This is the fourth installment of my 'Dreams' series. The previous stories are archived on my website (www.crosswinds.net/~kannegun). It is not necessary to have read the previous ones, but it will make it easier to follow. This story begins several weeks following 'Dreams and a new life'. By my fictional alternate timeline it is February 1999.
Disclaimers: Characters and situations in this story were inspired by 'Forever Knight' and are the property of Sony/Columbia- TriStar. I intend no harm to them and promise to put them back... they'll just be a little happier than when last we saw them.
Permission granted to archive at www.fkfanfic.com, the DarkNN site and the ftp site. Anyone else interested, please ask....
CHAPTER EIGHT (continued)
****
"So who was in the office with you?" Nick asked leaning back
on the park bench. They'd decided that lunch in a park offered more privacy than
either of their offices. With February's cold winds whipping off Lake Ontario, there
were not very many other people along the walkway overlooking the lake.
"The new guy," she responded, taking another drink from the silver flask they were sharing. "His name is Tim."
"And your impression so far?"
"I haven't seen him do a case yet, so I'll reserve judgement," she shrugged.
"But he made a pass at you," Nick stated calmly.
"No, he didn't! He might have looked at me a bit longer than normal, but I put a kibosh on any of those kind of thoughts."
"Sure about that?" he grinned, pulling her closer to him.
"I'll take care of it, Nick," she declared. The last thing she needed right now was to have her husband's jealous nature drive yet another pathologist out of Toronto. She had already gotten one ME demoted, a story she was sure that Tim had been told. She did not want to see her department remain short-handed forever.
CHAPTER NINE
The call came shortly after Natalie had signed in. 'Body in a dumpster' she mumbled. "Again." The duty roster had been printed and laid carefully in the middle of her desk blotter.
They had begun the new system of assignments a week earlier. So far, she found herself being called as 'consultant' on more cases than she dreamt possible. The captains seemed to enjoy having her come to the scene, even if she was not the one to do the autopsy. She was more likely than any of her colleagues to make a declaration immediately. And she'd yet to be proven wrong. If she said it was homicide, it was. That her enhanced sense told her more about a death than any mortal pathologist would ever discern was her own secret. So far, she endured the work with good grace, figuring that when the officers got used to the different coroners, she would not be called as much.
The junior coroners on duty were Tim and Brian. And naturally, as the newest addition to the Toronto office, Tim had the lightest load. That meant that Natalie would have to go along, since Tim was still considered probationary.
Pulling her coat off the rack, Natalie then hit the intercom. As soon as the crackle and green light told her that it had been answered, she announced, "I'm going to a scene with Tim. Page me if anything else comes in."
"Will do, Natalie," the disembodied voice responded and the light flickered off.
She'd just gotten to the parking lot, when she heard her name being called. Turning, she saw Tim hurrying toward her, calling out "Can we ride together?"
"Oh, sure," she replied, feeling a bit embarrassed that she had not thought to suggest it. "You understand that this is your case?"
"And you're just along for the ride," he joked. "You've been doing a lot of that lately."
"This had nothing to do with your skills," she began.
"I know," he said emphatically, opening the passenger door of her car. "I'm new in town. I have to prove myself. Don't sweat it."
*****
The confident demeanor of the newest Toronto ME should have struck her
as odd, Natalie would later realize. No matter how much pathology one studied in
school, or how many minor cases one did with a small jurisdiction posting, the Toronto
homicide division was not for the meek. This case was a perfect example. The sheer
brutality of the scene was enough to sicken anyone. Natalie's reaction was a different
matter altogether, but no less distressing.
The blood scent was thick in the air and drew her like moth to a flame. The tingling sensation that preceded her fang's descent forced her into monosyllabic responses as she fought to control her urges.
Tim seemed unaffected as he approached the scene with a cold detachment. Thankful that she was there as a supervisor and not the case coroner, Natalie hung back and allowed her enhanced senses to absorb the scene.
"Well?" she prompted, seeing Tim step off the ladder that leaned against the dumpster.
Giving her a shrug, he announced, "this one doesn't take a rocket scientist to declare."
"Oh?" she questioned. Now she *really* needed to look.
"Well, he's in at least four pieces. There ain't nothing natural about it." Gesturing to the ladder, he stood back so that Natalie could take a look.
"Hmmm, yeah," Natalie mumbled, peering at the scattered limbs that were no longer attached to the torso. This close, the aroma was heavy, enticing. She could see the pools of thick, congealed blood that had flowed from the various limbs. It called to her, stirred her hunger. She could almost taste it in the air.
With a firm gesture to the attendants who were already dressed in protective garb, she climbed down the ladder. Covering her mouth, she headed to the edge of the lit area, and placed a hand against the brick building to support her.
It was there that Nick found her, seemingly in a trance while activity continued all around her.
"Nat?" he approached her carefully. He had a good idea why she was on the fringes. He'd smelt the blood, tasted death in the air. It had stirred his senses but he'd been able to quell the instinctual desires.
"Nick?" she whispered gazing up at him. The hint of amber was still evident in her eyes, but it was not the pure amber that had forced her to stay away from her mortal colleagues. She'd never been so glad to see him at a crime scene. Even the serial case that she'd done the previous year had not been this bad.
"Are you going to be okay?" he asked softly. No need to ask anything else. He knew what the problem was.
"I... I think so," she murmured. "It's ugly."
"I can tell," he said grimly. "Are you supervising, or is this your case?"
"Supervising," she replied. "Go on, see what they have to report, then we can talk." A few minutes with Nick had given her the strength and control to walk back to the van that awaited its passenger, who was now shrouded in a black vinyl body-bag.
"You ready to head back?" Tim asked briskly, seeing Natalie standing by the van. She had disappeared momentarily, and then he'd seen her talking to her husband in the shadows.
"Have you given a report to the detectives?"
"What's there to say? Its fairly obvious isn't it?" he said casually. "And isn't that what you were doing?"
"No, it isn't. So, humor me then. TOD? Was he dismembered before or after death? Was he killed in the dumpster or just dumped there?" she fired the questioned rapidly, taking momentary delight in his deflated expression.
"Well, ummm, I don't know," he confessed.
"Then it isn't so obvious, is it?" she replied. Much as her mentor in the coroner's office had taught her to dig deeper, she was now pushing her newest colleague to search beyond the obvious. "That is what the detectives need to know. I'll give you a hint. I would guess that he was dismembered while alive, in that dumpster."
"How... how do you know that?" he asked, shocked that she could say that with such certainty. She'd barely looked at the body, and had only glanced into the dumpster for a moment.
"The pooling of blood. If he'd been killed first, there wouldn't be any blood coming from those limbs. The beating heart would be needed to pump that blood out... think about what happens when the heart stops." her voice trailed off as she thought of the people she'd killed as a vampire. She had needed the beating heart to pump the blood to the neck. It was something that she did seldom, and most often had been in a hospice situation, but she had killed. She had felt the sudden stillness of a heart that no longer had blood to pump. She knew that a heart that did not beat would yield no more blood.
"You saw all that, in just one glance?" he questioned.
"I've done enough of these, I'll show you a few things." Her laugh was bitter. This death had been a waste. All that blood...
"Oh? From your reaction, I didn't think you'd seen anything like this."
"Tim, I've been in this business ten years," she responded, her voice heavy with thoughts of other cases through the years. "It would be hard to shock me, but I'll clue you in on one thing. Some cases are easier than others. Some days are easier than others."
"I stand corrected," he said sheepishly, closing his bag and looking toward the group of detectives who were discussing the case with Nick. "What should I tell them?"
"What you know, what you'll be looking for in your exam." She waved at Nick and began to walk closer to the officers. "They don't expect answers immediately. That's why its called an investigation. We investigate. Search for the answers."
*****
It was a long night. Cases such as this were never straightforward. Much
as she enjoyed a challenge, Natalie had begun to be cynical about the more gruesome
aspects of her job. Or maybe it was the prospect that she would not simply remain
a forensic pathologist until old enough to retire. In many ways, she was emotionally
starting to cut ties to her profession. She knew, even if Nick did not say it directly,
that it would not be practical to *always* be a pathologist. After all, he'd been
a cop, a teacher and lord knows what else...
Doing the case as a team was easier in some ways. She had to admit that Tim was fairly perceptive. Unlike the previous time that she'd worked with a rookie pathologist, she felt fairly optimistic that Tim would be a good addition to the office. His technique, while more tentative than hers, was competent and he seemed willing to discuss how to proceed and what his findings were.
Natalie had, at one time, enjoyed the dual approach to complex cases. But that was before. Before the changes in her life made having an observer in any fairly fresh post-mortem exam difficult. By the time the autopsy was completed, the tingling sensation in her mouth had become a throbbing. Suppressing her fangs descent was a losing battle. Excusing herself quietly, Natalie strode swiftly to her office. Thankfully, they'd done the case in Tim's lab so she could escape for nourishment.
Draining two bags, she leaned against the cold steel cooler, feeling the energy return as the blood was absorbed into her system. Too late, she realized that she'd neglected to lock the door behind her. She heard the approach of a mortal heartbeat with barely time to toss the empty donor bags into the hazardous waste bin.
Grace entered the room and flicked on the light, jumping slightly at Natalie's steady gaze from across the room. "Nat? What are you doing in here?" Glancing around the lab, she set her tray of slides on the counter. "I thought you were upstairs doing a post with Tim."
"I needed a break. We've done the internal and he's closing up." Natalie turned away and stretched, as if an aching back and not aching fangs had driven her to hide in a darkened lab.
"Sure about that?" Grace narrowed her eyes, studying Natalie's movements. "You feeling okay? I mean, I know it was ugly, but you've seen worse."
"Yeah, I'll be fine. Really. I just needed to go the bathroom, get a snack." It was close to the truth, at least as close as she'd ever get.
"Find anything good? Last time I checked, your fridge didn't have anything remotely edible."
"Ah, but I bet you didn't look all the way in the back of my specimen cooler. The secret compartment of chocolate."
"And you didn't save any?" Grace chastised. "You know I don't have a key to that cooler." Eyeing her friend suspiciously, she retorted, "And I bet that's why you hide it there."
"I'll share," Natalie grinned, pulling the keys out of her pocket. She had left a stash of chocolate there just for the purpose of fooling Grace. She could only hope that it wasn't stale since it had been there since Tracy's last visit to the morgue as a mortal six months ago.
Handing Grace the plastic container with a faint smile, she breathed, "Food of the Gods."
Opening the container, Grace gasped. "Godiva truffle? Oh my, Natalie. You weren't kidding. You sure you want to share this?"
"Yes, go ahead," Natalie instructed, crossing the room to sit at her desk. Opening the bottom drawer, she pulled out a pair of ceramic mugs. She was anticipating that coffee would be next. In the past year, she'd learned how much blood she needed to add to the coffee to make it palatable as well as how to conceal the fact that she no longer guzzled the warm caffeine laden beverage.
"Want one?" Grace asked, holding out the plastic bowl.
"Not now. I need to see how Tim is doing before I get too far into paperwork." She took the container and put it back into the small refrigerator, locking the door behind her.
"Since when is chocolate considered official evidence?" Grace laughed, seeing that Natalie had put the chocolate in a cooler labeled 'Forensic Evidence Only'.
"Can you think of a better place for my secret stash?" Natalie teased.
"Only *you* would hide chocolate with blood and tissue specimens." Both women whirled to see Tracy Vetter leaning against the steel autopsy table.
"Tracy Vetter. It has been *way* too long," Grace greeted her with an enthusiastic hug. "How's Mikey? Got any pictures?"
"So what brings you to my bed and breakfast?" Natalie asked after Tracy had allowed Grace to gush over baby pictures. "I thought you were still on desk duty."
"I am," she sighed. "For two more weeks."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Grace asked, not sure how to interpret the younger woman's expression. They all knew how Tracy's father had a large role in her being permitted to remain on light duty for so long. Most other cops coming back from a maternity leave would have either been back at their regular posting or have taken a transfer long before.
"Well, that's why I'm here," Tracy confessed. "Do you have a few minutes, Nat?"
"I guess that's my cue," Grace responded. This sounded very much like a mother-to- mother type discussion. Since being partnered with Natalie's husband, Tracy had developed a bond that Grace did not share, and did not fully understand. "I've got specimens awaiting me in the histology lab. Call me if you need anything, Nat. We'll do coffee another time."
"Sure, Grace." Natalie nodded, following Grace to the door and clicking the lock. "OK Tracy, let me check on Tim and then I'm all yours."
Pulling a chair next to the desk, Tracy leaned on her elbows, absorbing the sensations and aromas within the morgue. It was something she'd have to get used to being around if she was to return to the homicide division. The months spent doing research had been helpful in allowing her to gain control of her enhanced abilities, but also raised questions in her mind.
"Now then, what can I do for you, Tracy?" Natalie broke her reverie with a softly spoken question. Startled, Tracy met her calm gaze. Now that she was here, how to begin?
Rising from the chair, she began restlessly pacing around the room. Natalie followed her movement from the desk. She knew that Tracy would talk eventually and had a good idea what was troubling her. How she could be a vampire and work in the company of mortals, surrounded by blood. How she could be a good mother and yet work full time.
"How do you do it?" she finally asked, staring at the shining surface of the autopsy table.
"Do what?" Natalie prompted. As the day approached for Tracy to return to active duty, she had anticipated this discussion. She only hoped that her words would be enough.
"This!" she exclaimed, whirling and rapidly striding over to the desk. Leaning on the outstretched arms, she said softly, "Natalie, I'm scared. I don't have Nick as a partner. I may not have you as the coroner. What if I start to change? What if the smell...?"
"It's okay, really it is," Natalie soothed. "I'm not perfect. I still change sometimes when I don't want to. My control is not as good as Nick's is. I changed at that scene tonight."
"Really?" Tracy breathed, incredulous at the confession. "What did you do, then?"
"It's simple, really. No one need know, if you're careful. Close your eyes, think of more pleasant things. Remove yourself from the immediate area." Seeing the faint amber glow creeping into Tracy's eyes Natalie pulled a pair of mugs back out of her drawer. This time she had the black mugs that she used for blood. She purposely color coded her mugs so that Grace did not inadvertently get blood.
Tracy had begun to picture herself at a particularly bloody crime scene. She wondered why she'd never noticed either of them showing any reaction. Her thoughts and the conversation were calling attention to the underlying scents in the morgue and it was hard to hide her growing hunger. It scared her sometimes how the hunger could hit so quickly.
Natalie stood and crossed to the large cooler where the lab's blood supplies were kept. Taking a donor bag from the back, she snipped the tubing and poured the contents into two ceramic mugs. "Here, have a drink, Trace,"
"And that's enough?"
"Yes, it's enough."
"It's not just the job," Tracy confessed. The blood had calmed her, allowed her to focus her thoughts. Would it always be like this? "Javier and I have been talking and ummm, he really does want to try running a club. Do you honestly think that LaCroix would turn over any control of the Raven?"
"All we can do is ask," Natalie said thoughtfully. "But if approached in the right way, he might even welcome it."
"And what is the *right* way?" Tracy teased.
"For that, ask Nick," she replied firmly. "I can't figure that man out. Nick's got a lot more experience with him. Truthfully, its only been in the last three years that he and I have been civil to each other." Her voice became more reflective. "He's helped me in ways that Nick never could."
Tracy looked at her sharply. From her expression and tone, that could mean only one thing. In the short time that she'd been a vampire, she'd learned quickly about Nick's long standing quest and reluctance to kill. Natalie had hinted that she had fed from a living mortal...
"He taught you to hunt?" Tracy whispered. Her low tone at any mention of their lifestyle reflected her nervousness to speak publicly of it.
"He taught me to respect my emotions, my abilities, and most of all, my heritage." Pausing to take a drink, she admitted, "And, yes, it took me out to relieve some anger."
"And?" Tracy prompted.
"Do I really need to spell it out?"
"I guess not," she responded, fighting to hide the disappointment. She'd hoped that Natalie would share more. In some ways, she still felt unsettled, unsure of herself. Early in her vampiric life, Vachon had shown her how to 'sample the locals' and then hide her kill. Somehow, it seemed so much more sordid than Natalie's descriptions, however vague.
Refilling their mugs, Natalie leaned back, giving the younger woman an appraising look. She knew that Tracy really wanted to hear exactly how and when she'd killed. It was not something that she was really anxious to relive- even for Tracy. It did point to how Tracy's training was not as exacting as Natalie's had been. Well, it was hard to find someone more willing to expound upon the virtues of life as a vampire than LaCroix. "Was their anything else?"
"Well, ummm, when you came back to work, you said something about practicing. Do you think that you could, umm, set something up for me?"
"Of course, I'd be happy to. Nick is off this weekend, so I'll have him pick you up."
"Just like we were still partnered," she observed.
CHAPTER TEN
Taking a deep breath, Tracy got out of the car and glanced over to Nick. It felt so real having him with her. They'd been to so many homicide scenes over the years that this felt natural... not like a 'simulation'.
"Ready?" he asked sharply, hearing her ragged breath. It didn't take too much intuition to sense that she was nervous.
"I guess."
"Tracy, I won't lie to you. It won't always be easy, but it is worse if you're afraid. You *have* to approach a scene with confidence. If you think you'll lose control, you will."
She straightened and flashed him a broad smile. "Now *that* sounds like my partner!" Following him deeper into the woods, she felt herself slide into 'professional' mode. Going to a crime scene with Nick was natural, familiar. "So what's the story?"
"Gunshots heard," he said tersely.
"Way out here?"
"Come on Tracy, work with me," he rolled his eyes. The entire point of this exercise would be nullified if she did not believe herself to be in public.
"Nick, I'm just teasing," Tracy protested. She made an obvious move to check her weapon, just as she'd always done when approaching a crime scene. Their eyes met, briefly. She could hear voices, sense the presence of other vampires as they entered a clearing.
Reflected in the moonlight, Tracy saw a pooling of blood that trailed across the hard packed dirt. Lying at the edge of a grassy patch was a young woman with an obvious gaping wound in her shoulder. Blood continued to ooze from the wound. The scent drew Tracy as she stared in fascination.
Shaking her head to clear her mind, Tracy remembered why she was here. She was a cop. She was supposed to figure out why this happened. "Nick, over here," Tracy called out, rushing to her side. Instinctively she felt for a pulse in the woman's neck. "Call it in," she directed, seeing Nick standing several feet behind her.
"What? Paramedics or coroner?" he asked, his voice even and serious, although she could sense his amusement.
"Oh, um, right," she paused, giggling as she realized where she was, and that she'd just thought of doing CPR on a vampire. She'd become so caught up in the scene that she'd forgotten where she was, what she was.
"Well, I'd say that you passed that one," Nick said dryly, extending a hand to the 'victim'. "Thanks, Vicky," he said, handing the woman an envelope. "Natalie has food at the cabin for everyone."
"No problem, happy to help," Vicky nodded, slipping a folded paper into Nick's hand before taking off into the night sky.
"Next?" Tracy prompted. She'd assumed that Nick was being told where the next scenario was being set up.
"Stabbing, walk north 200 meters" he announced, giving Tracy a sharp look. "Doing okay?"
"Yes, Nick. I feel fine," she said with an exasperated voice.
*****
Two stabbings, another gunshot and a mutilation later, the pair of detectives
arrived at a cabin, deep in the woods, far from any road. So far, Tracy had suppressed
her instincts, her desires. It was taking a toll though, and she hoped that this
was the last one.
To her surprise, all of the 'victims', now healed came out on the porch and stood with Natalie, cheering.
"Congrats, Trace, you did good." Natalie announced, handing her a glass bottle that she uncorked as she walked down the path. She knew better than anyone how hungry this activity would make her.
"So we're done?" Tracy asked with surprise.
"How often do you go to five scenes in one night, all fresh," Nick asked.
"We-e-e-l-l," she hesitated. "Never to my knowledge."
"Exactly," he nodded. "So if you can handle this, you'll be fine. Just don't forget to drink something on the way. Keep a thermos in the car."
"Ah, good thinking. I didn't think a flask would work," she teased.
"No.. I don't think it would," Natalie agreed. She turned to the other vampires present, "We've arranged for supplies for everyone to be available at the Raven and your drinks tonight are on us. Check in with Miklos."
"And Javier is waiting at the club for you," Nick said to Tracy.
****
The band was still playing when they arrived at the club. Nick had left
the caddy parked behind the club before they went to the cabin. By conventional transportation,
the cabin was a good four hours north of Toronto. Using 'alternative' transportation,
it was merely a half hour flight.
Landing on the roof, Tracy unexpectedly gave Nick a hug. "Thanks, partner," she said softly. "For everything."
"I'm still here if you need me," he assured her, opening the stairwell door and leading the way down to the club. He gave Vachon a wave as they entered through the back door. Tracy knew that there were private areas in the building, but had never been through them.
They'd barely taken their seats at their usual back booth, when the waitress brought three full goblets and a note.
"What now?" Natalie asked, seeing LaCroix's handwriting.
Unfolding it and scanning the note quickly, he shrugged. "He just wants to talk."
"Uh huh," Natalie said with obvious suspician. She was still wary of LaCroix's motives.
It was nearly closing time when LaCroix emerged from the broadcast booth. By then Nick had relaxed to the point where he'd joined the band on stage for a little impromptu jam session. Natalie had never seen him so at ease with the 'others'. At the few community meetings that they'd attended together, Nick always seem on edge, as if not truly feeling like he belonged.
"Good evening, Natalie," LaCroix greeted, sliding into the bench seat opposite her. "Is this a new hobby?" he nodded toward the stage where Nick had just finished an extended piano solo.
"Music? No, I don't think so. Playing in public? You tell me," she replied, filling his goblet from the bottle they had set on the table. He seemed to be in a more sociable mood than usual. It was so seldom that she got to hear *his* side of their past.
"I must admit that, no, it is not *new*. It is, shall we say, *unusual*. I don't think I've seen him on stage for a long, long time." His expression became reflective as his voice took on the melodious quality that meant a story was forthcoming. She'd only heard it in conjunction with his radio program, and she leaned forward, attentive to his words.
"Oh?" she questioned, signaling the waitress for another bottle, an unspoken request for him to stay.
"Well, you realize he had studied with most of the great masters." He frequently performed on stage as a student of Beethoven. Ah, such talent..." his voice trailed off and he was silent for a moment, reflecting on his memories.
They were still sitting in mutual silence when Nick bounded across the dance floor and up to the second level booth. Kissing Natalie lightly on the forehead, he scooted into the booth next to her and eyed LaCroix with open curiosity. "Is there something you need from me?"
"Not exactly," he spoke deliberately. "I am pleased to see you here. It has been a while."
"I suppose," Nick replied. "I've been busy."
"Ah, yes. The promotion," he intoned. "So then, how is it to be in command?"
"I'm doing fine," Nick said quickly.
"Really?" he asked with obvious skepticism.
"Yes, really." Nick was emphatic, forceful in his expression and words.
"I'm just asking," LaCroix protested. "I did not intend to question your ability to lead your troops."
"Do I detect a note of envy, LaCroix?"
"You know that is not my style, Nicholas. Yes, I was once a general, a leader of men, but that was a very, very long time ago. Very few of our kind can successfully maintain the façade under the public scrutiny that comes with a command."
"And your point?" Nick sighed. He knew that his sire was less than enthused with his police position, and had strenuously objected to his acceptance of the promotion.
"I was merely inquiring on your success and happiness. Believe it or not, I have no ulterior motives here."
"Oh," Nick replied, chastened.
"If anyone could do this, it is you, mon fils," he said softly. "Now then, you seem to be much more at ease with the young ones. I did not realize that you had so many friends within the community." It was a ploy, Nick knew, to get information. LaCroix always wanted to know everything that went on within the community.
"Blame Tracy for that," Natalie interjected. She'd wisely stayed out of the discussion when it appeared they were headed toward past conflicts.
"Oh? And just how does your former partner figure into the picture?" he was well aware that the young woman had been converted. She came to the club frequently with Vachon, and had made suggestions to Miklos for snack items that were becoming strong sellers. Having the input of one so familiar with the 'club' scene might be profitable.
"She's going back on active duty and wanted to test her control." Natalie explained. "So we recruited a few of the young ones that did not mind being stabbed or shot."
"For a fee," Nick interjected.
"And free food," Vachon added, pulling a chair up to their table. "Good playing, Knight. Ever thought of being a regular?"
"Yes, Nicholas, would you consider doing this again?" LaCroix took the opening and added his two cents. Turning to LaCroix, he inquired politely, "So you are booking the talent now?"
"Not exactly, Sir," Vachon said quickly. He knew better than to annoy the ancient. "It was just an idea. I hoped you would not mind me suggesting it."
"Not at all. It's a very good idea. You've played here long enough that I believe you know our clientele's tastes."
"Yeah, I think that I do." He paused, as if collecting his courage. "I may know music, but there are other things to running a club that I don't know."
"And you aspire to managing a club?" LaCroix inquired politely, deliberately.
"Eventually, maybe in our next life," he began. "I would never *compete* with you. I, uh, want to uh, learn from you." He took a deep breath, as if in relief.
"Interesting thought." LaCroix uncorked the bottle that had just appeared on their table. "I shall think on it. And Nicholas, you've not answered our earlier question."
"Maybe," Nick replied thoughtfully. "We'll talk."
"Hmm... if I agree to take on your friend as an official employee, you would consider playing one or two evenings?" He raised an eyebrow at Nick's expression. He knew that it was an agreement that he would profit from in many ways. And he knew that Nick would do it...........
