The vampire strays were yawning as the sun lightened the horizon. They drifted off into corners, taking up floor space, and trying to get comfortable for the day. LaCroix watched Tracy and Vachon move behind the grand piano. She had a pillow and blanket, ensuring their own comfort. LaCroix sensed her own fear subsiding as Vachon aroused her to other interests. Urs waited patiently in the kitchen with Natalie. Nicholas should be down soon, he thought impatiently.
Shortly, he saw his son approach, although Nicholas was still more asleep than awake. He moved towards the kitchen and Urs handed him a glass. LaCroix indicated the chair facing Natalie. "Sit here, Nicholas. Let the doctor tend your wounds."
Nick slid into the chair obediently, not fully seeing any of them. LaCroix heaved a sigh and pulled off his pajama shirt. Natalie gasped at the many ugly swelling wounds, some still bleeding, on his arms and back. Nick sat still, without comment; she began the process of tugging out the splinters one at a time. As each splinter left, the wound faded and closed quickly. Natalie knew they healed fast, but to heal this fast, she knew Nick must have had fresh blood quite recently. He had killed tonight.
"Nick?" she asked gently. She wasn't sure what she felt about it. The hunters had attacked them, it was self-defense, and yet she worried how long Nick would suffer over this.
Nick didn't respond. LaCroix scowled at him. It was time to clear this up, while Nicholas was still weak and frightened. He moved to hover over his son, and spoke low near his ear. His voice was chilling.
"Tell the doctor what you did tonight, my son," he demanded.
"I killed a man," Nick said.
Natalie saw the slump of his shoulders and her heart ached to comfort him. She patted his arm affectionately.
"And what do you feel?" LaCroix prodded.
"Okay," Nick said.
"Do you feel guilt?"
Nick hesitated. He felt guilty in that he didn't feel more guilty. But LaCroix wouldn't understand that. His master repeated the question in a tone that demanded an answer.
"No," he said.
"And what did you learn tonight," the ancient continued.
Nick turned to look up at him, exhaustion and confusion on his face.
"Why did I come for you tonight!" LaCroix snapped.
Nick lowered his face. "Because you care about me," he confessed.
"Care!"
"You love me," he said.
"And?" LaCroix was not going to let him off lightly this time.
"You love me more than yourself," Nick said. "Master."
The confession was necessary, and he wanted Natalie to hear it as well. For six years she had thought of him as some sort of monster, solely responsible for all of Nick's miseries. Now from Nicholas's own lips she heard the rest of the story.
"And?" LaCroix continued, hoping to hear a full apology from his son for his disrespectful behavior recently.
Nick hesitated. Then he grinned up at LaCroix with that innocent-angelic expression that had always melted his anger in the past. "And you can take my bed?"
LaCroix tried to keep from smiling. Nicholas was still defying him by refusing to apologize, and yet, this night, hearing the words no longer seemed important. His actions were respectful, and perhaps that was all that mattered. He pulled his son into his arms and embraced him. Too softly for mortal ears, he spoke. "You and Urs may take the bed. Perhaps I will join you later."
Nick nodded obediently and took Urs's hand. Natalie watched them move to the loft. She felt a pang of jealousy that it was not her in his hands, then she stuffed it away. LaCroix was behind her, breathing down her neck, sending shivers of excitement up her spine.
"Will he forever come between us?" he asked softly.
Natalie shook her head. "No, Lucien. It may take a little time. Please be patient with me?"
"My dear," he said, pressing a kiss against her neck. "I have all the time in the world."
Natalie had finished nursing the vampires, and made herself a cup of tea, which she drank while LaCroix consumed a different beverage. They were companionably quiet, as all around them they sensed the contented slumber of vampires. When she closed her eyes, Natalie could almost feel the sense of peace that floated among the bodies. When she was ready, and joined LaCroix in the nightlife, she too would be a part of something more than herself. She would become a part of a whole, an individual in a large, protective family. Once again she felt the jealous monster, but not for Urs. She envied Nick. He had this family and didn't even appreciate it. Perhaps it was time she help him end his quest? Could she encourage him to live rightly, and remain a vampire? Would it be enough to satisfy his master and bring peace between them?
"I guess I should be going," Natalie said then, when she covered a yawn.
LaCroix nodded his assent. "Will you join me at the Raven tomorrow evening?"
She considered his invitation for only a moment. She had plenty of leave-time accrued, and everyone knew she was a close friend of Nick's. No one would think twice about her taking off to help him clean up the bar. "Gladly," she said. "Should I bring some cleaning supplies?"
LaCroix looked at her curiously for a moment before understanding dawned. "No, my dear. We shall leave the cleaning detail for the children. You and I shall be upstairs, near enough to ensure that work is accomplished, yet involved in activities far more interesting."
Natalie blushed. It was such a treat to be considered "one of the adults" she realized. Maturity certainly had its benefits. LaCroix walked her to the lift. Then he moved tentatively nearer. She had never known him to be anything less than positive and his hesitation pleased her. She leaned into him, raising her face to accept his kiss. His arms crushed her to him, even as his kiss took her breath away. He was so strong, so manly, and he not only loved her, but he respected her. She returned his kiss, parting her lips that their tongues could dance together.
For long moments she relished the passion that swept through her. She felt his fangs descend, and felt warm to her core as she caressed his teeth with her tongue. LaCroix did not lose control, though. When they ended the kiss, although his eyes were erotic, golden globes, his speech was controlled. "Good day, my dear," he said.
Natalie smiled at him, and knew she was falling in love. It didn't matter that she'd more or less "just broke up" with Nick. It was LaCroix that made her melt. "Good day, Lucien," she whispered lovingly.
LaCroix watched as she left, waited as he sensed her leaving. The sun was up, or he'd have watched her car drive off. It had been a long time since he'd taken a lover for his own. There had been many vampires throughout the centuries- a fair pleasant toss whenever his children were too annoying to please him. But he'd only loved twice before. Once was the prostitute, when he'd still been mortal. His daughter's mother, Selene. He had loved her, although he'd been unable to marry her, or even to claim his child. The prostitute had turned bitter over the years, rejecting his love. Then, he had loved again, Nick's little sister, Fleur. He turned away from her, letting her forget about him, to satisfy Nicholas. Now, again, he was offered the miracle of another's love. How unfortunate that it had to be his son's old girlfriend. It was a delicate situation, and one that could cause great harm if not handled carefully.
He wandered through the loft, checking in on Janette's waifs. They looked so innocent in sleep. Vachon's dark hair splayed across the pillow, one strand covered his pale cheek. One long, slender hand- a musician's hand, rested on his breast. Tracy curled up at his side, her hair the color of moonshine. They were such opposites- Vachon was the irresponsible drifter, and she was ordered and grounded. Yet, they looked so right together. He smiled, imagining the centuries of battles and making up that they would share.
Turk was there, hunkered down into a ball, all alone. Caspian needed a fledgling to bring his existence meaning. LaCroix would speak to him about adopting the orphan. Turk was eager to please, if a little dull-witted. Just what Caspian needed.
On he moved, his mind wandering as he watched the young ones sleep. He was grateful that they were safe once more, and regretted that the hunters had not been found in time to help Rita. She was an annoying vampire, to be sure, but she had been a good waitress and he would miss the almost nightly little problems she created.
LaCroix was feeling his age. He was contented, but he felt removed from this generation. It was time to sleep and end this useless woolgathering. Slowly he climbed the stairs.
Nick's one-bedroom loft was not set up for company. LaCroix thought about that, as his son had tried to live alone all the while suffering in his loneliness. Would that change soon? He knew Nicholas was still jealous at times of Tracy. LaCroix would have to make certain that he knew he was always welcome.
The room was dark and quiet. Nick and Urs lay entwined in each other's arms, on one side of the bed. LaCroix smiled as he removed his clothing. He lifted the sheets and slipped inside, trying not to awaken them. Nicholas was so exhausted.
His son rolled over in his sleep, laying an arm around LaCroix's ribs. The golden hair tickled under his nose. He stroked the smooth, new skin of Nicholas' back.
Nicholas stirred, still more asleep than awake and nuzzled at LaCroix's neck. The ancient held still, wondering if his son knew what he was doing. Nicholas whispered breathily into his ear. "Master! Father, take me!"
LaCroix groaned as his fangs descended. Nicholas squirmed against him, licking his throat, arousing him and begging him, but the boy respectfully waited. It was LaCroix's right, as ancient and master, to either grant his wish or deny him. In one fluid movement LaCroix rolled on top of him, embracing and protecting, and plunged his fangs into the throat of his beloved son. Nicholas bit him then, completing the circle. His youthful essence filled LaCroix, as his more ancient blood soothed and satisfied his child. They gave each other more than blood, more than love. They gave one another forgiveness and acceptance. LaCroix knew then that he would have to allow his son the freedom to be different. In loosening the hold he had on him, he would receive the love and honor he craved.
Nicholas was weakening. LaCroix withdrew his teeth, allowing his son to suck a moment longer. Then they parted. LaCroix lay back with Nick curled tightly against his side, and Urs snuggled up against Nick. They would have to get a bigger bed, LaCroix thought distractedly, so Natalie would be able to join them one day. Then he sank into sleep.
