Date: Thu, 17 Aug 1995 16:27:24 -0500 From: Linda Pulis Subject: Birds of a Feather, 1/3 Well, I've finally gotten brave enough to post my first FK fan-fic story. I used a character I had created long before I ever heard of FK, so I should warn everyone that there are some definite non-FK-canon elements to this story. Enjoy. Birds of a Feather Michael Collier crouched over the body, trying to decide if his limited medical knowledge could in any way help the poor woman. He could smell the blood flowing from the internal injuries--blood flowing at a terrifying rate. He shook his head in sorrow, listening to her heart's last beat. Even if he had found her sooner, there was nothing he could have done. "Freeze, police!" Michael spun around. He had been so caught up in the fatal drama playing out before his eyes he had allowed a mortal to close to within 20 feet of him. The short, plain-clothed officer made a motion with his drawn weapon. "Hands over your head." His forehead was shiny with nervous sweat where his dark hair was balding away from it. Michael could smell adrenaline, but no fear. The man was wary, but not frightened. "I didn't do it," he calmly tried to explain. "Save it for the judge, punk." Sighing in frustration, Michael looked down at his stylishly torn jeans and black T-shirt. His long blond hair fell over his face. Why did he have to pick tonight to dress down? His preternatural brain sped through his options. Killing the man was out of the question. Wiping his memory would be chancey at this distance. Giving himself up and hoping to be released before dawn was too risky and could be dangerous to himself. He decided flight was his best option. He took a step toward that end when he heard another voice behind him. "Halt." I don't believe this, Michael thought. I let another one sneak up on me. What's wrong with me tonight? He froze for a moment. I can't just disappear in front of two witnesses. Looking up, he made eye contact with the first officer. Forget. Then he used all his supernatural speed to make a dash for the small building beside the road. Speed that made him a blur to mortal eyes. He expected to hear gunshots from the officer behind him. Instead, he felt two strong hands grabbing his shoulders and throwing him against the wall of the building. Michael used his tremendous strength to try and wrench away from the hands. He could twist in their grasp, but they didn't release him. He finally looked up into the eyes of a handsome man, his short hair a more golden shade than Michael's almost-white locks. He slowly realized the man holding him was also a vampire. Michael tried again to escape the other vampire's grasp. The son-of-a-bitch is strong, he thought. He lost his temper. Pale blue eyes growing red, fangs descending, he tried anew to get away. "Are you insane? Let me go," he hissed when his escape attempt failed yet again. His eyes faded to their normal color, his fangs retracted. "I can't do that," the other vampire said in a calm voice. "You're under arrest." "You're a cop?" Michael was incredulous. His anger evaporated in his disbelief. "Yes, I am. I need to take you in--" "You know I didn't do it." "That's irrelevant. They all think you did." "What if they keep me past dawn, you moron?" "I'll make sure they don't." "How?" The flashing lights of two squad cars interrupted their conversation. The strange vampire's human partner ran up to the pair. "You got him, Nick! Great. I don't know what the hell happened. I got really disoriented for a minute." "It's alright, Schanke." "Yeah, I guess," Schanke said, shaking his head in confusion. "Here, let me help you cuff him." The vampire called Nick held up his hand, stopping his partner. "That won't be necessary, Skank." "Nick, this is a murder suspect." "He's an old . . . acquaintance of mine. An escape artist. Handcuffs wouldn't do any good." Schanke remained unconvinced. "Why don't you get the car?" Nick smiled. "Don't worry, I can handle him." Schanke frowned, but started walking toward the street. Nick waved the uniformed officers away. "It's under control," he called. He turned back to his captive. "Don't worry. I'll have them release you to my custody before dawn. That's why I told Schanke I knew you." "Why are you doing this? Even if I did kill her, it's not as if we're bound by mortal laws." "This area was under surveillance. There are at least five mortal witnesses placing you at the scene. We're going to have to clear this up unless you want to disappear for a few years." Nick took a step back, but didn't release his hold on Michael's arm. Michael frowned. "I don't believe this. I like this identity." "Then I suggest you cooperate." Schanke was going overboard in his `bad cop' role, and Nick could tell the other vampire was becoming annoyed. Nick was glad there was no one in the observation room behind the one-way glass. He had tried to tell Schanke the good cop/bad cop scenario wouldn't work, but Schanke was convinced it would. "I told you," the suspect practically snarled. "My name is Drew Michael Collier. I'm vacationing here from Austin, Texas. I was taking a walk in the fucking park when I stumbled over the fucking body." He was visibly becoming more agitated with each syllable. Nick tried to step in before it went any further. "That's enough, Schanke. He's repeated the information six times." Unfortunately, Schanke interpreted his interference as a continuation of the role. The detective turned his back on the two vampires. "Well, Nick, if he's so innocent, he won't mind repeating it six more times." This time Michael did snarl. Nick caught him as he launched himself at Schanke. He forced Michael back into his chair as Schanke turned back to see what the commotion was, then stepped between his partner and the suspect while Michael got himself under control. "Schanke, we were supposed to be off-duty half an hour ago. It's almost dawn, and I for one would like to get some rest. Let it go." Schanke reluctantly relaxed. He opened the door, motioning for the officer situated outside to enter. Nick caught Michael staring at the attractive uniformed officer as she stationed herself inside the briefing room. He hesitated at the door. "Can I trust you alone with her?" Nick's whisper was too low for human ears to catch. Michael ignored him, trying to catch the woman's eye. He tossed his long hair back, smiling when she glanced at the motion. CAN I TRUST YOU? Michael jumped, startled out of his concentration on the young woman. Don't worry, he finally responded. Your little friends are safe from me. He smiled wickedly. Honor amongst thieves, etc. Nick frowned, still worried. Vampires were the least trustworthy beings on the face of the planet. But his instincts told him to trust this one, and even as a mortal Nick had trusted his instincts. Nick watched Michael closely as they walked to his car, but the other vampire showed no signs of wanting to escape. Both men settled gracefully into the front seat before either spoke. "My name is Michel du Mernord, by the way," the stranger introduced himself, "aka Drew Collier, or Michael." Nick extended his hand. "Nicolas de Brabant, or Detective Nick Knight, if you prefer." Ice-cold flesh met ice-cold flesh in their grip. They rode in silence for a few minutes, each measuring the other. Vampires by nature were extremely private beings. If they had friends, they were usually part of a small family-like group, or coven, as some liked to call them. Still, Michael felt the urge to keep talking. Finally he tried again. "I'm originally from Austria, 1492." He waited to see if Nick would volunteer any information. One did not simply come out and ask other vampires for personal information. Nick sighed. "I was brought across in Northern Europe, 1228." Michael paused again, not quite sure how to go on. "So, have you seen `Interview with the Vampire'?" Nick finally smiled. "Yes, I have. It was quite good. I was impressed that they managed to follow the book so closely." Michael nodded. "They screwed up the teeth and went a little overboard on the makeup, but overall it was fairly realistic. Especially how Lestat's face healed after Claudia cut him. I wonder about Ms. Rice, though, she seems to know so much about us." Nick turned to check the lane behind him before moving into it. "What worries me are the other creatures she writes about--the witches, Ramses the mummy, and so on." "Yeah, well, I won't start getting worried unless she starts writing about werewolves. I occasionally have nightmares about being bitten by one and having to live out eternity that way." Nicholas chose not to comment as they pulled into his apartment building's parking garage. He led Michael up to his apartment and walked into the kitchen area while Michael looked around. Pulling a bottle from the refrigerator, he reached for glasses. "Hungry?" "Definitely. You and your little friends interrupted my hunt this evening." Michael sniffed at the liquid Nick poured into a goblet. He cautiously raised it to his lips and tasted it. He quickly lowered it, grimacing. "What is that?" Nick smiled. "Cow." "Cow?" "I don't drink human blood." "Never?" "Not anymore," Nick corrected. He paused, sipping at the cold liquid in his glass. "Unlike most of our kind, I find murder morally repulsive." Michael froze, amazed. He had never met another real-life vampire with that attitude. Still, there was no harm in playing devil's advocate. Reaching for his glass, he disdainfully made his next comment. "They're just mortals. No better than cattle, really." Nick turned his back on him, moving to a chair in the center of the room, thoughtful. Michael moved to a sofa beside him. "The fact that they are mortal makes every minute of their lives infinitely more precious," Nick eventually countered. "They don't give a damn how much they hurt other creatures. And they have no compunctions about killing for food." "They are not animals! They are intelligent creatures," Nick snapped. `"That's another discussion altogether," Michael replied. "Still, for argument's sake, let's say they are intelligent. There's a fair amount of evidence suggesting dolphins and whales are intelligent, yet humans still hunt them, or pull them up in fishing nets, or pollute their environment until they die." "Many mortals have learned better than that. They are working to change." Michael held up his hands, smiling. "Alright, alright. I surrender." He drained his glass. "Anyway, I happen to agree with you." Nick gave him a yeah-right look. "No, really. Oh, I drink human blood, but you don't have to kill them to do it." Nick snorted. "It's almost impossible to stop, once you've started." "But it can be done." "It's too dangerous. For them, I mean." Michael shook his head. "Well, a fledgling couldn't do it, but if I'm strong enough, I know you are. If you take it in a moment of passion, or even better, if they give it willingly, it goes a lot further. You don't have to drink near so much, and in their ecstasy, the slightest push makes them forget, or at least think they dreamed it." Shaking his head, Nick stood and began pacing. "It's been so long since I've tasted it for pleasure I don't think I could control myself. " His thoughts drifted to Nat. "It makes me agitated just thinking about it." He shook his head again. "Let's change the topic." He sat back in his chair. "Did you see anything last night?" "No. Like I told you earlier, repeatedly," Michael rolled his eyes while Nick smiled, both thinking of Schanke, "I heard her scream. By the time I arrived he was gone. Of course, I didn't tell your partner that I did catch his scent, and I'd of course recognize him if I smelled him again. He was wearing Polo cologne, and he must have eaten something really hot lately, because he reeked of spices. His bloodtype was A-negative, as well." "We know the blood type from the previous slayings. The rest of it's not going to be much help, unfortunately." Michael shrugged. "Sorry. I would have gotten him if you hadn't stopped me." Nick slammed his hand on the sturdy table beside him. "I was so sure we had him this time." He shook his head. "Imagine my surprise when I discovered a vampire at the scene." He looked into Michael's ice-blue eyes. "How could you walk into a trap like that? What were you thinking?" "Obviously I wasn't," Michael answered sardonically. He shrugged. "I had a lot on my mind. Anyway, how could ya'll miss him?" "I wasn't involved in the surveillance, and they were concentrating on you. We thought he only entered the park through the 5th Street gate, so they were only watching people who came in through that gate. You just picked the wrong time to wander through the area. The surveillance team's long-distance techniques were to alert those of us stationed throughout the park when the killer got near. They alerted Schanke and me, unfortunately it was after the victim's scream told us the real story." "If they were watching me, why didn't they know I didn't do it?" "They lost you for a few seconds when you entered that grove. That's when the attack occurred." "Of course." As if to punctuate his exasperation, the phone rang. Nick reached for it. "Knight residence." Michael wandered over to the windows. Huge metal blinds hung, waiting for dawn, ready to close. He purposefully focused his keen hearing outside, giving his host privacy. Cars purred by on the street beside the building. Their motors roared on the distant expressway. A garbage can fell, banging on the pavement, three blocks to the west. In the alley directly under the window, a dog softly growled. He listened more carefully, concentrating fully on the alley. There. Pat, pat, pat. A cat trotted on the ledge above the dog's head. Michael tried to narrow his focus, straining to hear the cat's breathing. "Michael?" Michael nearly jumped out the window when he heard a voice directly behind him. He did wind up crouched on the window ledge. "Geez!" He yelped. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Nick was trying hard not to laugh, but his eyes glittered with amusement. Michael panted for a few seconds, catching his breath before he hopped down from the ledge. He shook his head, pretended to glare at Nick, then grinned when Nick burst into laughter. "Payback is hell, buddy. Remember that." Michael delivered his warning as the blinds began to close. Then he joined Nick's laughter. Nick shook his head, still smiling. "That was my boss. She wants me to bring you in for a blood test." They glanced at the closed blinds. Michael chuckled. "I don't think so." Nick smiled, then sobered, staring at Michael. "I don't often laugh like that. Not since I was brought across." "In that case, my friend, you are spending eternity with the wrong people." Nick grimaced, thinking of LaCroix. "You've got that right." When he didn't continue, Michael sighed. "So what are we going to do about a blood sample? Give them someone else's?" Nick smiled again. "Not quite." He picked up the phone, waving Michael to sit back down as he started to rise and move away again. "Nat? I've got a major favor to ask." Dr. Natalie Lambert was slightly nervous as she got off the elevator. Nick rushed to her side, trying to put her at ease. He knew she was uncomfortable around other vampires. Michael hung back. He was exhibiting his most charming smile, trying to exude harmlessness. Inside, he was feeling as skittish as the doctor. Revealing himself to a mortal was unnerving in any situation. Revealing himself to a mortal he didn't know had his nerves stretched to the limit. Nick drew Natalie further into the room and introduced the two. He was careful to stay between them as they settled in the living area. "Captain Cohen isn't too happy about this, Nick." "I know." "I am risking my entire career here." "I know. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know." "As do I," Michael added. Natalie nodded curtly, then began withdrawing paperwork from her briefcase. She muttered more to herself than to the two vampires as she worked. "Falsifying legal documents, obstructing justice . . .." "Nat," Nick protested. "He didn't do it. You know he didn't. The fact that there was a blood type proves that." "I know, Nick. I'm just nervous. For Pete's sake, I won't even have a sample." "I could get you one," Michael volunteered. Natalie blanched. "No, no. That's alright." "Look, Nat, if they keep wasting their time with him it'll slow them down." She nodded. "I know." She took some information from Michael, then briskly tucked the paperwork back into her briefcase. She hesitated. "Just out of curiosity, what blood type would I find if took a sample of your blood?" Nick and Michael looked at each other. Then Michael answered. "It would match my last feeding." Natalie very nearly gagged. "How can you--? Never mind. I don't want to know." She stood. "I'd better get back." Nick walked her to the door. "Thanks, again, Natalie." She smiled as the elevator door closed. * * * With such conclusive evidence as the results of Michael's bloodwork (falsified though they were), he was dropped from the list of suspects, and the Toronto Police Department went back to their surveillance. With great difficulty, Nick convinced Schanke to allow his new friend to accompany him on surveillance, on the grounds that he might recognize something he'd forgotten. "You realize," Schanke lectured, "that if Cohen finds out, it's both our rears?" "I know, Skank. I really appreciate it." On the way to the car, Schanke slipped on the wet pavement. As luck would have it, it was Michael's arm he tried to grab on the way down, and Michael whom he splashed when he fell. Michael sighed. He pulled his jacket back into place and shook his wet shoe in disgust. "Sorry," Schanke said as he brushed the muddy water off his own clothes. The evening's starting well, Nick sarcastically told himself as they got in his Cadillac. I just hope Michael doesn't lose his temper and make Schanke his lunch. There was no sign of the killer that night, or the next, or the next. On the fourth night, in a park across town, they discovered why. "At least this time I didn't get arrested for it," Michael quipped as he looked down at the fifth victim, her broken body lying amidst tall weeds. Schanke, Natalie and Nick each gave him a look of disgust for his irreverence. He shrugged. "What is this man doing here?" Nick and Schanke winced at Cohen's voice. Think fast, Nick told himself. "I, uh, had just picked him up when I got the call, Captain. I didn't want to take the time to get him back home." She frowned, but accepted the story. "Well, get him away from the crime scene," she ordered. It was Nick's turn to shrug as he walked Michael back behind the police barricades. "Was it him?" His voice was pitched low enough that only another of his kind could have heard him. "Oh, yeah," Michael replied in the same low voice. "It was him, alright." The vampire delicately wrinkled his nose. "He needs a shower." "Thanks." Nick clamped him on the shoulder and left him at the barricades. He walked back to his coworkers. Michael amused himself by eavesdropping on their conversation. He grimaced when the Captain told them the surveillance was officially discontinued. Nick was upset. "But, Captain--!" "No buts, Detective. Surveillance doesn't help if he's going to move his location around. We can't watch every park in Toronto," she finished gently. Michael looked up as he felt somebody near his right shoulder. "What a pity," said a tall man with a buzzed semi-mohawk. Michael recognized him as another vampire by the pale skin and lack of human scent. Toronto's crawling with vampires, he thought. The man turned to face Michael, grinning. "Greetings." He extended his hand. "I'm a friend of Nick's." Michael extended his hand cautiously. His natural instincts kicked in, warning him to trust no one, not even another vampire. Especially not another vampire. Where are those instincts where Nick Knight is concerned, he asked himself. "Hello." The vampire smiled as Michael neglected to introduce himself. "You're not from this area." "Neither are you." The vampire's accent was as out-of-place as Michael's Austrian intonation. "What are you doing here, LaCroix?" Nick had walked up to the pair and was glaring at the newcomer. "Nicolas, Nicolas." He spoke the name in French. "Why don't you ever introduce me to your friends?" He effected a hurt tone. "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" "Aah, Nicolas. Eternity would be so boring without your little games to amuse me. Imagine." He laughed. "Spending night after night in cold, damp, dirty city parks, pretending it's difficult to catch a mere mortal." "Pretending?" "Oh, my. Don't tell me you really haven't figured it out?" LaCroix laughed again. "How utterly precious." He turned and started walking away, still laughing. "Damnit, LaCroix!" The tall vampire kept walking, ignoring the stares from the onlookers. His laughter faded as Nick brought his angry trembling under control. He felt Michael's hand on his arm. "Easy, friend. You're about to lose it." He waited until Nick took a deep breath before continuing. "Who was that?" Nick glared in the direction LaCroix had taken. "An old nemesis." He turned to face Schanke's direction. "I'll see you later, Skank. I've got some business to take care of." Schanke waved and Nick motioned to his car. "Come on," he told Michael. "There's someone I've got to talk to." Michael nodded appreciatively at the throbbing, primal music inside the Raven's doors. He smiled slightly at a handful of the vampires relaxing on leather couches or crouched on barstools. Looking around, he noticed there was a line of mortals stretching halfway down the block, dying to get inside. Michael smiled at his own joke. The mortals that had gained admittance were oblivious to the predators in their midst. "Who is this lovely creature, Nicolas?" Both men turned at the sound of a sultry voice behind them. The beautiful brunette standing there smiled seductively at Michael, but it was Nick's arm she entwined with her own. Michael's eyes roamed down her tight leather vest, appreciating the long legs flowing out from the tiny mini-skirt. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Nick?" "Janette, this is Michael du Mernord. Michael, Janette du Charme." Michael bent to kiss the hand Janette extended, gazing into her eyes the whole time. "Your beauty shames the twinkling heavens, milady." He allowed his impeccable 15th century manners full rein. Janette laughed, delighted. "A gentleman! How enchanting. Where did you find such a charming individual, Nicolas?" She, too, gave Nick's name its French pronunciation. She cast an admiring glance over Michael's body, as he had to hers. Still, Michael noticed, she did not release Nick's arm. For his part, Nick simply smiled tightly. "We need to talk." He glanced around. "Privately." Janette abruptly released his arm and turned away from him. "About what?" Forced cheerfulness filled her voice. "I think you know." She paused, then turned on him angrily. "Must it always be business with you? Don't you ever get tired of playing, what do the American's call it? Cops and Robbers?" "I don't have time for games, Janette," Nick snapped. "I want to know what LaCroix was taunting me about." She sighed. "You're as bad as he is. I'm nothing but a pawn in your little powerplays." Nick smiled. "That's not true. You know I care about you." She pouted. "You can be quite the silver-tongued gentleman yourself, when you wish it, Nicolas." Nick adopted a cute, boyish grin. "Please?" She threw her hands up. "You don't really think a mortal would have the strength to commit those murders, do you?" Nick stared at her, shocked. "What are you talking about?" "Really, Nicolas. Don't be naive." "LaCroix?" "Don't be silly. He would never do anything so, so base as to beat someone to death. I don't know who is doing it." "But LaCroix does." It was not a question. Janette simply smiled at him. Nick glowered at her, then spun to leave. "Coming?" The abrupt question surprised Michael. He stared after Nick for a moment, then followed him outside. * * * "May I ask where we're going?" Michael finally ventured to ask his question after watching Nick leave an inch of rubber on yet another corner. "To see LaCroix." The Caddy squealed around one more corner, speeding through a stop sign. Brakes screeched behind them. They finally slid to a halt on a short, wooded avenue that reeked of old money. Nick slammed the door, stalking to a tall wooden gate peeping from between tall, thick bushes. Michael followed him toward a small but elegant brick house. Nick didn't even bother ringing the doorbell. He grabbed the knob and nearly tore the door off its hinges when it didn't offer the resistance he expected. LaCroix was sitting in a deeply padded recliner, a leather book on his lap. As he put it down on the coffee table in front of him, his visitors clearly saw the title. Necronomicon. LaCroix shook his head as he lightly caressed the book's cover. "Human skin makes such an inferior binding. It gets worn to nothing within centuries." He smiled widely as Nick stared in horror at the book. "It's an amusing little text, Nicolas. Perhaps you'd like to borrow it sometime?" He made as if to offer it to the detective. Nick and Michael both appeared sickened. "You look ill," LaCroix commented. "Would you like something to make you feel better? One of the neighborhood girls, perhaps?" He chuckled as his visitors tore their eyes off the book. "Where are they?" Nick asked. "The neighborhood girls? Why, all over the place. The district crawls with them." Michael chuckled. Nick glared. "The murderers." LaCroix ignored Nick's question as he stood. "Nicolas. Where are your manners? I simply must insist on being introduced to anyone who is a guest in my house." He paused, his amused look disappearing. "I will not have a stranger knowing my lair." Nick gritted his teeth, trying to keep his temper under control and his fangs retracted. "LaCroix, this is Mike." "Mike." LaCroix played with the name for a moment. "I don't know any Mikes. You must be fairly young." Michael was uncomfortable with the new, possibly dangerous, topic. "I'm old enough," he answered. LaCroix grinned. "Are you?" The grin vanished. "Give me one reason I should let you leave this house . . . alive, so to speak." Nick and Michael both tensed. This was no game. If LaCroix felt threatened enough, he was perfectly capable of carrying through on his threat. "LaCroix," Nick began. "Stay out of this." "He is my guest." "You invited him to this city? You are familiar with his history? With his family?" "As if anyone familiar with my `family' would trust me." Nick braced himself as LaCroix glared. "Be very careful, Nicolas," he said quietly. "Whether you choose to admit it or not, yours is a very old, very respected bloodline." He looked at Michael again. "I repeat, I do not know you. What is to keep me from destroying you right now?" Nick opened his mouth, ready to protest again, when Michael held up his hand. "It's alright, Nick." He drew himself up. "My name, Sir, is Michel du Mernord. I was brought across in 1492, by Varrick Tavish." LaCroix raised his eyebrows. "Aah." He nodded, impressed. "Michel, not Mike. Yes, I know you, or at least know of you. The story of Varrick's last child is, shall we say, legend?" Nick frowned. "Who's Varrick Tavish?" LaCroix sat back down. "Really, Nicolas. If you wouldn't spend so much time with the prey, you wouldn't be so ignorant about your own kind. Many say Varrick Tavish is the oldest one of us still alive." Nick turned to Michael, who waved him away. "I'll tell you all about it, sometime." LaCroix held up his hand. "I, too, would like to hear that tale, Monsieur du Mernord." Nick brought himself back to his purpose. "And I, LaCroix, would like to know where the murderers are." "Aren't we all murderers, Nicolas?" "LaCroix . . .." "Alright. Alright. I don't know where they are. Not exactly." Nicolas drew a breath. Patience, he counseled himself. "What do you mean, `not exactly'?" "Well, there was this small matter of a wager, and," LaCroix shrugged, "I lost." "What kind of wager?" Nick asked his question slowly, exerting vast amounts of willpower to keep his temper under control. LaCroix chuckled. "Well, you see, I bet an old friend of mine that my children would be smarter, stronger and more resourceful than his. I'm really quite disappointed in you, Nicolas. I wagered you'd catch him before he murdered his fifth victim." "So your friend had one of his get risk exposure for this wager?" LaCroix's chuckle grew into a laugh. "Oh, no. He made a brand new one." He paused to study his fingernails. "Amazing what you can find at asylums these days." "You purposefully made an insane vampire?!" Nick was so shocked he forgot to be angry. "I didn't." "No, you just caused it to happen." Nick remembered his anger. "How could you allow something like that?" Michael let himself fall onto a couch, shaking his head. "I mean, the process is unpredictable enough without throwing insanity into the equation." "Well, how was I supposed to know Nicolas isn't as good as everyone says he is? How do you think I feel? I lost a perfectly good 13th century ruby ring." "LaCroix--!" Nick brought himself back under control. "This creature could potentially expose us all. Where do you think he is?" LaCroix sighed. "For some inexplicable reason, probably his lack of sanity, he and his mortal friend were spending time in some cold, damp cabin out at the lake." A wicked smile appeared. "I suppose I should say then-mortal friend. Now? Who knows?" Nick closed his eyes for a moment. "North shore? South shore?" "South, I believe." "May I use your phone?" LaCroix gestured toward the back of the house. "In the kitchen." He waited for Nick to go through the door, then turned to Michael. "Tell me, how is your Sire? I met him, a few centuries past. I hear he's in Los Angeles these days." Michael smiled. "I actually haven't seen him in a quarter-century myself." LaCroix smiled at the easy evasion of his question. "Is it true he's brought no one across in the five hundred years since he made you?" Nick rushed out of the kitchen, saving Michael from answering. "Let's go." He stopped at the door, turning back to LaCroix. "Thank you." "Just see that you take care of it before it becomes a problem." "I don't believe that man," Nick grumbled as they sped away. "He's your Sire?" Nick winced. "Yes," he answered curtly. Michael laughed. "Definitely shades of The Empire Strikes Back. `I am your father, Luke.'" "Shut up," Nick said angrily. He turned a corner so fast the two outer wheels almost lost contact with the pavement. Touchy subject, Michael thought. "Sorry," he said. They rode in silence for a few blocks, then Nick glanced at his passenger. "I called Schanke, and told him I got an anonymous tip. He's meeting us at the lakefront with backup. We'll go door to door if we have to." Michael raised his eyebrows. "What if mortals find them?" "I'm counting on your sense of smell to make sure we find them first." Michael nodded. "I can handle that." "I can't justify taking you with me on a door-to-door search." "That's ok," Michael responded. "I'll manage." Nick stopped and let him out a few blocks from the agreed-upon meeting place. Michael disappeared into the shadows. Driving into a convenience store parking lot, Nick found Schanke's unmarked sedan, as well as five police cruisers and, Nick winced, Cohen's car. If she saw Michael in the area she would freak. "Alright," she said as Nick walked up. She gestured to a map spread open on a cruiser's hood. "There are thirty cabins on this side of the lake. The only thing we've got is a vague description that we've already made one false arrest on, so keep your eyes out for anything unusual." She began directing pairs of officers to various areas. Nick and Schanke were assigned five lots directly on the waterfront. Great, Nick thought. Just what I need to round out the evening, an ice-cold bath in muddy water. They knocked on the first door. An old woman answered, peering out from behind a chain. "May I help you?" Schanke held up his badge. "Toronto police, ma'am. We'd just like to ask you a few questions." She studied the badge closely, then reached up to unchain the door. "I'm sorry," she said. "You just never know, these days." "It's quite alright, ma'am." Nick smiled politely, focusing his acute hearing on the rest of the house. He heard gentle snores. His sharp nose detected the smell a mortal, nothing more. Schanke pulled out a copy of the police artist's rendering of the suspect description. "Have you seen this man?" She took it, holding it up to the light. "No, I haven't. I could wake Charlie. Maybe he has. Me, I don't sleep too well anymore, but my Charlie sleeps like a baby." She turned to walk back into the house. Nick lightly placed a hand on her arm. "That's alright, ma'am, we can come back in morning. We're sorry for disturbing you at such a late hour." He ignored Schanke's disbelieving stare. "Oh, that's quite alright, young man. You boys be careful not to catch the flu out there." "We'll keep that in mind." Nick smiled as she closed the door. "What are you doing?" Schanke was incredulous. "Maybe he's seen something." Nick glanced at his partner. "I'm not going to wake an eighty-year-old man at 2:00 a.m. just to ask him to look at a picture that may or may not look like a man who may or may not have committed the murders." Schanke threw his hands up in frustration, but continued down the sidewalk to the next cabin. He shook his head, muttering the whole way. Nick raised his hand to knock on the next door when he heard a voice in his head. Nick? Michael? Nick paused, his hand up to knock. Wrong door, buddy. They're in the next one. "Come on," Nick said aloud, dragging Schanke away from the door. "What--?" "I just saw movement behind the next house." Good answer, Nickie. Be careful, there are five of them. Five vampires? Nick stopped abruptly. Yep. And one mortal. The one I recognize from the other night. Where are you? In a tree behind the house, about twenty feet up. Nick's thoughts sped. Schanke was in grave danger. Even fledglings were more than a match for a single mortal. And he still wasn't sure how far he could trust Michael. "What are you waiting for?" Schanke asked. "Skank, I've got a feeling about this one. Why don't you go call for backup? I'll watch the house, make sure nobody leaves." Schanke looked suspicious, but nodded. "You make sure you wait for backup, PARTNER." "I will." He watched Schanke run down the street, then turned back to the house. Ready? Michael asked. Be careful, Nick advised. I need the mortal alive. I'll try. Nick walked to the side of the house, his footsteps so light he nearly floated across the lawn. He watched Michael jump from his vantage point, making the slightest sound as he landed on the grass. I'm going to flush them out, Nick thought to Michael. Can you handle them until I get there? Fledglings? Are you kidding? Nick crept to the tiny porch. Not bothering to knock, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted, ripping the lock apart. The vampires heard the tearing wood. Two of them appeared in the hall. "We have a visitor," said the shorter one, grinning. "You picked the wrong house to break into, mister," his taller companion told Nick. Nick shook his head sadly. Both vampires wore dirty, ill-fitting clothes. Each had a crazed look in his eyes. Nick stepped toward them. The short one snarled and leapt at Nick. He caught him easily, then tossed him back down the hall as his taller friend jumped to his rescue. One well-aimed punch sent him flying down the hall after his friend. Being only days, perhaps hours, old they weren't too much stronger than mortals. Nick stepped into the back bedroom, baring his fangs. "Holy shit!" One of them yelled. "Get him!" Another one yelled. The mortal just screamed. Nick was getting desperate. Schanke and company would arrive any minute. Knocking the fledglings around wasn't doing any good. He grabbed a wooden chair. Smashing it to pieces, he fended off an attack from the left. Then he felt a weight on his back. The young vampire twisted his head, reaching for Nick's neck. Nick grabbed him by the hair. He flipped him off his back. Nick aimed for the part of the chair still standing. He impaled the fledgling on the wood, a chair leg sticking through his heart. The vampire writhed in agony for a second, then lay still. The other four vampires stared at their dead companion, then turned and flew out the back door. Nick grabbed a chair leg and threw it. He got the last vampire through the back, but he missed the heart. The fledgling flayed around on the ground, hissing in pain. Nick picked up a slat of wood and finished the job. He noticed the terrified mortal huddled on the floor. "Go to sleep," he ordered him. The mortal's eyes grew heavy. He closed them and slumped against a wall. Nick hurried outside. He found two of the fledglings lying on the ground right outside the door. Tree limbs had caught them in their hearts. The fifth vampire's head lay not too far away. Michael was setting the axe down as Nick ran up to him. "Get these bodies away from here. Quickly. We'll deal with them later." Michael nodded and lifted two of the late fledglings. He flew into the treetops with them. Nick hurried back into the house. He tossed the two he'd taken care of out the back door, then woke the mortal. "Forget," he told him. He was just putting the handcuffs on him when Schanke showed up, backed by four of the uniformed officers. "You were supposed to wait, Nick," Schanke lectured. "The guy made a run for it. I had to chase him back in here." Nick tried to ignore the guilt he felt at letting the man take the entire blame. It was imperative that mortals not discover the truth. He hoped Michael had gotten the bodies away. The uniformed officers dragged the man away. His wild rantings about "Kill them all! All!" fading in the distance. Nick hoped he hadn't pushed the man over the edge. He rather doubted it. Schanke looked around the room, taking in the broken chair and overturned furnishings. "He seems to have put up quite a struggle." "Yeah." Oh, what a tangled web . . ., he thought. "Listen, Skank, I've got something to take care of. I'll meet you back at the station." He had to make his escape before Cohen could arrive and delay him further. Schanke nodded. Nick returned to his Cadillac. He drove slowly down the street, looking for Michael. Four blocks away, he spotted him. He stood beside the street, cloaked in shadows, nearly invisible to mortal eyes. "What did you do with them?" Nick asked, rolling to a stop beside him. Michael smiled and shrugged. "They're on your rooftop." "What?!" "Don't worry. I jammed the door so nobody'd get up there. At dawn . . . poof." Nick and Michael both jumped as a third figure moved out of the shadows. "Good work, gentlemen," LaCroix smirked. "I knew you could do it, Nicolas." Nick refused to look at him. "Tsk. Tsk." LaCroix pouted. "I'm in trouble again." Michael covered raised a hand to cover his smile, but not before Nick had seen it. He glared at Michael. LaCroix grinned. "Goodnight, gentlemen." He faded back into the shadows. "Lighten up, Nickie. Remember, use the Force." Nick continued to glare at him for a moment, then relented. "So, you want to see more of this city than its outdoor recreation areas?" "I'd love to." "I'll meet you back at my place after my shift's over." "Sounds good to me." Michael lifted a hand as Nick drove away, tailfins catching the moonlight. Cousin Linda, brand new Duchovnik l.pulis@mail.utexas.edu