"What is the meaning of this," he demanded, a white-knuckled grasp of Corda's shoulder prohibiting her rape of his child.
"Your offspring are incorrigible," Corda shouted.
His hand shot out. Tracy blinked, and would have ducked if she could have moved. But he didn't strike her. Instead, he flicked one of her tears with a finger and tasted it. "Bloodwine," he stated. "Where did you get this, Tracy!"
"It was a... a gift, from him," she stuttered. Her head hurt.
"You give an infant wine, then dare to complain when she acts like a fool! Get out of my club! Now!"
Corda glared at him. Caspian was carefully expressionless as he looked from his sister to his one-time friend. He tugged on Corda's sleeve, but she didn't move. He put both hands on her shoulders then and shook her firmly. "It is time to go," he said.
Corda tightened her hold on Tracy, leaving bruises on her shoulders, then released her. Tracy's knees gave out and she would have fallen, but LaCroix caught her. His arms felt strong and protective. She laid her head against his shoulder, wondering if she closed her eyes if the spinning would be better or worse.
LaCroix stared at at the door until Caspian and Corda were gone. Then he turned to the band. "I don't pay you to gawk. The side show's over, everyone."
Vachon started another song, and slowly, Tracy heard the muffled noises of a dozen conversations. LaCroix carried her up the dark stairs to his apartment.
"I'm sorry, dad," she cried, the tears flowing again. "I don't know what happened. I'm so sorry!"
He carried her into her room. He pulled the covers down and laid her in her bed.
"You aren't mad at me? Aren't you going to punish me?"
LaCroix chuckled. "My dear, my anger was with Caspian, not you. And you will punish yourself enough in the morning. Now get some sleep."
Tracy sat up, although the motion nearly made her upchuck. "I'm really sorry," she whispered.
His chin lifted in acknowledgement. "Good day, Tracy."
The following afternoon Tracy understood fully what LaCroix had meant. Her head was splitting, and she spent half an hour in the bathroom vomitting up the wine. She felt like crying, but was too weak to spare the tears. There was no way she could go in to work feeling like this! A knock sounded at the door, then LaCroix stepped inside the tiny, immaculate, seldom-used washroom. Tracy winced at the noise he made, but dared not complain.
"Come, child. Have something to drink," he said, offering her a glass.
Tracy leaned into the stool, as her stomach threatened again. "You have got to be kidding," she groaned.
"No, Tracy. The blood could not heal you until you had rid yourself of the excess wine. Now, it should make you well. Come, drink up."
Gingerly, she accepted the glass and forced herself to sip it. Her stomach hurt like a bleeding ulcer, but the blood soothed. She drained the glass, then ventured a timid glance at her master.
LaCroix looked neat as always and slightly amused. No one should look that good first thing in the morning... or afternoon, or whatever hell the time of day it was.
He held out a hand and she accepted it, as he pulled her to her feet. She followed him to the kitchen, where he refilled her glass. He sat and joined her in their breakfast.
"Why did it make me so drunk?" she asked. "I've had alcohol before."
"Blood is our only food," LaCroix explained patiently. "Nothing else can be tolerated. We have no digestive enzymes, so when we consume anything other than blood, it is like poison. Mature vampires can tolerate wine mixed with blood only in small amounts, and fledglings cannot tolerate it at all."
Tracy was silent as she listened. Again she realized that when she had thought that he was being merely bossy and overprotective, he had, in fact, been wise and absolutely correct. She would take his wishes more seriously in the future.
"So, why would those older vampires want to get me drunk?"
LaCroix was silent for a time. Tracy wondered if he was going to answer. Then he seemed to come to a decision. "They are angry with me, and seek to hurt me through hurting my progeny."
"Why are they mad at you?"
"It is a long story, my dear," he began, moving with her towards the couch. He sat in the corner, one leg folded across the other, and she curled up beside him, leaning against his chest. He wrapped one arm around her companionably.
She waited, hoping to hear the story. She'd gathered from the first meeting, before she knew anything about LaCroix, that he wasn't much of a sharer. She would encourage any intimate moment and treasure it.
"I staked one of their siblings a long time ago, and they have never forgiven me," he said.
She waited. There had to be more to the story than that. "Why did you stake him?"
He hesitated, seeming to war with himself on how much to tell. Then he told her all. "He assaulted Nicholas, when he was still a young fledgling. I killed him in a rage. Killing another vampire is a serious thing. Caspian and Corda brought me before the Council."
"But surely you had every right to defend Nick!" she blurted, looking up at him.
His eyes were distant. He was no longer quite in this century, but reliving a past, painful one. Tracy fell silent and waited expectantly.
"The rights of fledglings were negligible then. The rape of a fledgling was not sufficient cause to kill an elder. I defended my case before the judges, and Caspian was only accorded the right of retribution. He could not take my life.
"So, when you got out of line downstairs, I think he saw his chance to get even. I, however, believe that the death of his brother has already been duly recompensed and could see no reason to punish you." "Am I safe now?" she whispered, afraid of the answer.
His arm tightened around her protectively. "I hope so, little one. But I do not want you alone, away from either Nicholas or myself. Do you understand?"
"Yes, master," she replied.
LaCroix then made love to her. Slowly, tenderly, he made her feel treasured. And when she sank her fangs into his throat, he allowed the memories of his beating at Caspian and Corda's hands to cross over in his blood. It was not his intention to gain her sympathy, but only to show her how dangerous her new community could be. If his suffering would save her from her own foolishness, then the intimacy was well shared.
Later, LaCroix took her hand and lead her on to the roof. "My dear," he began. There was a surprising tenderness to his voice that made her legs weak and her undead heart flutter. "I believe you are ready to begin flying lessons."
Tracy shrieked with glee. Bouncing on her toes, she threw her arms around him impulsively and kissed both cheeks. "Thank you thank you thank you!" she spurted.
LaCroix tugged her arms free and tried to force a stern look, but his lips curled in amusement. "Control yourself, child," he chided.
Tracy stood straight at attention, eager to learn. "Yes, sir!"
Putting an arm around her shoulders, LaCroix drew her close and gestured towards the moon. "That is the source of light in our world. Close your eyes; feel it on your face. The light is cool and safe; it will never harm you, for it is not real. It is a mere reflection of the sun's dangerous rays. But the moon is much more to us than light. It is almost our god. Our ancient ones claimed it is the source of our power. Tradition claims that Lilith, wife of Cain, refused to share in his banishment. She forsook him, turned against both God and Devil, and mated with the moon. She was born into a new existence, and became mother of all the creatures of the night, but the vampires were her firstborn and her favorite."
"There are others?" Tracy whispered. She was enjoying the story, and didn't want to interrupt the magical spell he wove around her.
"Many others. Carouche, werewolves... lesser beings than ourselves. No one really believes the tales of our origins, anymore than they believe either the myths of Adam and Eve or monkeys becoming men. But that is beside the point. I have always felt an attraction to the moon. When frustrations mount and troubles are many, a flight before the face of the moon has always comforted."
Tracy closed her eyes again and leaned against her master. She felt the soothing balm of his voice, the faint warmth of the cool moon's glow, and peace filled her. She felt LaCroix's presence in her thoughts. Without words, he was instructing her. She relaxed, letting him fill her. Thoughts, sensations, closeness, weightlessness. Then, he spoke aloud.
"Tracy, open your eyes."
When she did, she screamed. The Raven was far below them.
She felt herself fall, but LaCroix was there to catch her. He smiled as she clung to him fearfully.
Relax. Remember. Let my thoughts instruct you. LaCroix's gentle coaching reminded her, and then she was flying. He held only her hand now, as she flew beside him. Higher, towards the moon, then they leveled off and flew to the edge of the city and out over the lake. "You will practice your landings over water, my dear," LaCroix informed her. "They can be rather tricky at first. If you lose control and plunge earthward, the water will break the impact. If you control yourself, just above the water's surface, you may fly towards dry land."
Tracy was attentive. It sounded so easy. But she splashed into the ice-cold water of Lake Ontario again and again. Being a vampire, she wasn't really susceptible to the cold. She didn't shiver, and hypothermia was not a concern, but the cold, wet clothing was very uncomfortable on her sensitive skin. She was getting angry, and her crash landings were coming more frequently.
"Enough," LaCroix called.
"I can do this!" she snapped. "Just let me try again!"
He took her by the shoulders with a firm grasp. Tracy's heart fluttered, but she saw no anger in his face at her disrespectful tone.
"I know you can do it, Tracy. But the night is over."
He gestured towards the faint light on the horizon. Tracy had never stayed up this late before in all her undead life. LaCroix took her hand and together they flew back towards the Raven, where he held her close and landed safely.
On the rooftop Tracy hugged him again. "Thanks, dad. This was really fun. Can we do it again tonight?"
"Perhaps," he said, returning her embrace. "Although there are many things to learn, and this is but one. It is also tiring. Whenever you fly, you greatly increase your need to feed. I need your solemn promise not to practice this skill alone. Plunging earthward can be very dangerous for a fledgling. Your ability to heal is not as developed."
"I promise," she said. "And I understand now why you waited so long. I can sense you much better now than even last week. There aren't words to describe what you taught me through the link. I couldn't have learned it before."
He smiled his assent. "Now that you have managed to soak my clothing as well, shall we step inside and change?"
Tracy grinned. She was very hungry, and suddenly she couldn't seem to stop yawning. It had been such an eventful night. She couldn't wait to tell Nick her news!
LaCroix followed her to bed and let her feed from him again. He said it was to revive her after the arduous flight lessons, but she sensed it was something more. He seemed lonely. Although his actions were satisfying, the passion was missing. It was so different from just last week, when he had taken both her and Nick. She realized then that it was Nick. Strangely, she didn't feel jealous. She knew LaCroix loved her. But he was missing his son, as he had done so much in this century, and Tracy resolved that she must see their cold war brought to an end at any cost.
That evening she and LaCroix had their meal together, as was now their custom, waiting until they felt Nick's arrival. LaCroix always felt him first, but Tracy was learning to recognize him as well. She drank heartily, having awakened with a major appetite. Two more shifts, and then she'd have two days off. She might have to wait until then to work on Nick. But how could she stay at the loft without hurting LaCroix's feelings? And with Urs there, maybe she wouldn't be successful? She could stay with Vachon, but how then would she get Nick to realize that he must make amends with his master?
"I was wondering," Tracy said, thinking aloud. "About this weekend. The city is so tiring- all those sights and sounds and trying to block them out all the time. Could I go away somewhere? Out in the country?"
LaCroix thought a moment before speaking. "Nicholas owns a small cottage." He seemed hesitant to say more.
LaCroix wouldn't ask Nick to use it, since they weren't speaking yet. Tracy suffered for him, but maybe she could help. "That would be great," she said, forcing a cheerfulness into her voice. "Maybe Nick, Vachon, Urs and I can all head up there together. Would that be okay?"
He scowled and looked almost angry. "I gave you permission to spend two days a week with whomever you choose," he snapped. He stood and walked away from her.
Tracy wanted to comfort him, but knew that would be the wrong thing to do. Straining to keep her tone light and bubbly, that he would not suspect her ulterior motives, she rambled on. "And it might give you a chance to see Natalie, since you won't have to worry about me."
There it happened again! She heard his heart beat at the mention of Natalie's name! He cared for her! Tracy turned to grab her coat while she struggled to hide the knowing smile.
"You may present your intentions to Nicholas and seek his approval," LaCroix said. "You have mine."
"I can't believe it is finally Friday night," Tracy stated with relief as she climbed inside the caddy.
"I know what you mean," Nick breathed. He hadn't made any plans for the weekend yet, but doing anything besides chasing the deadends after Jacobs' killer had to be an improvement. "LaCroix says you have a cottage somewhere," she said.
Nick scowled. So he knew about it? Well, maybe he didn't know where it was, yet.
"And I was wondering if you'd take me there this weekend? And maybe Vachon and Urs, too. I've got to get out of here, and LaCroix says I can go. Please, Nick?" She begged harder, as she sensed his lack of enthusiasm.
Nick glared at her, but couldn't keep an angry face. She was such an imp at times. "We'll see," he hedged.
"That's great! Oh, it will be great, you'll see!" She flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. The car swerved wildly before he could get it back under control.
"I didn't promise anything," he warned her.
"It's okay," she agreed.
Nick shook his head. She only heard what she wanted to hear. Women! He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. "I'm going to meet this Turk later," Nick announced. "I'll drop you back at the Raven before I go."
Tracy shrugged. "That's fine. I should pack a few things for the weekend."
He rolled his eyes as he got out of the car. "I can see why he wants to get rid of you for a couple of nights," he groaned, teasing her.
Back at their desks Tracy fidgeted endlessly. The constant gossiping among the other officers was getting annoying. She'd known it had existed before, but it was different now, being able to hear things she was never meant to hear.
"Ignore them," Nick advised under his breath.
"Easier said than done." She heaved a sigh.
A wicked grin split his face. "I think it's time to give the rumor mills something new," he whispered, his eyes sparking with mischief. Tracy grinned. He was so moody so much of the time that this was a side of him she didn't often see. "Okay. How?"
Nick lifted the phone and punched in a number. Tracy grinned as she recognized Urs's voice.
"Hi, Urs," Nick said softly. "I need a favor. We're going to my cabin for the weekend. Will you and Vachon meet us here at the precinct about four-thirty? And, wear something... leather," Nick said, his voice low and sultry. "We should allow two hours to get there before dawn."
Tracy clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle the scream of delight. "No Urs, Tracy's fine," Nick said. Urs had heard her muffled scream, even though the mortals in the room had not. "She's just hyperventilating. Yes, that'd be great. Bye, love."
Tracy uncovered her mouth. "What's great? Oh, Nick, this is going to be so much fun. I can't wait. What's your cabin like?"
Reese cleared his throat. "Ah, do you two still work here?"
"Yes, Captain," Nick and Tracy answered in unison.
He stared at them curiously. Something had changed in their relationship. He'd been hoping Nick would be able to adjust to a new partner after losing his last one so tragically, but Reese had been about to give up hope. Now, suddenly, they were thinking alike, answering alike, hell, they were even starting to look alike. If he hadn't already known Commissioner Vetter and Mr. LaCroix, he would have suspected that Nick and Tracy shared some genes.
"Well, good," Reese said then, as he saw their expectant faces. "Then go take a look at this body."
Tracy accepted the report while Nick grabbed his coat. "We're on our way," they answered in unison. Reese just shook his head at their retreating forms.
