Of all that he had endured, it was her betrayal that hurt him the most, even more than the ruthless beating that he had to bear from LaCroix shortly after he had been located. In an exceptional act of viciousness, LaCroix had demanded that Janette stay to witness his unmerciful beating so that she would suffer as well. He knew that she had agonized tremendously as their Master made certain that every one of his bones had shattered, every muscle had torn, and not one part of his pale complexion escaped the multicolor discoloration of the bruising. He had tried not to let her know that he was aware that she too had experienced each and every injury that their Master inflicted upon him. Through blood filled eyes, he had seen her biting her lip and tightly closing her eyes as she first handedly observed the resigned look on his face as he never once resisted LaCroix's punishment. It was obvious that the guilt over telling their father about how she had arranged for her brother's escape to Don Constantine was consuming her. What she had done was a betrayal, and of course he could only view her now as disloyal. Would there ever come a time when he could trust her again? He looked over into her sullen eyes, and he could easily feel her torment over what had happened, yet he could not summon up any feelings of forgiveness. Maybe it was too soon to feel anything different. In a strange way, he almost enjoyed that she felt his resentment of her. And it was even better that she could feel the pleasure that LaCroix was receiving that both of his children continued to suffer for their acts of defiance. After all he had gone through, he could only feel that it was just that she should suffer too. As he studied her, he watched as her eyes unconsciously shifted to their father who recognized her with a small nod of his head. It was readily apparent how well he held them captive both physically and emotionally. As she quickly looked away, he could feel her hurt over the situation deepen. Turning his head away from his sham of a family, he looked out his back seat window. The large car that LaCroix had hired was having a difficult time driving over the broken dirt roads causing them all to vibrate from the motion. The bright city lights of Los Angles had long since faded from a distant glow to only the moonlit sky. As a farm and a home appeared off in the distance, LaCroix directed the driver to stop. After the vampire family departed from the car, LaCroix paid the driver who anxiously left them on the side of the dirt road. The drive from the heart of the city had been almost an hour, and not one word had passed between the family members. As the dust from the departing car began to settle, he turned towards his father.

"Why do you bring us out here?"

Brushing the dust from his black cloak, a smile began to cross his face.

"It has been so long since we have done anything as a family. I thought that the country air might re-awaken some of your instincts."

"You brought me out here to kill."

"Not just kill, but to feast. To gorge on the holy ones."

Out of the side of his eye, he saw Janette step back as she felt the rage seethe within her brother.

"I do not kill anymore, and nothing you can do can change that LaCroix."

"Suit yourself." Turning towards Janette, he put out his arm for her hand. "You will join me my daughter, will you not?"

The discomfort of her dilemma to stay or to hunt was easily felt by her brother. It was clear that the thought of having her pick of so many was intriguing, but she hesitated. Her predicament gnawed at her as she tried not to cause a further division between herself and him. Finally she let her quandary end with her response.

"I will stay with Nichola, you can go on without me."

"My, my, all this food. Whatever will I do with all of it? Are you sure you will not change your mind Janette? We are far from home, and I do not recall you feeding before we left."

"I am not hungry now."

While raising both eyebrows, he thoughtfully considered her sacrifice to stay with her sibling and smiled.

"Why Janette, I cannot bring to mind ever hearing those words from you. Very well then, I will be down at the meeting of the holy ones should you change your mind. Why not join me to watch the show? It promises to be quite interesting. You do not have to indulge to see what fools these holy ones are."

Taking a step closer to her brother, she held her ground.

"I will find my own entertainment LaCroix."

"As you wish, but do remember that we must depart at least an hour before dawn."

The lighted old barn filled with worshipers stood more than a mile from where they stood, and they watched as their Master arrived at the door in less than a second. For a moment Nick listened with his heightened senses to all the chanting and voices that surrounded his Master as he watched the elder vampire walk inside and lost visual contact with him. Even though he was far from the crowd of devoted worshipers, he could feel their excitement in the air and he was more than a little curious as to what was happening. Surely LaCroix knew that he would not be tempted to kill merely because he took him out to the country. There was a lesson here for him, it was the only explanation as to why LaCroix had taken them so far from the city. He was testing him, even baiting him with the mortals that he admired the most. The ones who would have complete faith in a Supreme Being. Even though his hunger stirred inside him, the idea of draining one filled with goodness sickened him. If it was his Master's plan to have him succumb to his hunger at the sake of the righteous, then he was sorely mistaken.

Once more, his hunger clamored to be satisfied, and his thoughts turned to Janette who he was sure was not finding this self imposed fast desirable, especially with the feast that lay only seconds away from them. It was admirable that she denied her nature enough to stay with him. It was a gesture that she made out of love, and his irritation of what she had done began to soften. After all, it was not totally her fault that she had disclosed the information of his whereabouts. Had she resisted, she would only have been beat as well, and LaCroix would have had his information that way. Having her hurt would not have been what he desired. It was time to let go of all his anger. It was unfathomable to imagine despising her for this act for all of eternity, for they had shared too much time and love to allow that to happen. After all it was his actions to escape that put her in this situation with their master, and now by not allowing her back into his life, he was acting no better than LaCroix. How he was treating her was cruel, and he shuddered to think that he was picking up his fathers attribute for revenge. Glancing over at his sister, he smiled as he watched her brush the dust from the road from her shimmering silk dress. Here they were out on an isolated country road, and his alluring sister was dressed as elegantly as if she had recently walked out of the most chic salon in all of Paris. Feeling his heart soften, he moved to remove a small patch of soot that she had missed.

"Janette, you really do not have to stay with me."

"I know that I do not have to. I want to."

"It does not change what has happened."

"I'm sorry Nichola. I never wanted you to get hurt."

Moving to put her arms around him, he felt his resentment of her return and he pushed her aside. Angrily, he turned away from her.

"When you told him who you sent me to, what were you thinking?"

"I only wanted us all to be a family again. I did not want to lose you."

Shaking his head, he turned back to face her again.

"You had to know of LaCroix's reaction to my leaving."

"I was afraid that you might be harmed being so far from us."

The irony of her reasoning only frustrated him more as he sadly looked away.

"The only one who can hurt me is the one you directed to me."

His remark was accurate, and it stung at her as the rays of the sun. She longed for the answer that would have him understand how truly sorry she was that he had been hurt because of her. Moving closer to him, she lightly ran her soft fingers down his face as she lovingly spoke to him.

"Please Nichola, can we forget this and start again? It feels terrible when we are apart. Please come back to us Nichola."

Pulling her hand from his face, his resolve once again became hardened.

"I will never come back Janette, not in the way of our kind. Not to him and not to you."

Again she approached him and tried to relax him by messaging his shoulders. Tenderly, she pressed her body against him. Then sliding her hand behind his head, she pulled him close and deeply kissed him. Pulling slightly away, she checked his reaction to her ministrations.

"Just for tonight. Come back to me, just for tonight."

Without a word, he bent down and deepened their kiss as he felt his hunger for her consume him. Passionately, he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her into himself. Then after several intense kisses, he pulled slightly away to reveal to her the vampire's eyes that glowed with desire for her. He smiled when he saw that the fire in her eyes matched his, and she was content to see him like this. While letting his anticipation for her grow, he took his time as he pushed away her long dark hair from her neck. After revealing all of her long porcelain colored neck, he gently kissed her throat. He felt his body vibrate from the need for her. Again he pressed his body against her, as he moved his moistened lips across her neck until he found the spot that once beat with a vibrant mortal artery. The hunger for her intensified, and he was grateful to feel his fangs emerge. Licking and nibbling at the source of his desire, his entire mouth quivered as he forced his teeth to pierce her flesh. The warmth of her blood rushed into him, making him feel as close as he could to alive. Savoring her as a rare delicacy, he sucked slowly and sensuously. Trembling still, he withdrew from her and allowed her to consume him as he had just taken her. Now he could feel the pulsating waves of pleasure pour from him as they crashed into her mouth. His excitement grew again as he listened to her moan in ecstasy as her fangs deeply penetrated him and drew from his essence. He had not held back anything, and she knew that she no longer needed to fear that his love for her was lost. After feeling her fangs release from his neck, his thoughts were assaulted by the sensation of his Father, and he could feel that he was pleased. He was satisfied that his children were once again back together, and gratified that they had expressed themselves in a way fitting to their true nature. Although he tried to block his Master's feelings, he could not rid himself of his intrusion even during this most sensual of times. Trying to ignore his Master's satisfaction, he slid behind his sister and pulled her against him. He had denied himself her sweet essence for too long, and he relaxed as he rested his head on her shoulder and gazed into the cool whiteness of the full moon. It was one of the most peaceful times that he could remember for a long time.

Suddenly the calm was shattered as the static from his police radio shocked him back into present time. The only whiteness he now saw was cold and had completely covered his car. Reaching for his radio, he pressed in the button to respond.

"Yeah, Knight here."

"81 Kilo, Captain Cohen was concerned about your whereabouts in the storm. Will you still be en route to the Hospital?"

"81 Kilo, yes. I will be proceeding there now."

Turning on his wipers, he watched as the heavy snow was pushed to the side. The beauty of Winter surrounded him. The squall had ended, and only a few flakes still fluttered in the air. Pulling the car back onto the road, he knew there were only a few more blocks to the Hospital.

******

The drive back from the Hospital had been quiet, more than quiet, the silence had been deafening. Now, as they moved upwards towards the loft, the silence seemed to stretch out as Orah leaned heavily against the elevator's side wall. As they came to a stop, the door glided open, and his guest glanced out into the darkened room. Silently admonishing himself for forgetting to leave on some lights, he rushed to move ahead to add some lighting for his mortal visitor. As he went to turn on some light to help her see her way, she continued to walk into the room.

"Let me get some light for you."

"For me Detective? Don't you need the light?"

"Yes, I do, more than I think you know."

"But I do know. You have very little light, yet your eyes burn with it. You live in darkness, and your soul is drowning in its endless void."

Fascinated by her insight, he felt a sudden chill and instantly became uncomfortable. Without a further word about how effortlessly she had summed up his condition, he went to help her remove her coat then motioned for her to have a seat. When he had turned on all the remaining lights and lit several candles, he went to sit down on the black leather chair near the sofa where she was now comfortably seated. An awkward silence grew as he felt she was waiting for him to respond to her last comments, and he felt an urgency to divert her attention to something other than himself.

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

An unsettling "No," was her only response. Trying to avoid her haunting stare, he began to feel as if the room was closing in on him. As hard as he tried, he could not think of one word to say to her, and he turned his head to concentrate on the snow that fell outside the loft's window. While watching the blowing snow streak across the glass, their lure gradually faded into the background as the weight of the silence between them felt as if it were crushing his soul. Finally, unable to ignore his imagined scrutiny from her, he abruptly stood up and began to cross the room. With his first step she called to him.

"You want to ask me something. Go ahead, I will answer you with truth."

Her words stunned and stopped him, then compelled him to turn back towards her. Spellbound, he could no longer restrain his curiosity.

"What do you see when you look at me? Is there only evil?"

"What I see is a conflict. What I feel is a shadowy void and you are caught there, a prisoner. It is a cold and frightening place. But, when I look into your eyes, I see a soul that is struggling to survive." Painfully, she squinted her eyes and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I see your soul Detective, but it is vague. It is almost lost, and trying to escape even though the darkness fights to obscure it."

"Orah, do you remember when the car almost hit you? What happened when you looked into my eyes?"

"I cannot remember, I am sorry. No, wait, I do remember pain-your pain. There was intense heat and then there was blackness. Your eyes were on fire! I hurt you!"

"I do not know what happened then, but I am fine now."

"Your eyes, of course. The eyes are the windows to the soul. When you tried to reach in and capture my soul, there was an explosion. Something forceful and uncontrollable happened. Please never attempt that again, it is too dangerous." Rising from the sofa, she reached out to him. "You are in great emotional pain. Let me touch you. Let me try to take away your pain."

Defensively, he drew back.

"No! Just as our eyes cannot meet again, so can we never touch. I would only contaminate you with my evil."

Not knowing how to help him, she patiently studied him.

"You are afraid, but not of me. You are afraid of yourself, frightened that you will not be able to control your desires. Terrified that you will kill me."

Finding her analysis of him to be getting too close, he wearily turned to walk away, hoping that she would drop this dangerous conversation.

"I have some work to do. I will not allow any harm to come to you. There is nothing more for us to discuss."

Making himself empty of any human emotion, he coldly hardened himself and moved towards the kitchen until her next words struck him.

"I know what you are now."

Without turning to face her, he stopped as she continued.

"Inside you there struggles a creature that thrives on other's misfortunes. It flourishes on blood." Moving towards him, she walked around to face him, then reached over and placed her arm on his. The action caused her to fall to the ground, but he was afraid to reach for her, fearful of what his touch would do. Shaking, she stood herself upright again, then returned her hand to the same spot. Breathing deeply, she tightly closed her eyes and threw back her head. After a moment, she backed a few steps away and looked at him.

"Two of you are united in one body. The animal that lives inside of you fights to live as much as your soul thrives to grow. I feel no evil, even of the beast, it only wishes to survive, just as your human soul wants to endure. It is not evil to wish to persist, it is natural for both the animal and the human soul. The animal has caused tremendous suffering, for its acts of survival mean that the innocent must perish. It has left darkness in its path. It is this darkness that your soul exists in. The blackness is great, it surrounds the soul and leaves it no escape. It is cut off from all means of release."

Turning away from her, he spoke harshly.

"Then there is not anything that you can do to remedy my condition."

Deliberately she reached out to him, her touch singed his cheek as she guided his face towards her.

"I want to help you, to stop your suffering. Let me try again."

"Save your gift for someone more deserving, it is too late for me."

"Then you believe that I can help you. You have faith don't you?"

In one swift movement he twisted his head so that her hand fell free of his face, and then permitted the wickedness of the beast to answer her.

"Yes, I believe you can help me out of this eternal nightmare, but it is not your faith that I require."

Noticing the red silhouette scorch mark that her hand had deposited on his cheek from her touch, she now comprehended the form her assistance would have to take.

"No, it is not my faith, it is my blood. You need my blood."

Perplexed by her calmness and intrigued by her courage, he allowed the conversation to move forward.

"You do not seem frightened by this idea. Why does your heart not pound with fear?"

"I understand that I have been placed on this Earth for a reason, but I do not know what that reason is. If I have been given this gift of life and of healing to help, then why can the help not be for you?"

Certain that she had no concept of the extent to which her life was in danger, he made every effort to frighten her into reality by striking out with an angry voice.

"WE ARE TALKING ABOUT YOUR LIFE!"

Without even flinching, her statement to him was firm.

"Yes, my mortal life, not my eternal soul."

Holding back the depravity that presently wished to take advantage of her willingness, he stepped closer to her.

"So you wish to sacrifice this life of yours for a killer?"

"No, I only wish to help. I do not know what form my help will take."

Realizing that his attempts to have her change her resolve to help him had failed, he pulled to regain the human part of himself. Shaking his head in disbelief of her offering to forgo her life, he gallantly placed a hand around each of her arms.

"You will not die because of me. I will have no part in taking your goodness from this world."

Neither took a breath as they intently stared at each other, until the sound of the elevator's door loudly opening broke the tension. Both of their attention shifted across the room as they watched Schanke walk in and throw his coat down on a chair. A wide grin flashed across Schanke's face as he acknowledged the scene before him.

"Can't keep your hands off her, hey Knight." Then lessening his smile, he shifted his focus to Orah. "Is this guy bothering you?"

With his partner moving towards him, Nick released his grip of the healer and defended his actions.

"There was nothing going on Schanke"

"Okay, I'm not here to argue. Captain Cohen said I'm supposed to relieve you for a couple of hours. So I'll hold down the fort so you can get some real police business done."

Thinking about his newly arrived partner's offer, he acknowledged that there was an important issue that had to be taken care of, and it had to be soon.

"There is something I need to do. You will be all right here?"

"No problem. One thing though before you leave. We had a chance to talk with the other body guard. What's his name?"

Taking a step towards Schanke, she volunteered his name. "Marty Gilbert."

"Yeah Gilbert, that's the name. Anyway, he said about two weeks ago in Buffalo there was this accident in front of the building where you were performing. A girl was killed when a car lost control, and crashed into the crowd that was waiting to see you. He said that in a lot of ways what happened last night reminded him of that. Also, he said it was about a week ago that they started receiving the threats."

With her breathing rapidly increasing, Orah held an open hand to her mouth.

"What accident? A child died?"

"Yeah, he said that they didn't tell you. They didn't want to upset you before the show. So they really never told you, huh?"

"I could have helped."

Sorry that he had brought it up so casually after witnessing her reaction, he tried to soften the blow.

"They did everything that could have been done, but she was too far gone and died at the scene."

Looking as if she had just aged fifty years, Orah moved silently back to the sofa, and Schanke looked apologetically at his partner. The room grew quieter, and Schanke eagerly grasped to change the subject while gesturing for Nick to play along.

"So Knight, got any pretzels or popcorn? I saw that there is a good western playing on the late show. You know one of those John Wayne ones?"

"I don't know, look in the cabinets. Natalie might have left some popcorn somewhere. I'm going to go now, but I will leave my cell phone on." Moving towards the elevator, he picked up his coat on the way then turned back to Schanke and in a hush tone whispered. "I can trust you right?"

Irritated, he glared back. "Yes, you can trust me. Jeez Nick, I'm a married man."

"And I want you to remain that way. I'll be back soon."

After watching his partner hesitate by the door, Schanke threw Nick a short annoyed wave good-bye, and pointed to the elevator.

"Good-bye Knight. Go all ready. Scram. Vamoose!"

Smiling, Nick slid open the door then slipped inside. While still holding the door from closing, he forced his expression to become serious again.

"Remember, call me if anything happens."

"We will be fine" With another brief wave, Schanke turned to locate the remote for the television but suddenly remembered something and twisted back to his partner. "Wait Nick! If you pass that place where I always get fries, pick up three bags. Unless you guys want some too." As Schanke glanced over to Orah, she shook her head and he then directed his attention back to Nick who also appeared disinterested. Seeing the door start to close Schanke rushed his words. "Nick, don't forget the ketchup." Nick nodded, and Schanke retrieved the remote to turn on the TV as he mumbled out loud. "Can you believe that I had to ask for ketchup. I never heard of a house where there is not at least one bottle of that red stuff always in the frig."

With the door closed, Nick looked down at his watch, and concentrated on how he would break the news of his decision to not kill Orah to his brother. Taking in a long breath, he slowly let it out and directed his concentration towards a family reunion at the Raven.

******

He moved in and out of the shadows of the darkened suburban streets until he located the isolated motel off the highway. It was not an old building, but it had not been kept up over the past decade and it did not look as if there had been any recent attempts to update its condition. Moving faster than the human eye could see, he arrived at his destination and knocked softly on the weathered door. Patiently, he waited for the shaky and timid voice to respond through the flimsy wooden door.

"Who is there?"

Noting her nervousness, he couldn't help but smile at the thought that she believed herself to be secure behind a door so fragile that he could have effortlessly pushed it over in his mortal days. The Master vampire took a deep breath as he pushed himself against his nature to act kind towards this lowly mortal that under any other circumstances would have been his meal. Holding back the vampire's desire, he forced his voice to sound gentle.

"May I speak with you, Mrs. Stiller?"

He was amused as he listened to the sound of the door's small metal chain latch scrape across the wood as she prepared to open the door only as much as the chain would allow to view her visitor. Enduringly, he sighed as she carefully exposed only a few inch crack while she looked still feeling secure in her illusion of being protected. The small vertical opening sent a bright stream of light from the interior of the room over his pale features and darkened clothing, and he squinted as he felt as though a spotlight had been directed at him. Trying to ignore the light, he continued to put forth a non-threatening demeanor as he again spoke.

"May I come in Mrs. Stiller?"

Immediately, the door re-closed as he stood motionless outside listening to the sounds of the woman fumbling to remove the chain lock from its bracket until finally the door was fully opened and revealed a small woman of middle age. Sizing up her disheveled appearance, he knew that this one would only be a meal during the most trying of times. A terry cloth robe hung loosely around her small frame and touched the floor even though she had tied the belt around her waist with several inches overlapping. With her dark sunken in eyes and unkempt straggly hair, he tried to not act repulsed as he was sure he had seen many a corpse that had looked more alive. As he began to step in, she positioned herself to the side so that he could easily enter the run down room. After closing the door behind him, she got her first good look at her benefactor in the light and she shuttered. Her body quivered as she scanned the pale figure that stood before her. Breathing deeply, she tried to quiet her pounding heart as she felt his cold blue eyes penetrating her. Before she spoke, she swallowed hard.

"I didn't think that I would see you again. I thought that you would be angry with me for messing up." Tears began to roll down her tired face as she fell into an anguished cry. "I killed the wrong one, I can't believe I killed the wrong one!"

Bothered by her show of what he deemed to be her misplaced emotions and desiring to get on with his agenda, he searched the room for a tissue for her seemingly endless tears. Emotionlessly, he pulled a tissue from a box that stood on the table near the head of the bed and turned to hand it to her.

"Why would I be angry? It was an honest mistake after all."

Short gasps of air could be heard as she tried to breathe through her sobs. Immediately she grabbed at the tissue to dry her eyes, then suspiciously glanced up at him.

"Then why have you come back?"

"I only wanted you to know that I understand. It is not as if this miscalculation cannot be remedied."

"Do you really think that I could still take care of this?"

"Without a doubt. Why I have every confidence in you."

For a moment, she seemed strong and once more in control, but then tears again began to cloud her eyes.

"But what about that man? He wasn't supposed to die. How can I live with what I've done?"

"Think of your daughter! Think of Sylvia! You know that the person responsible must pay, and you are the only one who can see to that now. It is her memory that you must live with."

With these words, she became flooded with visions of her sweet little girl; remembering her as a baby, and then as a toddler, and then a young girl. She would never see her grow up, never know her as a teenager or young woman. So many nights she had cried herself to sleep while praying that her daughter may be granted a miracle and be able to lead a normal life. Orah was to be that miracle. She was to have given her a new beginning, not been a part of an ending. Life was so empty now without her, and she now knew that she would have traded anything even her own life to have been able to spend a few more days with her daughter, disability and all. As a wave of dizziness passed over her, she stumbled to sit down on the bed. All she could feel was the void that Sylvia had left, and the pain that more tears brought. With pleading eyes she stared up at the only one who would listen.

"Why did this have to happen to my little girl? Wasn't the Cerebral Palsy enough? I only wanted her to be healthy again, I only wanted her to be like other children. Orah could have cured her. She could have made her whole."

"Yes, she could have, but now Sylvia is dead. Gone from all those who have loved her-gone forever. And did Orah even say how terrible she felt for your loss? Was there any mention that she would have your suffering end if she could? No, she never even acknowledged that Sylvia ever existed. She displays no remorse."

Hearing the vampire's words made her realize what must be done. Her heart felt hard and cold as she came to terms with what needed to be done for her to have peace.

"You are right, I am the only one who can honor my daughter's memory now. They would all let her die without a word. They would all forget."

"Her death means nothing to them, it means nothing to Orah. Her death was not even an inconvenience. This time, you must not miss. I have brought you something."

Reaching deeply into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small black gun. His cold hand reached for hers, and he carefully placed the weapon in her palm then closed her fingers around it. Then dropping a tightly sealed package onto the bed next to her, he soothingly spoke, "Inside is everything that is needed to gain access to the next show." He watched as she slowly opened the package to see a ticket from the sold out performance, and a few items to disguise her appearance. Searching her eyes to make certain that she would follow through with this plan, he lowered his voice to almost a whisper to capture her attention.

"Tomorrow evening will be Orah's last show here in Toronto. You have a front row seat. If you are careful, you will not miss."

"I never shot a gun before. The car was one thing, but a gun?"

"The car caused you to kill the wrong person. Do you wish for that to happen again?"

"No, I don't want that."

"If you take care of this tomorrow, your pain will be over, and Sylvia will have not died in vain."

"I will not miss again. I need this to be finally over."

"You *are* doing the right thing Mrs. Stiller."

"Thank you for all of your help. You are the only one who cares. Will I see you again?"

"No, this is our last meeting, but I will be watching. The time has come for us all to get what we want."

Even though most of her tears had dried, she turned to get another tissue and closed her eyes as she blew her nose. As she finished, she opened her eyes, but he was gone. A cold breeze began to blow through the opened door, and she moved to close it. Shaking her head to clear it, she was astonished at how fast he had left. As she closed the door, she pushed the chain latch back into its place, then went back to examine the loaded gun and the disguise that lay next to them.

******

After being outside driving with the glare from the snow, even his eyes had some trouble adjusting to the dim lighting of his sister's club. The flashing colors of light that were flung on the dancers from above, was done only to effect the mood of the club and distracted rather than added any extra illumination. The music's beat felt more exuberant almost savage tonight, and the dancer's movements were uninhibitedly more erotic as he moved through the crowded refuge for his kind. A few stray mortals had unknowingly wandered into the vampire haven tonight, but for the most part the building's occupants were those who endlessly roamed the night. Allowing his heightened senses to emerge, he instantly became bombarded with scores of vibrations that linked the members of their society. But even surrounded by so many others who were the undead, he had no trouble distinguishing the unique link that he shared with his brother, and he allowed the blood tie that stood out, to direct him to the bar. As he approached the bar, he now had no trouble recognizing by sight this new or rather old family member. But Roland's bond was not the only sensation that called out to his perceptions. Although he could not see her, he knew from years of experience that his sister was not far off. While he was searching for family members, he ventured to locate their Master, but felt nothing of him. Deciding to not totally trust his senses, he also did a quick visual scan for the Master vampire, but even that turned up nothing. Knowing that his Father was not nearby caused him to involuntarily sigh in relief, but he should have realized that LaCroix had not been by, for he could sense no tension from his siblings. Sliding onto one of the unoccupied bar stools, he motioned for his brother to come close, and waited for him to get near before speaking.

"Where's Janette?"

Smiling, Roland shook his head.

"And I thought that all those unpleasant rumors about your lack of socialization skills were untrue. I'm doing quite well brother, and you?"

"I am not here for polite conversation Roland."

"That's obvious. Okay, we'll do this your way. Janette went downstairs to bring up some more of my favorite drink. She will be right back. Can I get you something?"

"I'm fine. Are you working here?"

"Yes! How do you like that? In town for only a week, and already I'm gainfully employed. Actually, I suggested to Janette that we let that poor tired Miklos have the night off. I am after all well versed in the art of mixing drinks. Being in the political limelight, I've had many opportunities to acquire a wide range of skills. Although with the few mortals that are here tonight, there really is little chance to show off my talents."

"We need to talk."

A sudden rush of excitement at the thought of being so close to his cure, caused Roland to knock over the drink that he was preparing at the bar, and he began to sweep the broken pieces of glass along with the spilled blood into his hand. Still overwhelmed with emotions he looked over at his brother.

"I knew you would listen to reason, you only needed some time to think it over to know that this is the only way. I have acquired a second cup, and everything will be ready as soon as I locate where your police friends have hidden our savior. You wouldn't be able to pull some strings would you?"

"Roland, we have to talk.....privately."

"Sorry brother, I did get carried away. It has been so long, and to be so close now... Well, I guess I really don't have to explain this to you. We will talk. We just have to wait until Janette returns. In fact, I feel her now."

Both looked to the side of the room as their sister glided behind the bar carrying two dust covered bottles. Smiling broadly, Roland withdrew one from her hands and pulled the cork off to sniff its contents.

"Ah Janette, you do know what I like. How have I made it through the years without you?"

Following each of her movements, he watched as she placed the other bottle on the bar, then leaned close to draw her near. She offered no resistance as he kissed her slowly and deeply. An unexpected feeling of jealously began to surface as he watched, and Nick turned away. Feeling Nick's emotions, the two parted and looked towards him. With a satisfied grin, she glanced at Nick then moved to place the other bottle under the bar. Her voice filled with sarcasm as she savored the taunted expression on his face.

"Bon Soir Nichola. It has been so long since you last visited. So I must conjure up old family members in order to have the pleasure of your company?"

Ignoring her attempts to criticize him, he rapidly changed the subject.

"Janette, is there a place where Roland and I can speak in private?"

Sighing, she pointed towards an area behind the bar.

"So it is true that even this visit is not for me. Go and have your talk. You should find it private enough back there."

Quite naturally, he leaned across the bar, and lightly kissed her lips. "Thanks Janette."

Savoring his kiss, she licked her lips before raising her glass of bloodwine for a sip. Having her brothers showering her with attention was definitely something she could get used to. Turning, she watched as her brothers disappeared through the crowded dance floor, and towards the Raven's back room.

The difference in the level of volume of the music from the bar to the back room of the same building was amazing. Finding the door first, Nick reached for the doorknob and walked in. Since the room was unlighted, Nick ran his hand near the door's frame until he felt the switch and turned on the overhead lights. Curiously, Roland watched Nick's actions as he closed the door behind them.

"You can see in the dark, can't you Nichola?"

"I prefer to function as a mortal when I can."

"Good. I didn't know how much LaCroix left out. So tell me Nichola, do you know where Orah is?"

"We cannot sacrifice her."

With his brother's words, anger ripped through him. So much in his many life times had surprised him, but this ethic code that his brother carried did not make sense. Trying to calm himself, he hoped that somehow he would listen to reason.

"Nichola, do you know what you are saying? Without her, we remain in this immortal state forever. I thought you wanted to be human. I thought you wanted your mortality back."

"I do want it back, but not at this cost."

"Cost? Cost? She is one mortal. One mortal for two less vampires in the world. I would say the value in that far exceeds the cost."

"We gain nothing if we take another innocent life. Our mortality would be worthless. It would be tainted."

"Our mortality would be worth everything! It would mean the end of this incessant hunger for blood, an end of existing in a world of darkness, and an end to the killing. A beating heart Nichola! Do you remember what that is like or has it been too long? The sight and smell of food that does not sicken. To love a mortal woman without destroying her. To dare to dream of a family. All this is within our reach. How long have you dreamed of this or dare I say prayed for this? One drink of her sacrificed blood, and the beast that has plagued us and all those who have been unfortunate to have been near us, will be only a bad memory."

Squinting his eyes in pain, he knew that everything Roland had mentioned was true. He felt as if his brother had reached into his soul and easily read his deepest desires. This was not a decision that he had made in haste, it was a difficult choice. If there could be any other way, he would do it. But he could not gain even this most precious of all treasures by destroying another. As he looked into Roland's hurt eyes, he could feel his own heart breaking at what he must continue to do.

"I cannot do this. Her life is important too!"

"Then ask her! That's right, I said to ask her. Give her the facts. Tell her what she could do by offering her life to us. She would not say anything different than what I tell you now."

"I will not have her make such a choice."

Roland's eyes lit up, and he shook his head in amazement.

"She knows, doesn't she? She has already offered to die for this cause. It is only you who holds us back. Nichola, don't you see how wrong it would be to let this opportunity evade us? I know that you understand what I say to be true. Nichola......she knows too!"

"She knows nothing of what we are. She only has good in her heart. She only wishes to help."

"Then let her! Or do you know more than this holy one? She will come to us willingly. Do not make this more difficult than it has to be. Do not Nichola!"

"I will not have any part of this murder. That is what you propose. It is murder pure and simple, even with her consent."

"Can we at least speak with her? Where is she Nichola? You cannot hide her forever. Nothing will stop her performances."

"I will protect her from you and anyone else who wishes to harm her. You can not complete this ritual without me remember?"

"If I bring to you her blood in the cups, can you truly say that you would not drink? Would you let her death be without benefit? So it is you who now hides her. My own brother is my worst enemy. I will have her blood, and you will drink or she will die in vain."

"You are not any better than LaCroix. Life is meaningless to you."

"How dare you judge me! You know nothing of me! I was barely twenty years old when I was brought across, how would I know of life? How would you know? Neither of us has had a life in centuries. In all my years, I have never witnessed any creature as pathetic as you. You are a hypocrite, professing to desire mortality then throwing it away out of some outdated sense of righteousness."

The door burst open wide as Roland's last remark still hung in the air. Their Master casually walked in glaring first at Roland than at Nicholas. His voice almost hissed as he spoke.

"Yeeesss Nicholas, I quite agree that you do have an outdated sense of righteousness!"

Contemptuously, Roland spoke up to grab his father's attention.

"Do not help me LaCroix! I am not on your side!"

"Why Roland, you wound me." In an instant his Master's fangs dropped into place and his eyes burned red as he raced towards his first son and forced him to collide into the wall. "Now it is my turn to wound you! This conversation is finished! You are finished! I am about to make this decision easy for you Nicholas! With this one's death, there will no longer exist this dilemma!"

Fearful to move, Nick called out. "LaCroix, do not destroy him!"

"Isn't this what you wanted Nicholas? I'm destroying evil!"

"You do not have to destroy him. He is no threat to you! I will not follow him."

"Although you believe that all is about you Nicholas, you are mistaken! This involves an old debt that is about to be repaid! Stay out of this! This is not of your concern!"

Not being far behind her Father after seeing him enter the Raven, Janette was out of breath from anger and fear while following him to the back room. As she stormed through the opened door her gaze was drawn to the horror of LaCroix's violence towards Roland. Angrily she crossed her arms and shouted, "What is going on in my club? I will not have this! Let him down LaCroix!"

Radiating hostility, her Master whirled to face her with her brother still tightly clamped in his grip. "He will be free of me soon enough! He will depart shortly!"

"LET HIM GO! You will not hurt him in my place! I have lived with the lie that he was dead for all these centuries because of you. You owe me LaCroix! Let him down!"

She watched as her Father fought the impulse to destroy her older brother before he finally let him fall heavily from his crushing hold. A shudder, from confronting LaCroix, shook her as she turned to Roland.

"Go, and do not ever return!"

While still choking and coughing, Roland looked at Janette with eyes filled with sorrow, but she only turned away from him. It hurt her to treat him like this, but it was the only way she could save him from a certain death at LaCroix's hands. Every part of him shook as he regained his balance and glanced over at Nick, and he saw that there was no reason to try and become part of this group of vampires that was all he had of a family. All of them were against him. It was only for Janette, that he remained alive. Swallowing hard, he looked first at Janette and then at Nicholas before he broke the silence of the room with his sarcastic tone.

"Well, this was a nice get together. We should do this again. Let's say in another eight hundred years?"

With his head shaking from the pity of it all, he opened the door that led back into the club and exited. In an instant LaCroix moved to within inches of Janette, his voice threatening and rising. "NEVER TELL ME WHAT TO DO AGAIN! I OWE YOU NOTHING! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back with her whispered voice shaking.

"Yes LaCroix."

With another step back, she again took a breath to calm herself, but did not dare to look at him. Composing himself, the Master vampire lowered his voice to his daughter. "Good, you can go back to your customers. I will speak with my son now."

Her eyes nervously shifted to Nicholas, who gave her a slight nod and a reassuring smile. Without a word she hurried from the room. After watching her close the door behind her, LaCroix turned to face his son and stood silently studying him for several minutes before speaking.

"I cannot remember your sister being so insubordinate towards me. Surely Roland's short stay has produced her outrageous behavior. I trust that I will have no such outbursts from you. I allowed her to live, I would not be so generous with you."

"She only protected her brother."

"Yes, and if it were not so irritating, it would have been amusing. And do not refer to him as your brother again. I disowned him almost eight hundred years ago. He is no son of mine."

"Why is it LaCroix that his existence has been withheld from me?"

"You had no need to know. He only makes himself known at this time because he needs you. I will not have his bad influence on my children."

"He told me that my becoming a vampire was a result of him leaving you."

"Leaving me? I allowed him his life in return for his guarantee to stay out of my family's life forever. When he returned, he gave up all claims to his eternal life. That would make you very important wouldn't it? You were worth risking his life for."

"He wishes you no harm."

"You are wrong Nicholas. He is capable of unlimited harm, and he will destroy you along with himself."

"Why can you not just let us live our own lives?"

"First you must be capable of such actions, and second you do not have your life- I have it. You own nothing. You will not have any more contact with the one called Roland. Janette's little display was successful in granting him a pardon, but if I discover any interaction from him with you, what you witnessed just now will seem pleasant in comparison."

As his father turned to leave, Nick called out. "You believe in this cure, don't you?"

"I believe only in myself."

"Why LaCroix are you so bitter?"

"You mean why do I not have faith? Faith, my dear Nicholas, is for the weak. It offers me no comfort. What has faith brought you?"

"I need to believe that there is a reason for everything I have seen and everything that has happened."

"And if there is a reason? Then what does that tell you? That all the pain that you have caused and have witnessed over the centuries is acceptable? Has faith take away your ability to reason?"

"Then it is lack of faith that helps you?"

"Faith has nothing to offer me. I control what happens to me, and to you."

"You cannot control my faith; is that what really bothers you about my beliefs? You are not in control LaCroix, you only believe yourself to be."

"You are wrong Nicholas! Whether you live or die depends upon my whims. Tell me, has this faith of yours made you happy? Content? You should know by now that there are no answers, no solutions. Stop destroying yourself in this worthless pursuit of the unattainable."

"I still believe, LaCroix."

His Master's voice exploded into anger. "Follow what you believe to be faith, and you will end up with nothing. Faith is nothing more than an empty bottle that you believe to be filled. Dream all you wish for it to be full, but that will not change what it contains. Stop clinging to this bottle, for it contains nothing."

This time he watched as his Father turned to leave, and said nothing. He wanted to believe, he needed to believe. Maybe LaCroix was right, or maybe not. He only knew that for him there had to be something more than merely surviving, and there would always be a part of him which held his faith. There was little he knew of faith, but the one thing that he did know certainly had to frighten his Master. Nothing could destroy evil but faith. With his Father gone and his decision finally resolved, he pulled a chair close to him and sat down. This was not the first conversation on faith that he had held with his Father, and most likely it would not be the last. Faith was an issue that seemed to attract LaCroix. It was a game to him, almost like playing with fire. Each time that his Father won, he acted as though it made him stronger. One day he would lose to faith. One day he would not be able to go against such a strong tide. The Raven's room was quiet, and his thoughts kept drifting back to Los Angeles and his families last encounter with the faithful.

****** Flashback ******

The large dilapidated wooden barn was packed with those believing the cure for all of humanities illnesses were held in one's faith. The woman who had started this diversion from Christianity had long since died. But in the forty years since her passing, hundreds of small congregations had spread her message across the United States. With his gaze taking in his surroundings, LaCroix felt his senses quickening. There were so many inviting choices, but he really was in the mood for something extraordinary, almost exotic for dinner tonight. The crowd's chanting grew louder as they whipped themselves into a frenzy of overzealousness. As he allowed his eyes to glide over all the tempting selections, a slight grin began to unconsciously emerge. Tonight was quite special for they would thoughtfully provide a show before dinner with all their wild excitement. A simple but sturdy stage made from old slats of wood had been hastily built, and LaCroix scanned the few who perched themselves on top to be seen by the crowd. Even though the founder of this religion had been female, it was the males who had now taken over the higher positions. As the Master vampire bided his time, the youngest of the men on the platform stage picked up a broken board and began to pound it against the side of the base of the platform as he raised his voice to gather all the follower's attention. As each became aware of the young man's voice, a hush slowly took over and all that soon remained was the echo of his voice throughout the barn. The fiery sermon began, and LaCroix smiled as he listened to the preacher's word as he leaned against the barn door's opening. Perhaps this one so full of passion would be the main course on the menu tonight. The evangelist's words rang out into the night, and were answered by the cries and cheers of all those who had gathered. With fervent emotions like his, this trip out to the country for a good meal would have been worth the effort. The preacher's utterances faded into the background as LaCroix envisioned the pleasures that this meal held in store for him. The gratifying thoughts of this preacher's blood caused the vampire to stir strongly within him, and almost diverted him from the change of mood in the crowd. The holy group had changed into an aroused mob, and had begun to swarm out through the barn doors on their mission. From what little had had gathered during the brief moments he had listened to the impassioned preacher, he knew that they were on their way to help some unfortunate mortal who believed their combined faith would save him. Moving further back, he allowed the enthusiastic crowd to pass until he found himself almost behind the slotted opened door. In his lustful daydreams of his targeted meal, he had lost track of his intended victim and desperately searched out the one special heartbeat as the group exited. They had moved out so suddenly and so compactly that he had missed out on any opportunity to ensnare his intended one. Frustrated, he moved to follow the mob when his attention was suddenly drawn to the sound of another heartbeat, one with a softer and calmer rhythm. A young girl most likely not more than seventeen in mortal years had strayed from the group and was headed his way. Standing still, he watched her approach. Her complexion was still red from the feverish prayer session. A breeze crossed his face, and he breathed in the scent of the blood that reddened her cheeks. Naively, she confidently walked up to him.

"Will you be joining us to help the boy?"

In an instant all thoughts of the preacher shifted to this young one. The aroma of her essence was one of the sweetest he had come across in years, and his passions, to have all of her, roared to life. He ran his long fingers thoughtfully across his lips as he spoke to her.

"I'm afraid that I am not one of your group. I was merely observing."

"We could use your help. If you immerse yourself, you will find the experience of us to be unforgettable."

"Yes. The thought did cross my mind. You are so young. Are you here by yourself?"

"I am alone. I joined only a few months ago. My parents never understood me, not even my faith. So I left, and neither of us wish to keep in touch."

"They must miss you?"

"No, they were glad that I left. They always said that I attracted a bad element. I'm sure that they would not care, if I live or die, as long as I don't bother them. But, we will talk later, let's catch up with the rest of the group for now."

Moving closer to her, his eyes began to flicker with fragments of light, and he allowed his voice to soothe her while she unknowingly surrendered her will to the stranger.

"It is dark, young one, will you show me the way?"

While his stare deeply penetrated her, she allowed the sound of her heart to be trapped by him. Lifting his arm, he captured her chin and forced their eyes to meet. Using his other hand, he sensually pet her long silken hair while a twist of a smile crossed his lips and she fell into his arms and lay powerlessly against him.

"On second thought, why don't I show you the way?"

Taking her hand, they disappeared quietly into the dark of night far from the crowd that had long since left their sight.

****** Flashback continued ******

A cool late evening breeze whipped around both him and Janette, but went unnoticed. The temperature of the air was always comfortable, but the wind pushed against them as they lovingly held hands while strolling under the eternal stars. The stars, how he cherished their shimmering lights. They, like him, were eternal, always his companion throughout time. No matter how lonely he felt, they were always present with their comforting glow. Perhaps his admiration for these celestial objects stemmed from his mortal sister's fascination of them. In a way, he could feel her love and his past mortality when he gazed at the stars. Somehow he could believe that it was her love of life that reflected in the stars, and that still showered the darkened skies. It was her soul, that through these stars, adorned his way throughout time. Inhaling a breath of the country air that surrounded him, he let its refreshing sweetness calm him. It was easy to feel that he and Janette were the only two in the world out here. Out here, although he dared to even think it, he felt alive. Full of life, a cursed life that had caused too much pain in the world. Renewed images of the countless number of lives that he had cut short saturated his thoughts. How did he have any right to feel good? He was not worthy of all this goodness. The only thing that he deserved was the eternal damnation that awaited him at the time of his death. Of his fate, he was certain. In this he had faith. A sound from a distant home, distracted him from his self-recriminations, and he stopped to listen carefully. It was obvious that Janette had heard it also, for she had paused as well but then pulled in the opposite direction. In the far off distance, he was able to catch a glimpse of a soft glow of a light in a window. Unclenching hands with Janette, he raced through the plowed fields trying to discover the source of what sounded to be a child in distress. Feeling frustrated and defeated by her lover's loss of interest, she reluctantly followed. Arriving seconds before his unhappy partner, he began to wander around the small wooded structure. His senses led him to a broken window in the rear of the house. Stepping closer to the glass, he saw the form of a young boy rolling in pain on his bed. An older woman tried to place a wet rag on his forehead through his thrashing. The child had a high fever, and he easily recognized all the mortal symptoms. By the time Janette had re-joined him, he again hurried away towards the front door despite his sister's strong protests. Knocking frantically caused the frail door to swing open into the oil lamp lit room. Only a few sparse pieces of furniture and a thread bare carpet decorated the room, and his eyes immediately fell on a worn out man of his own mortal age who sat silently reading. The frantic entrance of the two strangers, did not effect the man's concentration. The book that he was focused on had seized all of the man's attention as he rocked his body and mouthed the words. Disregarding the man's lack of reaction to them, Nicholas bolted to the room where the boy lay moaning while Janette lingered at the praying man's side. As she inspected him, an undeniable urge began to surface. It was long past dinner time. Moving around in front of him, she easily found his heavy heart and gingerly pulled the book from his hands as he stood up. Stepping along side of him, she took his hand and both silently disappeared through the door.

The child's moaning was quieter now, but non-stop as Nick burst into the narrow bedroom. The moistened cloth fell from the woman's hand, and she threw herself across her son's body shielding him from the stranger. A look of hurt passed over his face when he realized that she feared him. Although his intentions were to help, the woman had seen some of the glint of the vampire that he had failed to hide in his haste. Her eyes opened wide with fear as he cautiously approached the mother and child.

"Let me look at your son. I am a doctor, and he is very sick."

"He doesn't need a doctor. My husband is praying for him and all the members have gathered to make him well again."

"Listen to him suffer! His fever is so high that he most likely does not know who you are or even his own name."

"He will be cured. If we all have faith then everything will work out for the best."

"Please, let me look at him! I will not administer any medicines."

Standing up, the woman moved to the side to retrieve a lantern at the far end of the room and brought it near the bed. Remembering to breathe, Nick inhaled deeply then sat heavily on the bed. Pushing past all the wet linens, he found the boy face down gasping for air. Rolling him onto his back, he stiffened at the ghost-like pallor of a face twisted in agony. Trying to push back the horror of the child's appearance, he reached to touch his forehead. Almost with pleasure the boy relished the touch of the vampire's cold hand against his skin for a brief second. Pulling back, Nick began to slowly examine his body as the child writhed in agony. Starting at the young one's neck, he probed at every gland and organ that he suspected might be affected. Then suddenly, the mysterious affliction became very apparent as he gently applied pressure to the child's lower right abdomen. A scream exploded from the boy that even startled him, then the child began to vomit and chock uncontrollably. After a few more moments, the vomiting stopped and Nick ran his hands down the boys face and tried to capture his gaze. The quivering child looked hard at him, but he was unsuccessful at calming him through the hypnosis. Turning his gaze to the boy's Mother, he tried not to reflect his frustration in his voice.

"I know why your son is sick. I have seen this before. He can be helped, but it would require surgery and it would need to be done now."

Twisting towards the dresser, she grabbed a book from the top and held it to her chest as she spoke with tears in her eyes.

"This is what he needs! Our faith will heal him!"

Rising slowly from the bed, he moved close to her and pulled the book from her hands. It was called the bible of Science and Health. He had heard of Mary Baker Eddy's work and how she believed that faith could heal because disease was mental rather than physical. But this case was different, the boy had appendicitis that was about to burst and poison him. Truthfully, he was not even certain that at this point that it was not already too late. But without surgical intervention, the boy's fate was sealed. He would die an agonizing death. Holding the book out towards the Mother, his words became strong and harsh.

"Your prayers will not save him!"

"The practitioner is on the way, and he brings all the others. My reality, my son's reality, and even yours are all spiritual. No one truly exists on only a physical plane! Don't you understand?"

Although he understood probably better than anyone what life was like existing without a soul in a purely physical state, he persisted in saving her son.

"I understand that your son will die unless you let me help."

"Do you have faith? Not everything is so simple to see. Sometimes a person must look beyond the obvious. When I was a child, my Mother took me to hear a magnificent musician. Everyone who was there was captured by the melodies wonders and pleasures. None could resist dancing to the music's rhythm. When everyone in the room was lost to the music's ecstasy, a deaf man wandered in. I noticed that he could not see the musician who was surrounded by the dancing people, and of course he could not hear the music. I heard him mumble that we were all insane because we danced wildly in the room, and then he stormed away. Since he could not experience the music, he felt it not to exist. I cannot prove to you how important it is to have faith and to believe that there exists something in the beyond, but that doesn't mean that it does not exist. The deaf man could not hear the beautiful music, but it did exist. It is this faith that motivates us."

Feeling moved by her story, he stood silently as she slid the book from his grasp and began to read. Emotionally drained, he moved back to the moaning boy. Although he admired their faith, he could not accept it. Their child would die, a death that might have been preventable. This was blind faith, and a child would sacrifice his life tonight for it. Staring into the boy's glazed over eyes, he made one final attempt to at least hypnotize away the intense pain. There was no reason his faith had to mean that his life must end in agony. Summoning all of his vampire senses, he finally broke through the boy's delirium, and the child drifted off into an undisturbed sleep. Nicholas knew that this was a sleep from which he would never awaken. At least he would die in peace.

For the last time he wearily rose from the bed. A rowdy crowd was approaching. They sang hymns as they entered and began to fill the house. Backing towards the wall, he willed himself to look away as he quietly made his way out. Sadness swept over him when he reached the outside door. He felt lost in the depths of sorrow over the soon to be death of the boy and over his own lack of faith. Trying to gather some strength from the Mother's story of the deaf man and the music, he jumped as his thoughts were suddenly shattered by LaCroix's voice.

"Not paying attention Nicholas? That is not wise for a vampire."

Quickly, Nicholas took in his surroundings. He had already walked several meters from the house and the crowds of the faithful ones. Glancing over his shoulder, Nick gave a grievous glance at what he left behind before turning back to see Janette joining them. A smirk crossed LaCroix's lips.

"They are all fools!"

Nicholas ignored his Master's comments and instead focused on his sister's actions. She looked almost intoxicated as she steadied herself against a tree. A satisfied half-laugh escaped her as she responded to her father's comment.

"Fools they are, but they are delicious."

Sharply turning his head back towards the house, Nicholas realized that he had left Janette with the boy's Father when he had rushed by him in his haste to get to the child. Without thinking he had left her alone with the helpless man. Turning his attention back to his sister, he cried out in anger.

"NO!"

Enjoying his son's reaction, LaCroix moved close to him as he sarcastically spoke.

"Well now Nicholas, it seems like you have your wish. We have finally undergone a truly fulfilling religious experience, and I for one am ready for a long nap back in town."

Reaching for his daughter's hand, she graciously slid towards him then reached out for her brother to join them, but he shook his head. Seeing his son's reaction, he allowed his gaze to penetrate him as he reminded his offspring with a slight edge of a threat in his tone.

"You can stay for a while longer if you wish, but I will expect you to return to us before sunrise. Remember Nicholas, I can always find you."

Nicholas looked up as he watched LaCroix and Janette take off into the darkened sky. Their shadows moved across the path of the moon, but he continued to stare at the large heavenly body, that did not burn him, long after they passed. Were these people fools to believe as LaCroix had accused them? Or was it more foolish to ridicule all hope? Faith had great power, of that he was certain. If one day he had enough faith, then maybe he would be able to attain his desire. Pushing aside thoughts of what his future would hold, his eyes shifted once again to the lighted house surrounded by nothing but darkness. Remembering his Father's words, he too lifted himself into the sky.

******

As he waited for the door of his loft elevator to open, Nick was filled with conflicting emotions. Thoughts of what had just happened at the Raven and his bygone memories of the others with faith consumed his thoughts, but he had no time for such indulgences now, he had a beautiful faith healer to protect. After he entered the elevator, he felt it rise and contentedly listened to the two mortal heartbeats that beat safely in his loft. Thankfully, Roland had not thought to look for Orah at his place, she was safe for now. But for how much longer? There was no possibility of protecting her forever, his brother was correct. And if Roland would one day locate her and ritualistically kill her for her blood, would he be strong enough to resist his brother's offering for a mortal life? To not drink her blood after the deed was done, would really mean that she would have died without any benefit or purpose. It would not be what she would want, she would desire that her death meant helping. Visions of his sibling coming to him with the holy one's blood filling the two jade cups caused the vampire to stir, and he was reminded that he had not yet fed tonight. That would have to be remedied soon, or he would be too much of a danger to his guest. What would become of her after he saw her safely out of Toronto? Roland was still out there, and nothing except for LaCroix would stop him from having his mortality. Nothing would stop him from having Orah's blood. Shaking his head quickly, he tried to rid himself of the thoughts of what would come after Orah's last show in the city. Then with one final jolt, the elevator came to a halt and the door slid open. With his first step in, a rush of panic and helplessness froze him in his tracks. Hearing the elevator door open, the two turned from their seats to look at him, then Schanke began to rise and move towards him.

"You forgot the fries didn't you?"

Although his partner stood only a meter from him, his eyes were glued to the other who rested comfortably on his sofa. Unable to help but notice the unblinking stare of his partner, Schanke moved behind Nick and slapped him on the back.

"Nick, why didn't you ever tell me about your brother here? You wouldn't believe the stories that he has been telling me of the two of you growing up."

"You are right Schank, I would not believe them."

Moving around to face Nick, he tried to break his partner's unwavering piercing focus.

"You could have at least told me that you had relatives in town. I always though that you were alone."

Cautiously, Roland rose from the sofa and joined the two by the elevator.

"Please Donny, in all fairness to Nichola, he only recently found out I was in town. I'm afraid I'm a bit of an unexpected surprise."

As soon as Roland was within an arms distance away, Schanke moved between the two brothers and placed an arm over each of their shoulders. And with a smile that stretched from ear to ear, he enthusiastically squeezed the three of them together as he responded to Roland.

"Don't worry about it Roland. I'm sure Nick here is thrilled to see you after all these years. How long did you say it's been?"

Feeling uncomfortably close to both Schanke and his brother, Nick pulled away taking Schanke with him. Understanding his brother's reaction, Roland moved back to sit on the sofa as his brother whispered across the room to his partner.

"Where's Orah?"

"She's fine Nick. Take it easy. She was tired, so I suggested that she go up to your bedroom and get some rest."

"Don't you think that letting a stranger in here while we are watching someone who is in protective custody is a poor idea?"

"Jeez Nick, we are talking about your brother!"

"I do not care who it is. Another person knowing of Orah's whereabouts is a threat to her security."

"Sorry Nick. I didn't think that you would mind. Anyway, he didn't see her, she went upstairs before he came. But he does know that she's here."

"I'm aware that he knows."

"Don't you trust him Nick? Do you think that he had something to do with that car that tried to kill Orah last night?"

"No, he was not involved with that, but I still have reservations about him."

Ignoring Nick's suspicions, he gave his partner a slight push towards the sofa and began to move towards Roland hoping his words would break their tension.

"Boy Nick, to hear your brother here talk, you two sounded as if you had the greatest time."

Distrustful of Roland's sudden friendship with his partner, Nick cautiously moved towards them while glaring at Roland.

"Well that was a very long time ago, and sometimes things change. Sometimes even brothers do not see things the same way."

Nick took the chair near the sofa while his partner sat opposite Roland on the sofa. Schanke's eyes anxiously shifted from one brother to the other as their silence stretched out. And in his desperation to break their silence, Schanke spoke up, hoping that at least one of them would answer a question that had been nagging him since he met Roland.

"You know, you two look nothing alike. It is hard to see the family resemblance."

His partner's words caused him to break his penetrating glare of his brother and turn his head towards Schanke.

"We were adopted."

"Wow! Both of you huh? Must have been some nice guy to have taken both of you in."

Almost before he had finished his sentence he had two incredulous expressions from both brothers staring at him. "What! What did I say?"

A tense laugh suddenly escaped from Roland, and he relaxed.

"It is quite a long story Donny. One I'm sure that Nichola here will be most happy to tell you one day. Maybe during one of those long boring stakeouts."

Schanke's eyes lit up. "You call him Nichola too. Just like Janette down at the Raven."

"Yes, well, we are from the same part of the world." Shifting his attention back towards his brother, he continued. "So Nichola, Donny here was telling me of all the people you have saved. And I must say that I am quite impressed with all the good work that my brother is doing."

"Yes, that is my job. I protect and help people to live."

"An extremely honorable profession. It must be incredibly satisfying to bring killers to justice. Yes, certainly a tremendously *redeeming* experience. You are quite the hero, brother. Unselfishly putting yourself in mortal danger, performing one humane act after another, and now protecting the life of such an exquisite creature. An honorable knight you truly are indeed."

Listening to all of Roland's praises of Nick stirred a bit of jealousy in Schanke, and he interrupted.

"Well you know Roland, I was there for all those arrests too. I helped bring down my fair share of scumbags. We are a team."

"Of course Donny! I didn't mean to slight you. I'm afraid I was just gloating over my younger brother's accomplishments. I am extremely aware of the importance of a team. So many times nothing can be accomplished without the cooperation of both partners or brothers."

"Yeah, you are so right Roland! Do you know that last year Nick and I got the partner's of the month award?"

"And why not? There cannot be a finer tuned pair. I'm sure that the two of you could work out the most difficult of situations." Turning to face Nick, he smiled slightly then looked back at Schanke. "I bet you could have helped in the last Country I was in. They had a most difficult problem, and could not easily solve it. It seemed that the entire Country could not bring to justice two very ruthless killers. They would kill over and over again, yet each time escape. There was only one person who could put an end to their killing, but to do so would mean sacrificing her life. She knew that only she was in the proper position to save countless others. However, it was a moral dilemma that many felt uncomfortable dealing with. The decision to sacrifice one life to save many, not an easy one to make is it?"

"Was this that case about the two bombers and that lady bomb expert?"

"Yes, it was about her. Only she could stop the bomb from exploding, but it would mean her life. She could not save herself and all the others too. Some dilemma is it not detective? One life or thousands? Which would you pick?"

Throwing himself back against the sofa, Schanke shook his head. "Whoa! That's a tough one. I guess I would have to say save the thousands, but it is not a decision that I would like to make. So what happened?"

"She did it Donny! She knew that it was a greater good to forfeit her one life to save the many and destroy the two killers forever."

In an instant Nick joined the not so theoretical scenario. "Was she certain that there would be more deaths from these two killers? There are always other ways for bombs to be defused. Sometimes no one needs to be hurt."

"There was no other way brother. The very nature of these two killers would have never ceased until what compelled them was destroyed. Being a police detective, you should know that sometimes the situation demands that drastic measures must be taken. In some of us, the criminal characteristic can understand no less than complete annihilation. As for the bomb, I'm afraid that it was just too unstable to have been left unattended. It was necessary for it to be brought to its logical conclusion."

Fascinated, Schanke sat back up and leaned impatiently towards Roland.

"So she died while trying to stop the death of the others. Man O Man, now that was an admirable act of courage!"

"Yes it was, wasn't it? An offering of lasting value."

Suddenly, Nick stood up angrily, glaring at his brother, and challenging his judgment of the stories outcome.

"No! What good is this lasting value if it is eternally stained with innocent blood!"

Confused by Nick's violent reaction, Schanke stood up and confronted his partner. "Nick? Why are you yelling at Roland? He was just telling us a story."

Having brought his point across, Roland stood up to join the others and tried to smooth things over by apologizing. "I'm sorry if my topic disturbed you brother. I'll leave now, and let the two of you get back to your work. Take care of that sleeping beauty up there. I'm sorry that I didn't get a chance to meet her. Perhaps some other time, how about tomorrow night?"

Jumping in before Nick had time to reply, Schanke blurted out their plans. "No Nick can't see you then, we'll be protecting Orah while she does her last show here."

"Oh well, that does pose a bit of a problem. It seems that circumstances have made it such that I will not be able to stay in town much longer. I guess this means that this is good-bye brother. Tomorrow night will be my last night in town as well."

Nick smiled and nodded just as his partner lit up with excitement. "Hey, I have an idea. Roland can come with us. It will give us an extra pair of eyes and the two of you a chance to talk about old times."

Smiling broadly, Roland looked elated. "What a splendid idea Donny, and I can even get to see Orah as well!"

Harshly, Nick's words destroyed all the enthusiasm that had been generated by the two of them. "No, I'll be too busy. Roland and I can say our good-byes now."

"What's wrong with you Nick? Your brother is here whom you have not seen in how long? And he only wants a chance to spend a little time with you."

Throwing an annoyed glance at his partner, Nick concentrated on trying to speak calmly. "It is not a good idea. Trust me Schanke."

Not allowing the subject to drop, Roland eagerly chimed in. "I will not get in the way brother. I would love to see the two partners of the month in action."

"Come on Nick, he's a good guy."

Feeling his resolve weakening he turned to his partner. "Schanke, you have no idea what he is like, but I would rather know where he is than guess."

Roland flashed a contented smile. "Good, then it is settled. I'll meet the two of you tomorrow night at the show. It was nice meeting you Detective Schanke, and Nichola I do hope that we could be on better terms. Brothers really should appreciate their unique relationship."

Picking up his trench coat, Roland slid open the elevator's door and stepped inside. The two partners stood side by side as they watched the door close and heard the mechanical sounds that lowered the lift down the shaft towards the ground floor. After a long moment of silence, Nick turned and walked towards the kitchen with Schanke right on his heels. Thinking that his partner was way over the line with how inconsiderately he treated his brother, Schanke, in frustration, spoke up.

"What is with the two of you? What am I missing? He seems like he is trying Nick. Why don't you give him a chance?"

"You wouldn't understand Schanke. Some differences cannot be resolved. Some things never change."

"Not if you don't let them, and I think that you are wrong. He seems like a real nice guy to me."

"Then I guess that things are not always what they seem, now are they? Not everyone is what they seem to be."

The glare from Nick's eyes and the implied meaning of his last statement of really not knowing anyone, made Schanke feel uncomfortable. He turned to leave, but Nick reached out to stop him. Nervously, Schanke looked over at his partner.

"I was just going to check on Orah before I went back to the precinct."

Sighing heavily, Nick realized that Schanke would never understand his reasoning and he softened his tone.

"I'm sorry Schanke if I made you feel uneasy. In my family, we have our own ways of relating. Come here and look at this." Pulling a folded sheet from his coat pocket, he opened it and placed it on the counter. "I stopped by the precinct. The owner of the car rental agency gave a description of the woman who rented the car that killed Barrett. This is her. She used an alias and paid in cash. Luckily the other body guard, Marty Gilbert, recognized her from the picture. She is the woman whose child was killed in that accident in Buffalo a couple of weeks ago."

They both looked over towards the stairs as a soft voice interrupted them.

"Please, may I see the picture?"

Both Schanke and Nick looked at each other then back to Orah who was descending the stairs. Shrugging, Schanke picked up the composite, and met her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Do you recognize her?"

"No. I've never seen her before." Sadly, she ran her fingers over the artists sketch, then glanced across the room to see Nick coming towards her. "It was her daughter that died at my show?"

Reaching over, Nick gently pulled the paper from her hands. "It's not your fault. There was an accident. She was waiting outside with her daughter who was confined to a wheelchair to see your show. Her daughter was born with Cerebral Palsy, she had never walked. A car lost control on the icy roads, and plowed into the crowd. Her daughter's wheel chair was caught, and the girl was crushed underneath the vehicle."

Heavily she allowed the weight of her body to collapse to a sitting position on the bottom step. Through her tears, she tried to speak. "I didn't know. I might have been able to help. That poor woman. It is too much tragedy for one person to bear."

Stunned by the faith healer's reaction, Schanke interrupted. "That poor woman is trying to kill you!"

Looking up through her tears, her words like sobs broke through her cries. "She is trying to find peace. She suffers now because of my work."

Taking her arm, Nick helped to lift her back into a standing position. "Do not blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done for her."

Turning sharply to face him directly, she inhaled deeply and glared at him. "I could have been there. At least, I could have been there. Of all people, you should know how painful it is for her to live each day with conflict- never finding rest or harmony."

Backing away a few steps, Nick let her push past him and move towards the darkened glass of the window while his partner gave both of them a strange look. Moving closer to his partner, Schanke whispered to him. "What is she talking about Nick?"

"She sees what others do not, and feels what others cannot feel. We have to give her some time to reconcile all her thoughts and emotions."

Skeptically, Schanke looked across the room at her. "Fine, but I still think that this whole faith healing thing is a scam. But I can tell you one thing that is real. There's a woman out there looking for revenge, and she has followed her here. Don't you think that she will try again?"

"If she doesn't, then she will have come a long way for nothing, and done a lot of unnecessary acts with no resolution. We will be ready for tomorrow's show. You should be getting back to the precinct to make the arrangements for increased security. I will make sure that Orah gets safely to the show."

Crossing the room, Schanke picked up his coat and began to prepare for the frigid temperatures that awaited him outside. With a final glance at Orah, who was still staring out into the night, he decided against saying good night. Instead, he turned to give Nick a short wave indicating that he was leaving.

"So, I'll see you later Nick. Try to get her to get some more rest, and you should get some too."

"Thanks Schank, I will later. Orah might want to talk before sleeping again."

Schanke turned to leave, but Nick's voice stopped him. "And Schanke, if I ever go away and leave you here again, do not let anyone in, even if they say they are my Mother."

An apologetic smile flashed across Schanke's lips as he turned to take the elevator to the ground floor.

******

Again the snow had begun to fall on the already whitened city, but his full attention was on the courageous faith healer that he was escorting into the building for her final Toronto performance. The cold white flakes clung lightly to her dark hair, and were a pleasant contrast. Sunset had been almost three hours ago, but even during the sunlit hours he had not slept. He was too afraid to let his deep vampire slumber take over and allow her to fall into harm's path. There was no safe place or time for her. In danger by day by a mortal stalker, and by night by both mortal and immortal alike. Bracing himself for whatever the night would hold, he pulled her close as they pushed through the crowds and crossed the pavement that led to the front entrance. Flashing his badge, the officer at the door waved him in with his precious cargo, and he quickly scanned his surroundings. As Orah removed her Winter clothing, he once more tried to appeal to her sense of caution.

"Orah, let me take you back to my place until we catch this woman. This is only one show. We are talking about your life."

"Thank you for you offer Nicholas. I know that you mean well, but if I cannot help others then I do not have any reason to live."

With a hurt look in his eyes, he took her hand in his even though her touch burned him, and again pleaded to her.

"Orah, I cannot protect you from my own kind. Even if this woman is caught, you are in far more danger because of me."

Smiling lovingly at him, she slipped her hand from his and stepped closer to lightly kiss him on the cheek. He swallowed hard as he tried to not show the pain of even this gentle act of her kindness.

"I know Nicholas what you deny yourself by protecting me from harm. You have chosen to spurn an eternal desire because of your convictions, because of your faith."

"I am without a soul. I cannot afford the luxury of faith."

"But you do have it, don't you? You believe! Your belief is proof that you are not damned. You have faith, hope, and love. All of these are supernatural gifts. All of these gifts will lead you to the light. You would not be here persisting for so many years if your faith were not strong. What do you call this longing for the light? This intense feeling is your faith Nicholas."

Detaching a small gold pin from her dress, she opened it wide and plunged in deeply into her finger. Immediately a small red dome of blood formed at the site of the self-inflicted wound. Bewildered by her actions, he still could not tear his gaze from the sight of the fresh blood as it pooled in the palm of her upturned hand. Without hesitating, she extended her hand and offered a taste to him. Indecision gnawed at him, as he grabbed her hand by the wrist and nervously glanced around them.

"What are you doing?"

"Taste and you will understand why I must be here tonight. Taste what I am, what drives me. Taste the faith and know what I see and what I feel."

"This will not help me, it will only make the hunger stronger."

"No, you are wrong. This taste is for your soul, not for your physical body. Drink and you will be satiated."

Searching her eyes deeply, he then closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. All that he had suppressed became awakened as he cupped his hand under hers and slowly raised her delicate blood filled hand to his mouth. With his first sip, his eyes clenched closed even tighter as he felt intoxicated with her wonders. The feeling could only be described as floating on clouds while being bathed by the warmth of the sun. All emotion came to life as joy, love ,and warmth all wrapped themselves around him in a blanket of absolute freedom. Then came the waves of strength, power like he never felt- new and renewed vigor. All of this was within only a few drops of this holy one's blood. If there was ever any doubt that her blood could cure vampirism, there was none now. Never had he been a part of such profound powers. His eyes re-opened to her and revealed the intensity of the vampire's desire, yet the compulsion to kill was gone. Both man and beast stood content as he lowered her arm to her side.

"I can see your path Nicholas. It is bright and full of life. Though you now live in darkness, you must continue to have faith and hope. For it is in this darkness that G-d protects the soul. Do not ever give up. One day, you will be ready, and darkness will run from you."

Reaching out towards her again he called her name, but his voice trailed off.

"Orah........"

"Whatever happens Nicholas. I am not afraid. When my time comes, it will be to help another. My mission will be complete, and I will go in peace."

Pulling away from him, she crossed the room to the back stage door and locked it behind her. Standing stunned, in amazement, he could not speak. Without a doubt, he had been in the presence of true goodness, and she had found something redeemable in him. Deeply he inhaled, filling his lungs with the lingering remnants of her fragrance. As he continued to stare at the closed door, a hand crashed down on his shoulder from behind. Startled he spun around to see his partner.

"Where's our psychic?"

Stiffening at the sound of his partner's voice, he took in a breath.

"She is a faith healer Schanke, and she is getting ready in the back. How is everything here?"

"Everything is secure. There is no way that anything is going down tonight. Hey, come into the main room. Roland has been entertaining the uniforms. The guy's a scream. Are you sure you two are related?"

"We are from different families. I guess you could say that we are more like blood-brothers."

Grimacing, Schanke acted out the motions of sticking his finger. "You mean you did that mixing of blood ritual?"

"We were young Schank."

"Speaking of young, Roland keeps saying that he is your older brother, but he looks at least ten years younger than you."

"He is younger, but he was adopted first, so he claims to be my older brother. Now if you are through interrogating me Detective, I would like to take a look around for myself."

"Adopted first, yeah that makes sense."

Inhaling sharply, Nicholas tried to steel himself for yet another encounter with his brother. If his partner had not mentioned that Roland was in the adjoining room, he would never had known that he had already arrived. The elder vampire was a professional at hiding his presence when he so desired. It unquestionably gave Roland the advantage in the vampire community. It was clearly a skill that would have proven invaluable on numerous occasions. Though after seeing how his Father and Brother got along, it was apparent why LaCroix had withheld those instructions with his second try for an obedient son. Peering into the room, he was immediately snared by Roland, who placed a brotherly arm around his shoulders as he escorted him into the room.

"Nichola, you never told me what a great bunch of guys you work with. I can not thank you enough for inviting me here tonight."

Stiffening, Nick flashed an uncomfortable smile at everyone. "Yeah.... Roland I am happy that you are enjoying yourself, but these men have a job to do and so do I."

With Nick's words, the other officers began to disperse. Each took turns shaking hands with Roland or patting him on the back. It was easy to see that he certainly was well liked. When all had returned to their various positions throughout the room, Roland turned to throw an annoyed and disappointed gaze at Nick.

"Party pooper. You really do know how to kill everyone's fun."

"This is not a party Roland! We are here to protect a woman's life."

With a self confident smile, he slid closer to his brother and whispered. "You are here for that. I, on the other hand, have a different agenda."

Maintaining the whispered sound level, Nick angrily sneered at his brother. "I will not allow you to harm her. You will have to kill me to get to her. I......"

Suddenly, Roland looked up, interrupted his brother's warnings, and loudly called out. "DONNY! Nichola has been telling me of some of your fine work."

"Yeah, sure, Roland. I haven't seen the two of you go one sentence without fighting."

Turning to Nick, Roland smiled. "He knows us too well brother. I guess we will just have to kill him."

With eyes wide in panic, Nick stared at his brother.

"That was a joke brother, don't go giving yourself a nervous breakdown."

A short laugh escaped Schanke, as he turned to his partner. "Yeah Knight, loosen up a bit."

Throwing his brother a distrustful glare, Nick then turned to Schanke. "I will loosen up as soon as this case is over."

Walking behind Schanke, Roland slapped the mortal detective on the back. "I wouldn't bet on that if I were you." Both of their laughter filled the room as Nick looked away. Then, becoming even more serious, he pulled Schanke off to the side.

"Tell me what precautions have been taken. How secure are we?"

"Well, let's see. There are men posted in front and out back. Every window has been sealed closed. We had the bomb squad with their dogs here about ten minutes before you arrived."

"What about the people who will be seeing the show?"

"We have the list of every ticket holder. Only ticket holders will be allowed in for tonight's show. We investigated every name, and they all checked out. Only old and sick people, no one dangerous or matching our suspect's description."

"Good" Rubbing at his eyes and forehead, he calmed a bit before talking to his partner again. "You have no idea Schanke, how much I want this night to be over."

"Calm down Nick, this is a piece of cake. Tomorrow Orah will be someone else's problem."

As Schanke crossed the room to talk to the other officers, Nick stood silently against the wall only moving his eyes as he carefully began to scrutinize the layout of the room. Re-playing Schanke's words, he sighed. Hopefully Orah will be alive to be someone else's problem tomorrow. Somehow he knew that if the perp did not get her, his brother, or LaCroix would. He could feel it. Even though everything appeared to be under control, he knew that this was only the calm before the storm.

Sharpening his senses, Nick looked up as the first of the ticketed guests began to cross through the entrance. Checking the clock on the wall, he saw that the show was to begin in ten minutes. The room was beginning to become loud with conversation, and with the moving of chairs. He felt Roland move to his side as one by one he tried to listen to each heartbeat. Searching for any indication of nervousness that would give her away. His partner had been correct, most of the crowd consisted of elderly people who were wrapped in layers of clothes many who wore thick glasses and heavy winter hats. There was no way he could see many of their features, and now with over two hundred in the filled room, he could not distinguish one heartbeat from another. The anxiety level had risen throughout the room as the time for Orah's appearance approached. Suddenly a hush fell across the room as the light began to dim and the long heavy curtains began to open. One bright ray of light shone down on the woman in the center of the stage, as the standard faith healer introduction was read. In a matter of minutes, Orah stood and announced that she was ready to begin. As the lights in the room were slowly brightened, the spell binding lady glided down the stairs, and towards the center of the room. A grateful cry escaped a young woman as Orah's hand touched her head. Hanging on every word, Nick absorbed the woman's story of depression and attempted suicides. Carefully watching Orah's treatment of the woman, he would have sworn that he saw the darkness that made her soul heavy depart from her body. Mesmerized, he watched as the faith healer seemed to float to the next person only a few seats away. Another case of blindness that was explosively cured by hands and the chants of all those in attendance. The evening wore on as dozens of followers begged for Orah's divine attention. Orah began to look fatigued, and Nick could see how each successful cure diminished her energy. Although he wished to intercede, he knew that she would not stop until her body would not let her stand. Moving back towards the stage, she suddenly stopped, and stood curiously before an elderly woman who was draped in rags. And, although, many reached out to pull her towards them, she could not help but be drawn to this soul. Standing before the old woman, she placed both hands on her shoulders. The action caused her to fold in pain, but she rapidly recovered causing Nick to remain in his position on the other side of the room. Feeling extremely uncomfortable now, Nick turned anxiously towards Roland who quietly stood a meter from him. A strange feeling gripped him, and he began to make a quick glance around the entire room. His eyes rested on every person for a few seconds until they stopped at the back of the room. Officer Claymon was not at his post, he was gone. But in his place stood a familiar one dressed in police attire who nodded his recognition. LaCroix! Shock paralyzed him for an instant, but then he frantically turned his attention back towards Orah, just in time to view the old woman slowly rise with her gun pointed at the faith healer. All the officer's ran towards the hostage scene, but the distraught woman screamed out.

"GO AWAY! Everyone go away!" Turning towards Orah she became consumed in tears as the gun shook in her hand.

"You caused my little girl to die! She was all I had in the world. I only wanted for her to have a chance to be like other children, but she died and now you are going to die too."

Without moving, Orah spoke softly. "I know how much you miss your child. I can feel your pain. I am sorry for all the suffering that I have caused you. If my death will ease your pain, then I gladly accept your decision."

"You are trying to trick me, to confuse me. Don't you understand that I can not go on like this? Don't you understand that my life is over?" The gun shook uncontrollably as Orah moved closer to the woman and embraced her. Violently the woman pushed her away, then smiled at Orah.

"Thank you, Orah. Thank you for your help. Now, I know what I must do."

At that moment Nick pushed his way through the crowd only to hear the gun go off, and to see both women fall to the ground. As he pulled them apart he yelled out.

"Call the paramedics!"

He could see that the child's mother had turned the gun on herself at the last moment, and had given herself a fatal wound. As she gasped for her final breaths, Orah screamed for everyone to move back. Sitting herself up, Orah pulled the woman into her arms. Then, carefully, she placed her hands over the bleeding gunshot hole. Closing her eyes, she seemed as if she were summoning all the powers in Heaven and Earth. Clenching her eyes and her mouth, she began to sway until she suddenly screamed out and fell backwards to the ground. Kneeling down beside her, Nick gathered her into his arms. The elderly woman was unconscious but fully healed. While Orah lay dying from a gunshot wound that she had transferred to herself. Devastated, he touched the spot where the last of her blood escaped, and he sadly looked into her pain filled eyes.

"Why Orah?..........Why?"

"She needed my help Nicholas. That is why."

"But you will die now."

"It is my time. I have completed my destination, but you have not. Never give up on your faith Nicholas, for it is that faith that will lead you to that which you seek."

As she finished speaking her words of encouragement to Nick, she fell lifelessly against him. The last beat of her heart was still resounding in his ears as his partner looked down at them.

"How in Hell are we going to explain this?"

"Simple Schanke. She fulfilled her purpose, and it was her time."

Feeling as though he were caught in a world in which everything began to move in slow motion, he gently laid her body on the floor and stood up to face Schanke.

"Take care of things here, I have to speak with my brother."

After pushing through the onlookers, he searched the back of the room for his Master, but he was gone. Moving out into the hall, he stepped aside, as the paramedics came rushing through. A familiar vibration surrounded him, and he twisted to see his brother sitting on a marble set of stairs that led up to the second floor of the old building. With a dispirited heart, he sat next to his brother.

"You allowed me to feel that you were still here."

"Well, I figured why not, we are brothers you know."

"She is dead Roland."

"Yes, I know and her blood has been defiled. She is no longer ritually pure."

"You may not believe this Roland, but I am sorry"

Reaching around his brother, Roland put his arm over his shoulders. "There is always next time." He smiled.

"You do know Roland that LaCroix was behind this?"

"Of course! It's part of the game. The old boy wouldn't have it any other way!" Standing up, he walked down the couple of steps and headed for the door. Glancing up, Nick called after him. "Roland!"

Stopping in his tracks, he turned back to face Nick. "Roland, I would not have changed my mind about killing her."

A smile lit up the elder brother's features.

"Neither would I"

Again he turned to move towards the now quiet entrance, but stopped and looked back.

"You're not rid of me yet you know? I'll be back, and when I do come back, I have a few little tricks to teach you that Daddy somehow left out. Give my love to Janette, and take care of that partner of yours."

Nick nodded and a smile crossed his face as he watched his brother leave and he felt a renewed respect for him. Then, in an instant, Roland had vanished into the night. Nick dropped his gaze to the floor, and sat with his hands clasped in front of him.

Several minutes passed until he was awaken from his thoughts by Natalie's voice and soft touch as she placed her hand on his.

"Nick, Nick are you all right?"

Looking up at her through half closed eyes, he softly whispered. "I'm fine Nat."

"I'm sorry to hear about Orah, I know that you believed that she really could have been the answer. I've been called in to explain her death, and I am really going to need your help on this one. The reports that have come in say that she willed the bullet out of the suspect's body and placed it in her own."

"That is what happened."

"Are you telling me that this is not a murder, but a suicide?"

"Not a suicide Nat, an act of kindness. An act of faith!"

Taking her hand, he lovingly squeezed it between his. "Nat, her death helped me to believe in myself. She proved to me that no matter what the prize, that my convictions would prevail. I could not take her life, even in exchange for my most cherished desire. I did everything in my power to save her, and now I am positive that I have just taken one of those small steps in regaining my humanity."

The End