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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good morning, Urs," Nick said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick grinned. "So close your eyes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sure," she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part 7

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