Usual disclaimers.  Permission to mel moser and crew to archive, thanks
gang.  This story has nothing to do with anything else that I've written,
so be warned!  Also, whilst there is nothing sexually graphic contained
here warranting an "adult" header, some parts of this story are suggestive,
and IMNSHO, should probably not be consumed by young adults.  Comments to
author at vampwrtr@innocent.com



FOREVER KNIGHT

"City of Denial"

The wind howled against the windows.  It reminded LaCroix of an unruly
beast, trying to pound its way in, where it was not wanted.  He allowed
himself to lie in bed for a moment longer.  He felt tired.  Exhausted
really, if he was to be honest with himself.  He closed his eyes again, and
listened to the rain pound against the windows with a ferocity that he had
not heard in many years.  It wasn't that the rain had not pummeled windows,
ledges and even people; no, it was simply that LaCroix hadn't taken the
time to hear it.

A loud thunder clap rumbled through the room.  LaCroix opened his eyes once
again, just in time to see a bolt of lightening, illuminate his darkened
room.  It penetrated the heavy draperies of the lavish suite he had booked
in the vintage hotel.  He couldn't really even recall the last time he had
been in San Francisco.  He knew it was sometime after the turn of the
century.  Or was it right before World War I?  Had it really been that
long?  LaCroix knew if he thought about it for a moment, he would recall
it, perfectly.  Somehow, he didn't really want to.  In any case, the cold
storm was a welcomed relief, to the unseasonable heat that had insinuated
itself upon the city by the bay.

LaCroix looked at the bedside clock:  Half past seven.  He must have been
tired to have slept so late.  He slowly rose from bed and padded into the
bathroom.  His eyes narrowed at the reflection in the mirror.  It was him;
but it wasn't.  The reflection looked almost gray in pallor, and had dark
circles under its eyes.  This was certainly not the look of an immortal.
LaCroix shook his head at himself.  He had allowed the events of the past
few years to take their toll; something he had never before tolerated.
Perhaps he was becoming soft.  Maybe a nice, hot shower would remove such
morbid thoughts from his mind.

As the hot water began to gently caress him, he let his mind wander.  What
had caused the sudden need to get away from Toronto for a few weeks?  He
had not experienced such restlessness within himself in centuries.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a sensation, a feeling.  No,
an idea.  He couldn't hold onto it, and the fleeting thought was gone.
LaCroix frowned.  There was something.  Something just out of reach of his
conscious mind.  Something important.  Eventually, he would be able to
discern it.

He felt slightly better after the shower, and he lazily began to dress.  He
glanced at himself in an armoire mirror.  Well, the black Armani reflection
looked better than the birthday suit one, which had greeted him in the
bathroom.  Perhaps all that was needed was a little stroll down to the bar
area of The Drake.  After all, a little snack couldn't possibly hurt.  He
smiled; at least it wouldn't hurt him.

Upon arriving downstairs in the lobby, he could hear the soft tinkling of
the piano coming from the bar.  He headed in the direction of the soft
strains of what he knew to be Chopin.  Exactly which of the Nocturnes it
was, he was not certain.  It was one that Nicholas used to play.  The
sudden turn of his mind toward his son caused a slight pang of guilt to
rise within him, which in turn caused a twinge of disgust at the feeling of
guilt.  What a tangled web emotions weave; always entwined and
interconnected, one leading to the next, like a perfectly timed cog in a
wheel.  LaCroix shook it off.  The fact that he and Nicholas were in the
midst of another of their rather infamous feuds, had no bearing on the tall
blonde LaCroix spotted on a barstool.  He wasted no time, heading in her
direction.

The blonde tried to cover her admiring look, as he sat down on the barstool
next to her.  She took a long drag on her cigarette, allowing it to play
between her lips.  LaCroix had to cover a smile.  Where was the challenge
in this?  Then again, occasionally, no contest could be a blessing.

The ancient vampire turned toward her, smiling his most charming smile,
"May I refresh your drink?"

"Please," she drawled as she pushed the glass in his direction.

He smiled at her and signalled the bartender to bring her another.  The
bartender set a new drink in front of her, then turned his attention to
LaCroix.

"A scotch and soda for the lady, and what can I get for you sir?"

"Nothing, thank you.  I am quite content to watch."

The bartender smiled, LaCroix handed him money, and waved the young man
off, indicating that he should keep the change.  Once again, LaCroix turned
his attention toward his next meal.  Ascertaining her situation could be
helpful.

"Travelling on business?"

"Yes.  How did you know?"

He smiled at her again, almost causing her to swoon, "It was a lucky guess.
A......hopeful guess."

"Well aren't you the charmer?  I don't ever remember seeing you here at The
Drake. I travel to San Francisco a lot on buisness.  Do you live here?"

"No," LaCroix purred, "I'm afraid not."  He paused as he leaned in even
closer to her, "Is that going to be a problem?"

She smiled as she leaned her face in closer to his, "No, I don't think so....."

She lightly touched her lips to his.  He smiled at her, but it never
reached his eyes.  This one held little promise for him, other than to
serve as a quick meal.  But then, isn't that all he was looking for?  He
frowned.  What a disturbing thought.  That nagging feeling returned again.
He tried to pinpoint it, but he couldn't.  Once again, it flitted away,
before he could nail down what it was.

The blonde was becoming impatient, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," came the smooth reply.  "Why don't we go somewhere more quiet?
Would you like that?"

She smiled and slid off her barstool, "Get to know each other better?
Sounds like a good idea to me."

LaCroix gently guided her through the lobby and up the elevator.  She
followed him down the hallway, until he came to the end, where the large
oak doors to his suite were located.  He slipped the key into the lock, and
opened the door for her.  Once inside, he closed the door and set the key
down on a table.  The blonde looked around the lavish suite.

"Wow....I've never seen the suites at this hotel.  Awesome."

An eyebrow involuntarily lifted, as he wondered if drinking her blood was
going to be somehow akin to Nicholas and his cows.  The blonde turned
toward him and quickly closed the distance, wrapping her arms around his
neck.  She pressed her body into his, and smiled up at him.  LaCroix
managed a slight smile at her, but nothing more.  All in all, he found her
rather irritating.

She covered his mouth with hers, in what was a slightly awkward kiss.  He
had no interest in her, except for the meal aspect.  She removed his
jacket, and then went after the buttons on his shirt: With her teeth.
LaCroix could feel his eyes begin to tinge gold and his fangs descend as
his annoyance grew.  She actually ripped several of the buttons off his
Donna Karan shirt with her teeth, and spit them out onto the floor.  It was
bad enough that she was not the sharpest tack in the box, but eating his
buttons was definitely not part of the evening's agenda.

LaCroix growled as he grabbed her head, pulling it into position.  As he
did so, she caught sight of the inhuman beast before her, and managed a
slight scream, before he slammed a hand over her mouth.  He quickly sank
his fangs into her neck, and within moments, he drained her.  He had been
correct in the bovine comparison; her blood was about as interesting as
Holstein.  He carelessly tossed the body into a nearby chair, and began
looking for his buttons on the floor, when he heard the knock on his door.

He looked up, startled.  Had someone heard the scream?  Looking around, he
decided discretion was the better part of murder.  He grabbed the body of
the blonde, and quickly stashed it in the armoire with the television.  He
wiped his mouth and chin, making sure no blood was left, and looking
slightly disheveled, he opened the door, allowing his full height and
demeanour to exude intimidation.

For the second time in as many minutes, LaCroix looked startled. His eyes
landed on an exquisite brunette, who was standing practically on top of the
door, as he opened it.

Her large brown eyes stared at him in concern, "I'm very sorry to disturb
you, but I'm in the suite next door, and well, I thought I heard a scream.
I wanted to make sure everything was all right over here."

Her eyes couldn't help but move downward, taking in the open shirt with the
ripped buttons, and more interesting to her, the bare chest which was
exposed beneath it.  She quickly forced herself to look back up at the
man's face, and when she did, she thought she detected a hint of amusement,
but if she had, it was gone more quickly than it had appeared.

"I can assure you, Mrs.......?"

"Uh, it's Miss.  Miss Edwards."

"Miss Edwards then.....let me assure you, that everything is as it should
be, and if my television disturbed you, I apologize.  It won't happen
again."

LaCroix smiled at her.  She frowned.  There was something not quite right
about this man.  Too smooth.  That was it.  There was something terribly
practiced in his manner.

LaCroix noted the frown, "Is there something else, Miss Edwards?"

"Yes.  If you continue to run around with your shirt like that, you'll
catch your death, Mr......"

"LaCroix.  Lucien LaCroix.  And allow me to assuage your concern, Miss
Edwards, by assuring you that I will not 'catch my death'."

"I was not concerned, Mr. LaCroix, merely trying to prevent a house call later."

"A House call?"

"I'm a doctor," she smiled at him, and despite himself, it somehow warmed him.

He negated the feeling faster than he could identify it, "Yes well, that's
very interesting, but if you will excuse me...."

"Of course.  Sorry to have disturbed you."

"Indeed.  I'm sorry that my shirt and its contents disturbed you," LaCroix
smiled devilishly, "Good night, Miss Edwards."

Before she could respond, he closed the door.  Samantha Edwards glared at
the oak portal.  How dare he close the door without allowing her a repartee
after such a remark?  Most unfair.  She slowly started back toward her open
door.  What an irritating man.  Obnoxious, slick, over-condident,
intelligent, handsome...... ....everything her mother always warned her
about.  Everything Samantha Edwards found irresistable in a man.  She
smiled as she closed her own door.  Yes, this little sojourn to San
Francisco might just turn out interesting after all.  At least now the
possiblity existed.  As a matter of fact, the possiblity was right next
door.

LaCroix smiled as he closed his door.  What an irritating woman.  But
interesting.  His smile was quickly replaced by a frown.  Interesting?  She
was a mortal.  A feeble, weak, emotive mortal.  The last thing he needed
was the encumberance of mortal company.  He would have to make sure to stay
out of her sight, and most certainly, her way.

He walked over to the armoire with the television, and extracted the dead
blonde.  He easily carried the body over to the window of his suite, and
balancing the body on one shoulder with a hand, he opened the window with
his other hand.  In a displaced whoosh of air, he took to the night sky.

end part 01
vampwrtr@innocent.com
http://members.aol.com/vampwrtr/forever_lacroix/

By the time LaCroix returned to The Drake, it was almost dawn.  He let
himself in the vampiric way, and closed the window behind him.  The blonde
was safely tucked away in the San Francisco Bay.  He would be long gone by
the time she reappeared, if ever.  He walked over to the room safe, ran a
combination, and opened it.  He reached in and pulled out a bottle.  He
grabbed a glass from the wet bar, and poured it half full with blood.  He
examined it as a wine connoisseur would a fine wine.  Finally he took a sip
and savoured the taste.  An artist of some talent, he surmised.  And a
rather unwilling donor from the taste of it.  He smiled.  Leave it to
Maurice to send him packing with a few interesting vintages.

He let himself plop down on the couch.  He still felt tired.  It was odd,
really.......

A soft knock startled LaCroix awake.  He shook his head, realizing that he
had fallen asleep right where he had plopped at dawn.  He glanced at his
watch; it was well past six in the evening.  Another knock.  He glared at
the door, but got up anyway.  He smiled at the bottle still sitting on the
wet bar.  A painter.  LaCroix opened the door, and his face took on a stern
look as his eyes met the dark brown ones.

"Miss Edwards....what brings you to my door?"

Samantha stared momentarily; he was still in the same clothes from the
night before.  His shirt was still open, and his chest still distracting
her from her thoughts.  LaCroix cleared his throat, bringing her back to
earth.

"Miss Edwards, may I help you?"

"I'm, uh, sorry, Mr. LaCroix....yes, I hope you can.  I seemed to have lost
a diamond earring last night, and was wondering if you had possibly spotted
it in the hallway today.  But, it looks as though you haven't been out...."

LaCroix looked at her icily, "No, I have not."

She frowned at him.  He didn't look well.  His colour was much to pale for
a man his age.

"Mr. LaCroix, are you all right?  You don't look particularly well."

"I assure you, my dear, that I am quite fine.  And I am sorry that you have
lost an earring.  I do hope that you find it."

Samantha could sense the dismissal, "Very well.  Mr. LaCroix, I should to
tell you, I'm a cardiac specialist at New York Hospital, and your pallor is
a symptom of concern.  If I can be of assistance to you, do let me know."

LaCroix forced at smile, "I'm quite fine, Miss Edwards, thank you."

"Good night then."

"Good night."

LaCroix closed the door.  Not only irritating, but nosy.  Just what he did
not need.  LaCroix let out a sigh of air.  A shower would help, he was
certain.

Samantha couldn't stop thinking about him.  Something just wasn't right.
The man looked like death warmed over.  She had seen some fairly hairy
cardiac patients in her day, but this guy was a walking case of death on a
platter, if she'd ever seen one.  Too bad, really.  She shook her head at
herself.  She was not in San Francisco to become personally involved with a
cardiac arrest waiting to happen.

She glanced in the mirror.  She looked worn out, bored, uninteresting.  Her
eyes narrowed as she came to a decision.  Slowly, a smile crept over her
face.  She headed into the closet area of her suite.  A little make over,
and then she would hit the town.  Nothing like a good little party to clear
out the doldrums.   She looked through her clothing, and smiled sharply as
the black evening dress caught her eye.  That would do it.  She grabbed it
and hung it on the door frame.  A quick shower, and then she was going to
experience the part of the city that had been touted to her; the clubs.

LaCroix landed in an alleyway behind what he knew to be San Francisco's
equivalent to the Raven.  La Bouch=E9e had been established just prior to th=
e
turn of the century.  It was among the first of such clubs for immortals to
appear on the west coast of America, hidden amidst the crush of mortal
society.  Of course, in the late nineteenth century, it had been more of a
saloon than a club.  LaCroix was always thankful for progress.  He adjusted
his suit and smiled.  Maybe he would find someone of interest within;
someone of his own kind.  A playmate perhaps.  Anything to get her out of
his mind.  Denial certainly wasn't helping.  Damn mortal.

The club was filled to capacity.  Gyrating bodies on the multicoloured
dance floor, grooving to the beat of the latest rap sensation.  LaCroix
never did understand the importance of rap, but it wasn't his club, so what
did it matter?  He moved with ease through the crowd, and it reminded him
of his own, given the mix of mortals and immortals.  The immortals parted
the way for him, sensing his age and power.  The mortals got out of the way
to keep from being mowed down.

A pretty red headed bartender greeted him with her seductive smile, "What
can I get you, sir?"

LaCroix smiled his best predator's smile, "I believe the House Special
would be just fine."

The red head smiled as she poured him a glass of bloodwine.  She handed it
to him, and he noticed her tongue gliding over her lips.  He couldn't help
but be slightly flattered at the young one's attempt to entice him.

He chuckled, "How much do I owe you?"

"This one's on the house.  The next one will be six dollars."

LaCroix raised an eyebrow at the price, "My, my, things are expensive on
this side of the border, aren't they?"

"Expensive, but you may find the fruits slightly sweeter...."

He laughed, "I shall beare that in mind, thank you."  He plopped a ten
dollar bill on the bar, "For your trouble."

She reached for the bill and ran her hand over his as she grasped the
paper, "That's more than kind, sir.  Let me know if you need anything
else."

The meaning was quite clear, and LaCroix just smiled at her, as he turned
and walked toward the dance floor, where he had a better view of the crowd.


SAN FRANSISCO 1916

LaCroix and Nicholas sat at a table in a busy pub.  It still had a saloon
feel to it, the owner not quick to move with progress.

A barmaid approached them, "Another round, fellas?"

"Please," Nicholas smiled.

The woman retreated and returned a moment later with two more glasses of
what appeared to be red wine.  LaCroix handed her some coins, and she
disappeared as quickly as she had come.

"Why do you insist on staying here, Nicholas?  It's so.....primitive,
really," LaCroix said, his voice displaying a tinge of annoyance.

"No one asked you to come along," came the curt reply.

LaCroix rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes, I am such a bother to you, I know."

A beautifully dressed brunette woman entered the room and made her way
toward the bar.  There was almost an immediate hush, as true "ladies" did
not appear in such establishments.  The woman ignored the staring from the
patrons, as she made her way to the bartender.  LaCroix and Nicholas,
though far enough from the bar, had no trouble listening in to their
conversation.

"I am looking for Mr. Harry Stanton," the woman stated.  "Have you seen him?=
"

The bartender looked at the woman and answered slowly, "No ma'am, don't
know any such fella, sorry."

"Now see here, I know that he frequents this....place.  There's no use
lying for him, I'll find him anyway."

"I'm sorry ma'am, I really can't help you."

The woman glared at the bartender, then flashed equally nasty looks around
the bar.

Nicholas was so captivated by not only her beauty, but her personality,
that he failed to catch the slight recognition that passed over LaCroix'
face as the woman had passed them.  LaCroix noticed his son's fascination
with the mortal, and smiled.  The woman, finished with the bartender,
raised her head and started back out of the establishment.  As she almost
passed their table, Nicholas stood up.

"Pardon me, but I couldn't help overhearing...."  She glared at him,
causing him to pause, then he continued, "Forgive me, I am Nicholas de
Brabant.  If I can help in anyway, I would be most pleased."

The woman looked at him with her big brown eyes, "And just why would you
wish to do that, Mr. de Brabant?"

LaCroix stood, "Because he is a gentleman, and you are obviously a lady who
needs assistance."

The woman turned to look at the tall man who spoke.  Even though she did
everything she could to keep her face impassive, it was fairly obvious that
she was attracted immediately to the ancient vampire.  Nicholas was
slightly stunned at LaCroix' interest:  He never bothered with mortals.
The young vampire eyed his father as the elder spoke.

"It wouldn't do to leave a damsel in distress, which you seem to be."

"And you are?"

"I am Lucien LaCroix, your humble servant."

Nick's eyes grew wide.  Who's humble servant?  Nick glared at LaCroix,
convinced that the latter was merely toying with the woman, because Nick
had shown interest in her.

"Have you seen my husband, Mr. LaCroix?"

"I am afraid that I have not, no."

"Then you are of no use to me.  I bid you both good night."

The woman turned in a rustle of skirts, and walked out of the bar.
Nicholas turned to LaCroix, unsuccessfully hiding his amusement, "Well
LaCroix, perhaps you need to polish your irresistible charm."

LaCroix was not amused, "Mind yourself, Nicholas, I am still your father."

"You're just angry because she brushed you off."

"Nonsense.  A mere mortal."

"A beautiful woman, LaCroix."

Nick started to follow the woman out of the pub, but stopped when LaCroix sp=
oke.

"Where are you going?"

"To help the damsel in distress, of course."

Nick walked out.  LaCroix downed the last of his bloodwine and growled,
"Not without me, you don't."

SAN FRANSISCO 1998

"Well, well, they'll let just about anyone in here, won't they?"

LaCroix snapped out of his reverie at the sound of the familiar voice.  He
turned to face Samantha Edwards, and nearly lost his breath at the sight of
her in the form-fitting black dress.

"Miss Edwards," he couldn't cover his surprise, "What are you doing here?"

She smiled at him, "Looking for a good time.  The concierge at the hotel
suggested this place."  LaCroix merely raised an eyebrow at that thought,
and she continued, "The real question is, what are you doing here?  You
don't seem the party animal type to me."

He glare at her slightly, "I am most certainly not a 'party animal', I
assure you.  I simply desired a change of scenery."

"Oh, I see.  You haven't told me, what brings you to San Fransisco.
Business or pleasure?"

LaCroix smiled, "Pleasure, and you?"

"A little bit of both.  There's a medical convention in town.  I suppose in
that way, I will be on the giving end, not the receiving....."

"Ah, but my dear Miss Edwards, 'we tire of those pleasures we take, but
never of those we give'."

"John Petit-Senn."

LaCroix was pleasantly surprised, "And well read too.....will there be a
safe subject?"

"It's a little like sex, Mr. LaCroix; safety is an illusion."

"Yes, well....."

She could sense his discomfort, and his resistance to open up to her.  She
decided to let him off the hook, for now.

"Enjoy yourself, Mr. LaCroix."

Samantha started away, but LaCroix gently restrained her with a hand on her
arm, "Miss Edwards, do be careful; the....element in here can be somewhat
unsavory."

She looked at him, a glint in her eye, "Yes, I can see that."

LaCroix glared as he realized she meant him.  He let go of her quickly,
"Yes, well.....do as you wish.  Good night."

He downed the remaining contents of his glass and turned on his heel in a
huff.  Samantha started laughing.  She simply couldn't help it.  This
enigma of a man was becoming more complex by the minute, and now he was
behaving like a five year old.  He stopped on a dime as he heard the
laughter, but he did not turn around.  His back merely straightened in
irritation.  He shook his head and proceeded to walk out the front door of
the club.

Samantha shook her head and followed him, but when she got to the street,
there was no sign of him.  It was as though he had simply disappeared.  She
hailed a nearby cab, and got in, asking the driver to take her back to The
Drake.  As they neared Market street, before heading up to Union Square,
she asked the man to stop.  It was such a beautiful night, she decided that
she would walk the rest of the way.

"Are you sure?  This isn't the best part of town, you know," the cabby offer=
ed.

"I'll be fine."

She handed him a ten and told him to keep the change.  She got out of the
cab and headed down Market street.  She figured she'd walk down to the end
of the trolley line, and maybe take a trolley up to Union Square.  Maybe.
As she walked along, she developed an uneasy feeling.  She looked behind
her.  No one there.  How silly.  She kept walking.

After a few blocks, she noticed that the streets were filled with trash and
some doorways held the unfortunate of society, sleeping as best they could
with cardboard boxes for blankets.  She had heard that some areas of Market
street were notorious for drug deals and hookers, but as yet, she had seen
no such thing.  Only the poor homeless.

The feeling of being followed was back, and this time when she turned, she
saw a figure dart into a doorway.  She quickened her pace.  As she came to
a corner stoplight, she was grabbed from behind, and she felt the prick of
a sharp blade at her throat.  Her mouth was covered by a gloved hand.

"Don't look behind you, and don't try to scream, and you'll live.  I just
want your purse."

Samantha was terrified.  She tried to take the purse off of her shoulder,
but she couldn't reach with the man holding her the way he was; she tried
to speak.  She was rewarded with a hard blow to her head.  That was the
last thing she remembered before the darkness claimed her.

end part 02
vampwrtr@innocent.com
http://members.aol.com/vampwrtr/forever_lacroix/

LaCroix had been pacing his room for hours.  Most of the night, in fact.
He hadn't heard her come back.  Perhaps she was engaging in mating with
some boar of a mortal.  A growl escaped his lips, which further irritated
him.  Why did he care?  What was she to him?  Nothing.  She was nothing to
him, but a possible meal.  He continued to pace.  What was it about San
=46ransisco that always brought out the worst in him?

SAN FRANSISCO 1916

The woman sat on the couch in the Victorian house.  Nicholas had LaCroix
cornered in back of the room.  They were whispering.

"LaCroix, we have to help her."

"We do not have to do anything of the kind.  Her husband is missing.  Her
mortal husband.  This means nothing to us.  She is only good for a possible
meal, Nicholas, nothing more."

To LaCroix' surprise, Nicholas smiled, "Good try, LaCroix, but I'm not
buying."  LaCroix glared and Nick continued, "I can sense it, LaCroix.  You
feel something for her, don't try and tell me otherwise.  She stood up to
you in the saloon, and I think you liked it."

LaCroix glared at his son, "Don't be daft."

"Fine.....I'll just have to take all the glory when I find him then."

LaCroix looked hard at his son, "What makes you think the man wants to be
found, Nicholas?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

LaCroix rolled his eyes, "Sometimes you are so naive.  When a married man,
who frequents saloons and gambling establishments suddenly disappears, it
usually indicates either foul play or some kind of willingness on his
part."

"You're always such a pessimist."

"A realist, Nicholas."

Nick walked over to the pretty woman in the large hat.  He smiled, "Mrs.
Stanton, I will do what I can to help you find your husband."

The woman's eyes shined, "Thank you.  I shall be ever grateful for whatever
assistance you can provide, Mr. de Brabant."  She looked seductively over
at LaCroix, "And you as well, Mr. LaCroix...."

Nick started to mention that LaCroix was not to be involved, but the sound
of the Ancient's voice cut him off, "Of course, my dear, we shall do
whatever we can."

Nick glared at LaCroix; he was up to something, the younger vampire could
feel it.  He just didn't know what it was that the Ancient was planning.
Nick smiled at the woman, in spite of the bad feeling he was sensing in the
pit of his stomach.

"It's all settled then," Nick pronounced, "don't worry, Mrs. Stanton, I'm
sure we can help you find him."

Nicholas saw the woman out the front door, then he turned back to his father=
.

"What are you up to, LaCroix?"

"You have such a vivid imaginiation, Nicholas."

"I can feel it, you're up to something."

"Balderdash."

Nick glared, but let it go for the moment.  There really wasn't much he
could do; at least, not yet.

SAN FRANSISCO 1998

The sound of the elevator doors opening and closing, snapped him out of the
past.  He detected Samantha's heartbeat as she walked down the hallway.
She was alone.  He moved quickly to the door, and put his hand on the
handle.  But then he froze.  This was simply unacceptable.  He could not,
would not become involved with a mortal.  The whole thing was ridiculous.
He must be hungry.  That was it.  He was hungry, and the beast was looking
for a quick meal.  Denial could be used to one's advantage.  LaCroix turned
and stalked over to the wet bar, and poured himself another glass from the
open bottle which was sitting there.  That's when he thought he heard it.
Stifled crying and sniffles.  He frowned as he looked toward his own door.
Yes, it was indeed coming from Samantha Edwards.

Once again, LaCroix moved to the door, his hand poised on the knob.  But he
couldn't open it.  No, it would be better for both of them if he just
minded his own business.  If he did not, she would wind up dead, and he
would have another face to remember.  LaCroix closed his eyes.  So many
faces over the centuries, and with a vampire's memory, each recalled with
perfect clarity.  It was a lot to live with, even for one of his
callousness and age.  Besides, he felt fairly certain that the mortal world
was much more interesting with Samantha Edwards in it.  There were other
mortals, less fascinating, who would serve as the occasional meal.

He heard her door close.  He sighed, as his hand fell off the door knob.
He walked over to the wet bar and picked up the glass.  He drained it
quickly and poured himself another.  The first rays of dawn began to seep
in through the windows of his suite.  He walked over to the heavy draperies
and closed them, shutting out the light, and the mortal world with it.

Samantha awoke covered in sweat.  Her heart was pounding, and she realized
that she was dreaming.  She shuddered as the last of the dream fell away,
and her conscious mind took control.  She got up and walked into the
bathroom.  After switching on a light, she could see that her watch read
four o'clock.  She had slept the day away.  Not really surprising,
considering what kind of night it had been.

A policeman had found her, and taken her to the hospital.  After a few
stitches, she was taken to the precinct to give a statement, then dropped
off at her hotel.  All in all, it had been a serious flop of an evening,
and to top it all off, she had to cancel all her credit cards.

She looked into the mirror.  Her face was still slightly swollen on the
left side, and the stitches on her forehead were not very pretty.  A bruise
ran from her forehead all the way down to her jaw.  She sighed, but ran the
water for a shower anyway.

After a quick shower, she put on jeans and a sweater, and decided to call
room service.  Food might make her feel better.  She picked up the phone
and then put it back down, as an idea struck her.  Perhaps dinner for two
would be more interesting.  A slight smile lit up her swollen face as she
headed out of her room and across the hall.  Her hand was poised to knock
on his door, but she hesitated.

LaCroix was at the wet bar, pouring himself a glass of bloodwine, when he
sensed a presence at his door.  With vampiric speed, he was at the door,
listening.  It was her heartbeat.  She was standing on the other side of
his door.  He waited.  No knock ever came, and he heard the heartbeat
recede, and the door to the room across the hall close.  He leaned against
the inside of his door.  What was it that she going to say to him?  That
she went home with some cretin of a man, was taken advantage of, and then
cried all the way back to the hotel?  He had tried to warn her of the
element at La Bouch=E9e; and he hadn't meant just his own kind, though that
was of primary concern.  Concern?  He shook his head in disgust.  It must
be in the air or something, and whatever it was, vampires were most
certainly not immune.

SAN FRANSISCO 1916

LaCroix knocked on her door, one hand was not so cleverly hidden behind his
back.  The door opened, and Gloria Stanton stood in an elegant gown, taking
his breath away.  LaCroix recovered quickly and smiled as he handed her the
bouquet of red roses.

"You look lovely, Mrs. Stanton."

"Thank you, Mr. LaCroix."

"I am so delighted that you could accept my invitation to the ballet this
evening."

"Is Mr. de Brabant not joining us this evening?"

"I'm afraid that Nicholas no longer patronizes the ballet."

LaCroix couldn't resist a slight smile.  His smile quickly faded however,
as he noticed Mrs. Stanton's look of concern.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Stanton?"

"No, it's just.....well, I'm not sure that it's proper.  I mean, how will
that look, a married woman going off to the ballet with a man other than
her husband?"

"And it would have been better to go to the ballet with two men?"

"You know what I mean, Mr. LaCroix.  This way, it looks like, well......"

"Yes.  It looks as though we are courting.  I see."

LaCroix felt disappointed, but his practiced persona did not betray it to he=
r.

"You do understand, don't you?"

"Of course.  You will keep the flowers though, won't you?"

She smiled at him, "Well, I really shouldn't...."

"It would be a shame for them to wilt."

She smiled, "I'm sorry that I can't invite you in, but that would be most
inappropriate, given the circumstances."

Circumstances?  LaCroix looked at her sharply, and he saw it; she was very
attracted to him.  She was not really trying to hide it.

"Yes, I see," was all he said.

"Perhaps," she drawled, "it would be different without so many prying eyes."

She looked at him meaningfully.  LaCroix smiled.  It was an open invitation
to call upon her later, when most everyone else in town was asleep.

"Night was created for the creatures who know how to use it to their
advantage."  They smiled at each other.  He took her hand and kissed it
lightly, "Until later, ma cherie...."

SAN FRANSISCO 1998

LaCroix had just showered and dressed when he heard the sound of the
elevator doors opening and closing.  He also heard the clanking of dishes
and the slight squeaking of wheels.  Room service was being delivered, and
unless he missed his guess, he knew exactly where it was going.  She was
apparently planning on staying in all evening.  At least he knew where she
would be.  He caught himself; it really wouldn't do to continue to allow
these thoughts of possession to enter his mind.

He waited until he heard the door to her room close and the man from room
service get on the elevator.  He opened his window and took in a deep
breath of air.  He could smell all the wonderful things of San Fransisco.
The salt water, the sourdough, the wine, and the crisp breeze, which
carried the smells and sounds of the city upon it.  The air was fresh and
cold, just as it should be for January.  The strange heat wave that had
plagued the city the week before seemed to be a thing of the past.  The
hunt would prove most stimulating tonight, of this he was sure.  He took to
the air, and to the experiences waiting for him in the night.



end part 03
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The man was walking along by himself in Golden Gate Park.  LaCroix had
spotted him from the air, and had been stalking him for the past half hour.
There really was no sport to this; it was far too easy.  The man was
disturbed about something, and was out for a stroll in an attempt to clear
his befuddled mortal mind.  LaCroix was becoming bored.

As the man came over a slight incline, and into an area with a lot of
trees, LaCroix pounced on him.  The man never had a chance.  LaCroix sank
his fangs into the man's neck, and drank deeply.  He was right, the man was
upset.  His wife had left him that very afternoon for another man, and the
man couldn't understand what he had done wrong.

LaCroix pulled away, before he drained the mortal.  He grabbed the man's
head with his two hands, and stared into his eyes, concentrating on the
man's heartbeat.

"You never saw me.  You were walking through the park, and a rather large
and nasty wasp stung you, twice, in the neck."

"Wasp......"

"Yes."

LaCroix was about to let the man go, when a sly smile appeared on his lips,
"About your wife....."

"My wife..."

"Yes.  Just let her go.  You should never give a woman your heart.  It can
only end up one way:  Unpleasantly."

LaCroix took off in a whir of vampiric wind.  The man blinked his eyes as
he reached for his neck.  Then he looked around for the wasp, but didn't
see it.  He decided that running home was a good idea.

By the time LaCroix arrived back in his hotel room, it was after five in
the morning.  Pouring himself a glass of bloodwine, he settled on his
couch, reading.  The book was mildly amusing.  It was a fictitious account
of a vampire cop trying to make good.  LaCroix could not help but think of
Nicholas.  Odd how art imitated life.  Or was that always the other way
around?  LaCroix was not quite sure.

He had not stirred until he heard the sounds of the door open and close
across the hall.  He looked up from his book.  Then he looked at his watch;
eight o'clock.  He was surprised that he had read that long.  He frowned,
and looked back down at his book, determined to ignore the sounds in the
hallway.

He looked up not seconds later, when he sensed Samantha once again standing
in front of his door.  He didn't move.  He waited.  Nothing.  Then he heard
her walk to the elevators.  An impish smile spread across his lips.  He
slipped out into the hallway with the stealth that only his kind possessed,
and stood directly behind her.  Then, smiling like a school boy about to
send his mate's underwear up the flagpole, he tapped her on the shoulder.

She screamed bloody murder.  The piercing sound startled LaCroix, who
glared at her as she turned around, screaming.  Without thinking she lunged
at him, in an attempt to defend herself.  He caught both of her arms and
held them still.

"Miss Edwards, calm down.  I did not mean to startle--"

His voice caught in his throat when he saw the left side of her face.
Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.  LaCroix let go of her arms and
gently held her face in his hands, inspecting the damage.

"What happened?  Who did this to you?"

"I....I was mugged the other night."

"Mugged?  The other....you mean the night I saw you at La Bouch=E9e?"  She
shook her head yes, so he continued, "Someone from the club?"

"N-no.  A man on the street.  I was walking on Market when I was attacked
from behind."

"Why on earth were you walking on Market street by yourself late at night?"

"I don't know, I just needed to walk....."

She looked up at him with tear filled brown eyes; he had scared her half to
death, sneaking up on her like that.  He waged an inner battle for a
moment, but any thoughts of staying away from her were eradicated, when she
put her arms around his waist, and fell into him.  He could feel the
shuddering of her body as she cried.  After a moment, he wrapped his arms
around her, pulling her closer.

"It's all right," his velvety voice soothed, "you're safe now."

Several emotions played across his face as he considered the options.  He
felt absolute anger at the insolent mortal who dared harm her; and he felt
guilt at not having been there to protect her.  The worst thing of all, was
facing the fact that he felt all of these emotions.  Detachment with her
was not going to be an option.  He kissed the top of her head.  Carefully
putting his mask of indifference back into place, he pulled away from her
and looked her in the eyes.

"Come on, you're in no condition to be venturing out into the world today."

Without another word, he led her back into her own suite, closing the door
behind them.  He closed the draperies quickly, and Samantha didn't say a
word as he sat her down on the couch next to him, and then pulled her to
him in an embrace.  He held her while she cried, until finally, exhausted,
she fell asleep.  As he sat holding her, his mind wandered, back to a
different time in the same city.

SAN FRANSISCO 1916

It was well after one in the morning, when LaCroix flew up to her second
story window and peered in.  He smiled; she had been preparing for his
arrival.  She was perfectly coiffed and was wearing an extremely seductive
neglig=E9e.  Women of this time and place fascinated him; they were the very
dichotomy of being.  Prim and proper on the outside, yet promiscuous and
passionate on the inside.  There was something about the duality of it
which captured his attention.

He reached for a nearby tree branch, to give the illusion that such was his
means for lurking outside her second story window, and he gently rapped on
the glass.  Gloria Stanton looked out and smiled at him.  She opened the
window.

"Mr. LaCroix, do get in here, before you fall to your death."

He smiled as he crawled in through the window, "Somehow I doubt that would
have been the case."

She quickly closed the window behind him and pulled the curtains.  Then she
turned to face him, an alluring smile on her lips.  He took in the curves
of her figure and smiled.  She was a very beautiful specimen of womanhood.
He said nothing, nor did he move.  He merely stood there, taking in her
beauty.  LaCroix had decided to let her take all the initiatives.

She walked over to him and placed her arms around his neck.  He still made
no move to touch her.  She pulled his head down toward hers and lightly
kissed his lips.  She looked into his icy blue eyes and smiled.  She pulled
his face toward hers again, and this time, kissed him harder.  He responded
by wrapping his arms around her waist as the kiss deepened, pulling her
willing body close to his.

Gloria gently removed his jacket and his tie, never breaking their kiss.
LaCroix smiled inwardly; the whole business of behaving properly was merely
an act.  She was obviously not without experience.  Still, he allowed her
to dictate the speed at which their tryst moved along.  She began undoing
the buttons of his shirt, and then her mouth moved down his neck, causing
him to shudder slightly as he felt her mouth moving along his jugular vein.
He could feel his fangs start to descend, and his eyes were tinged with
flecks of gold.

As she continued to follow the buttons of his shirt with her mouth, LaCroix
allowed his hands to explore her through the silk of her neglig=E9e.  Once
his shirt was open, she gently pushed him back, onto the bed.  He pulled
her on top of him, and kissed her with such desire, it took her breath
away.  While she had been attracted to him immediately, she had been afraid
that he was a man like her husband - in denial of true feelings and
emotions - she decided that perhaps, first impressions could be deceiving.
Besides, Gloria Stanton could never resist a challenge.

LaCroix could feel the vampire within him trying to emerge.  He continued
to kiss her as he rolled on top of her, the beast demanding to be in the
dominant position for the kill.  He could smell her blood, and the lust
contained in that blood.  Her lust for him.  This, above all else, aroused
the carefully hidden humanity in him; the humanity that the vampire always
tried to deny.  He decided that the beast could wait a little while longer,
as he allowed the man in him to gently make love to her.

SAN FRANSISCO 1998

LaCroix awoke with a start, Samantha Edwards still asleep in his arms.  He
let his head fall back against the couch, as he quietly let air out of his
mouth.  His first thought had been right; do not become involved.  How many
times had he preached this theology to his children?  They had never
listened to him, and now, he was on the verge of betraying his own credo.

He felt Samantha stir, and when he lifted his head to look down at her, she
was staring up at him.

"Lucien....how long have we been asleep?"

He raised an eyebrow at the use of his first name, but then he looked at
his watch to answer her question, "Most of the day."

She tightened her arms around him and settled her head back onto his chest,
"Oh."

He smiled, "Perhaps we should think about motivating."

"Maybe....have any ideas where you'd like to go for dinner?"

The question caught him off guard and he merely looked at her.

"The least I can do for the man who babysat me all day, is buy him dinner."

"I assure you, Miss Edwards, that is quite unnecessary."

"Please call me Sam, it seems kind of silly for us to refer to each other
in such a formal manner since we've, well, slept together."

LaCroix laughed, "At least in the literal sense of the word."  He then
looked at her as it hit him, "Sam?"

"That's what my friends call me.  I do hope I can consider you amongst my
friends?"

"Indeed."

"I'd hate to think I've been curled up in the arms of an enemy all day."

He smiled as he considered that the natural predator in him preyed upon
humans, and in that sense, she had indeed spent the day in the embrace of
her enemy.

"I must confess, that it doesn't feel quite right, referring to you as 'Sam'=
."

"A little too masculine for you?"

He smiled, "I think I shall call you Samantha."

She groaned, "Only my mother calls me Samantha."  She looked into the
mischievous blue eyes, "All right, so now they'll be two people who call me
Samantha."  Concern suddenly took over her features, and she paused while
she ran her hand along his face, "Are you all right?  You feel so cold."

"I'm hoping that someone will warm me up."

He smiled at her, and she gently reached up and kissed his lips.  He
allowed himself to kiss her fully.  Then he felt the first tinge of the
vampire.  He needed to feed.  He broke away from her and pulled her off the
couch.

"Come on, I believe it's time to feed you.  I'll give you fifteen minutes
to freshen up, and then I'll be back."

"I thought I was buying dinner."

"My dear, where I come from, it would be considered an insult for a woman
to pay for a man."

She smiled at him and rolled her eyes, "What sort of ancient civilization
were you tossed out of anyway?"

He headed out the door and muttered, "You have no idea...."

end part 04
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LaCroix guided Samantha through the door of a restaurant that he was
certain he would have liked, was he to partake of food:  Fior d'Italia.
The cuisine was Roman in its smell; as to the taste, he could not attest.
The decor was what one would have expected of an upscale Italian restaurant
in San Fransisco, the large high backed booths affording a certain amount
of privacy.

LaCroix slipped the host a ten and said, "A nice booth in the back would be
lovely."

"Certainly sir, please follow me."

LaCroix guided Samantha gently as the host led them through the restaurant.
They were taken to a quiet high backed booth in the back room.  Very
quiet, very private.  As they sat down, Samantha smiled at LaCroix.  After
a few moments of smiling, he felt slightly uncomfortable.

He looked at her, "What?"

"Thank you."

"For?"

"For all of it.  For taking care of me, for bringing me here.  You've got a
lot of style, in addition to your natural, enigmatic charm."

He looked down, slightly embarrassed.  Then smiling, he handed her a menu,
"Find something you fancy."

She grinned at him and opened her menu.  After a few minutes, she realized
he wasn't looking at his menu.

"I take it, that you already know what you're going to have?"

"I'm not really hungry, I fear," he smiled at her seductively, "at least
not for food."

It was her turn to blush, and she did.  "Lucien.....behave."

He chuckled, "Why should I wish to do that?  Isn't the danger of my
unpredictability the very thing that attracts you?"

She looked hard at him, "Maybe."

The waiter came by and interrupted them momentarily to take their order.
Samantha settled on Linguine and clams, which caused LaCroix to smile.
When he was mortal, he enjoyed a lot of fish, and any kind of shellfish was
always a favouite.  LaCroix ordered a bottle of wine, which he felt would
compliment the dish she was going to consume.

"Tell me, Lucien," Samantha asked in between bites of clam and pasta, "What
do you do; for a living, I mean?"

LaCroix smiled smoothly, "I'm an.....entrepreneur."

"Where?"

"Canada."

"Kinda far from home, aren'tcha?"

"Indeed."

An awkward silence filled the table for a few moments.  Samantha looked at
LaCroix, and once again was struck by his pallor.  The doctor in her was
coming to the forefront.

She tried to keep her voice even, "I am a little concerned about you, you know."

"Concerned?"

"Between your pallor and your lack of appetite, yes, I am concerned.  Many
men your age--"

"--Men my age?"

"No offense Lucien, but you're not thirty anymore, and a man your age has
to be aware of taking care of his heart."

He smiled at her, "My heart is just fine."  He decided a change in subject
was in order, "How are the clams?"

"Terrific.  Wanna try one?"

She held a clam on her fork, somewhere near his mouth.  He shook his head,
his upper lip slightly curling in disgust.  She put her fork down and
looked at him again.

"The thought of eating turns your stomach, doesn't it?"

He smiled, preparing to side step her once again, "Samantha, there really
is nothing for you to worry about.  Now enjoy yourself; the evening is just
beginning."

She looked at him suspiciously, but let it go by starting a new topic.

"Tell me Lucien, how do you feel about the Impressionists?"

He smiled, "Is this a test?"

"Absolutely."

He smiled more, "I can truly say that I have a unique understanding of them."

She looked at him with an expression of great amusement, "Knew them
personally, did you?"

"Absolutely."

She laughed.  The joyful sound of it caused a sensation within him that he
had not experienced in almost eight centuries:  He felt the weight of his
burdened heart lift for the most fleeting of moments.  He looked deeply
into her eyes, and held them for a long time, with the intesity of his
gaze.  Samantha felt him reach into her soul, only to shy away from its
ability to touch him.

Their conversation during dinner travelled from Impressionism to the
Reinassance period to the effect of Imperialism on Western Civilizations.
LaCroix enjoyed chatting with one so astute, and he found himself impressed
with her ability to keep pace with him.  Few mortals ever did.

After dinner, he took her to the Pier, where they strolled around the old
boardwalks.  She walked over to the railing and looked out, toward the San
Fransisco Bay.  LaCroix moved to stand right behind her, putting his arms
around her, leaning his hands on the rail.  She turned her head and looked
up at him, smiling.  He allowed himself to press into her back slightly.

"This is nice," Samantha's voice was barely above a whisper, "It's....comfy."

"Yes," was all LaCroix managed to say.  He was surprised at his own
indulgence into feelings that normally, he would deny and stuff down until
they suffocated.  She was a mortal.  He needed to remind himself of it.

Samantha interrupted his self-flagellation by covering his lips with her
own.  He resisted slightly at first, still caught up in his negative
thoughts.  She turned to face him, never allowing their lips to part, and
wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him harder.  He responded by
pulling her closer to him.  She felt good in his arms.  He broke away from
her suddenly.

"Lucien, what's wrong?"

He couldn't look in her eyes; he had to get control of whatever part of him
she had awakened.  It was the part of him that had lain dormant for the
better portion of 800 years.  The part of him that he despised for its
weakness.  The part of him that during the past two millennia, he had tried
to eradicate completely.  He did not want whatever humanity was left in him
to surface.  He shoved it down, as he let his arms fall from her.  A
vampire could not allow his heart to warm up to humanity; his own survival
made this so.

His voice was curt, "Nothing is wrong, I just think I should get you back.
You need the rest."

He started to move away, but she grabbed him by the arms and looked into
his eyes.  She knew he was brushing her off; what she didn't know, was the
reason why.

"Lucien....what are you doing?  Don't push me away."

He smiled at her, "I'm not."

"You are.  I want to know why.  What did I do wrong?"

He sighed heavily, "You have done nothing wrong."

He turned away from her.  She pulled him back.

"Please don't turn away from me."

He took her hands, "This is neither the time nor the place for this discussion."

"Fine.  Then we'll have it back at the hotel."

She stalked off toward the queue of cabs, and he followed her.  The cab
ride back to Union Square and The Drake was silent.  She got out of the cab
and walked into the lobby, not waiting as LaCroix paid the fare.  By the
time he entered the lobby, he spotted her waiting for him at the elevators.
They rode up to the top floor without exchanging so much as a glance.
When the doors opened, Samantha walked quickly to her own door, pulling out
the key.  LaCroix exited the elevator and stood in the hallway, watching
her.  She turned back to him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

She glared at him, "Are you coming in and are we talking about this, or are
you going to go hide in your room?"

"Samantha, I'm not sure that either of us is up to this discussion right at
the moment."

"Fine."

Before he could say another word, she slammed the door shut.  LaCroix
stared at the door for a moment, and then slowly, he went into his own
suite.  He leaned against the closed door.  After a moment, he walked to
the wet bar and poured himself a glass of bloodwine.  He went to the
windows and stared out at the night.  The evening had not turned out at all
as he had anticipated.

LaCroix was certain that the emotions he was experiencing were just echos
of the past.  A vampire's heart was as cold as stone; this had been proven
over and over again to him.  He knew that he should just take her.  Take
her and get it over with.  After all, it was inevitable.  If he knew
anything, he knew that.

SAN FRANSISCO 1916

The sweet taste of peaches mixed with jasmine filled his mouth, as he drank
from Gloria Stanton.  The mortal woman's lust exploded on his tongue.  He
felt himself at the brink of no return; if he didn't stop, he would very
soon be unable to stop.  He heard her moan, as he continued the rhythmic
motion of his hips while he fed from her.

As his own fulfillment neared, the vampire took over.  LaCroix barely heard
her cry of completion, as the beast in him reached its own culmination.
Gloria Stanton went limp in his arms.  The vampire sated, his eyes reverted
to blue, and he looked down at the woman he was holding.

"This was one challenge that you should have avoided, my dear Mrs. Stanton;
but then, I hardly gave you a choice, did I?"

SAN FRANSISCO 1998

The knock on his door brought him back to the present.  He knew it was her.
He could hear her heartbeat.  For a moment, he was frozen, while he fought
with his own duplicity.  Finally, he walked slowly to the door, and opened
it.  They stared at each other for a moment.  Without a word, she took his
face in her hands, and pulling him down toward her, she kissed him with a
hunger that caused LaCroix to almost start.  She held him very close, and
continued to kiss him deeply.  He could sense her need for him, her desire,
and it ignited his own fire.

She pulled back momentarily and whispered to him, "I'm sorry."  She kissed
him on the cheek, and then on the lips lightly, "Forgive me..."

He gently pushed her away and looked into her eyes, "Shh," he placed a kiss
on her forehead, "You have nothing for which to be sorry.  I think it is I,
who should be offering the apology."

"I know how we can make it up to each other."

She smiled at him, and leaned into his body with hers.  He held her
tightly.  The vampire, awakening with its lust and desire to feed, was
urging him to take her.  But there was something else nagging at him.  A
part of himself that was normally kept hidden, like an embarrassing flaw.
That part of him desired her, but oddly, not at the price the vampire would
exact.

Over the centuries, LaCroix had found little reason to control the vampire
in lustful situations.  Why should he?  Mortals were meals, and
occasionally, good for pleasure before the meal, but nothing more.
Samantha was different.  She was more to him than a simple meal.  Samantha
was lying on him, on the couch, kissing him; or trying to.

Samantha stopped pressing her lips to his momentarily, "Lucien?  Where are you?"

"I'm here, with you."

"No, you disappeared again, just like you did at the Pier.  What is it?
What scares you about this, about us?"

It was a long time before he answered, "I do not wish to hurt you, Samantha."

"Lucien, let's get something straight.  I don't expect you to make love to
me and then ask me to marry you.  I'm not even sure that I expect you to
stay in touch once we've left San Fransisco.  I'm an adult, and I live in
the real world."  She kissed his lips lightly, "I want you."  She kissed
him harder, "Very much."

She pressed her hips into his, as she kissed him with a soulful passion.
LaCroix could resist her no longer.  His arms wrapped around her, and he
allowed himself to respond fully.  It had been too long, and she felt so
very good to him.

end part 05
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LaCroix pulled Samantha's naked body closer to his, as he snuggled into her
back.  Her warmth felt good to him.  He wrapped his arms around her, and in
her sleep, she pressed back into him.  He gently kissed the tiny bite marks
on the back of her shoulder, recalling the electrifying taste of raspberry
and chocolate.  He could feel the vampire hovering, just beneath the
surface of his control.  It had wanted more, but he had denied it.  He
wasn't entirely sure why, but he didn't want to kill her.  She had peaked
his curiosity on several levels, and he wasn't finished with her.  Not just
yet.  His mind wandered as he finally drifted off to sleep.

SAN FRANSISCO 1916

By the time LaCroix had properly disposed of Gloria Stanton, it was almost
dawn.  He entered the foyer of the Victorian house he shared with his son,
just ahead of the first rays of light.  Nicholas appeared on the stairwell
before him.

"Where have you been?"

"Don't take that tone with me, Nicholas.  I assure you, it will only incur
my wrath."

LaCroix stalked into the sitting room on the right.  Nick followed.

"You've been with Mrs. Stanton, haven't you?"

"And if I have?"

"When she chose not to attend the ballet with you, you should have taken
the hint."

"Oh, but I did take the hint."

LaCroix' smile annoyed Nick to no end.  It was ever so smug.  Nick regarded
the Ancient before him for a long time.  Then it hit him; LaCroix had taken
her.

"What have you done?"

LaCroix hissed at his son, "What you would never have the moxie to do,
Nicholas."  Nick glared at him and LaCroix continued, "I allowed myself to
indulge in mortal pleasures, and then I sated my true nature."  He smiled
again at Nick, who was now gritting his teeth, "But don't worry, I made
sure that she was satisfied in the process."

"Until you took her life...."

"Yes, well, such things do happen."

"You despicable excuse for a being," Nick spat as he lunged for LaCroix.

LaCroix merely stepped aside, laughing all the more at Nick.  Nick got up
and charged his father once again, and LaCroix caught his arm, pulling it
back behind Nick in a most painful position.  The Ancient leaned into
Nick's ear from behind him.

"Don't you dare raise your hand to me, Nicholas.  In the long run, I did
the woman a favour.  I saved her from finding out the painful truth that
her husband is quite dead."

Nick turned his head as best he could to look at LaCroix in the eyes, "How
do you know?"

LaCroix grinned, "Because, I killed him."

He let go of Nick, who turned and stared at LaCroix.  A look of knowing
filled his eyes.

"You planned this, didn't you?  You knew the man was married to her, and
you killed him, so that she would be vulnerable to you."

LaCroix smiled, pleased that Nick had figured it out, "I spotted them a
week ago, and her exceptional beauty caught my eye.  I knew that his
disappearance would allow her promiscuous nature to surface.  Besides, the
blood of mortals is so much sweeter when a gamut of emotions has been run
through it."

"I can no longer stand to be in the same room with you, you disgust me so.
You're nothing but an evil, vile creature, who should be destroyed."

"Tsk, tsk....now, now, Nicholas," LaCroix' grin grew as he continued, "I'm
not entirely without compassion...."

"You wouldn't know how to be kind or compassionate if your very existence
depended upon it.  You only know how to take, not how to give.  In order to
be loved, you have to start by giving love.  I feel sorry for you, LaCroix;
No one will ever love you - you won't allow it."

LaCroix' smug look turned to a frown, as Nick's words hit a little closer
to home than the Ancient would have wanted.  Nick turned and walked out of
the room, leaving LaCroix to ponder the possibility of an eternity of
loneliness, filled with nothing but a cold, untouched heart.

SAN FRANSISCO 1998

He was tossing in a restless sleep.  His forehead was beaded slightly with
sweat.  As he turned yet again, this time away from the sleeping woman next
to him, it woke her.  Samantha came awake fairly quickly, turning to find
him lying on his stomach, his right arm hanging off the bed.  He moaned
slightly in his sleep; whatever he was dreaming about, she could tell it
wasn't very pleasant.

She rubbed her hand along his back, soothingly.  After a few moments, he
seemed to calm down, settling back into sleep.  Samantha snuggled up
against him, noticing once again how cold he was.  She pulled the blanket
up around them both, tucking him into the warmth.  He turned his head
toward her, and opened his eyes.

His voice was a whisper, "I woke you, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."  She began massaging his back, squeezing the muscles
vigorously, "Bad dreams?"

"More like irritating memories."  He moaned in pleasure as she continued to
apply pressure to the muscles in his back. "That feels good," his throaty
voice alerted her to the fact that he was relaxing.

"Try and go back to sleep," Samantha said, softly placing a kiss on the end
of his nose.

"Mmmm...."

LaCroix allowed himself to bathe in her touch.  He could feel himself
beginning to drift, and then he fell into a peaceful sleep.

By the time he finally emerged from slumber, it was dark outside.  He
looked at the empty space on the bed next to him, and noticed the note on
the pillow.  He read it, and a smile came to his face.  He looked at the
clock by the bed; half past seven, he didn't have much time.

After a fast shower, he went into the living room of the suite, and
realized how much he needed to feed.  By the time he heard the knock on his
door, he had polished off two bottles of blood.  He opened the door and
couldn't keep the smile from coming to his lips.  She looked beautiful, and
he knew it was for him.  He didn't want to think about where this would all
end, the vampire knew it was only a matter of time before he had another
face to remember; just this once, he was going to allow himself to enjoy
the ride along the way.

He kissed her cheek, "You look quite beautiful."

She smiled devilishly, "Come on, I don't want to be late."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there."

Once outside the hotel, they grabbed a cab, and he smiled as she asked the
driver to head over the Golden Gate Bridge, and into Sausalito.  The cab
drove through town, and into the out lying area of hills in Marin County.
Samantha took his hand in hers and squeezed it.  Once again, she felt
concern over the coolness of his body temperature, and she wrapped his hand
in both of hers, rubbing it.

"Are you warm enough?"

"Samantha......"

"Yes, yes, I know, you're fine."

He smiled and leaned over to kiss her lightly on the lips, as the cab
pulled over in a fairly desolate area.  He paid the cab fare, and Samantha
led him by the hand to a door which was nestled in mountainous rock.  There
was something oddly familiar about it to him, but for some reason, he
couldn't quite place it.  LaCroix didn't say a word, he merely lifted an
eyebrow at her.

She smiled at him, "Oh ye of little faith...."

He smiled back, as he held the door open for her.  Once inside the door,
they went down a spiral staircase, and LaCroix couldn't help but be
impressed with her choice of interesting sites.  They descended two flights
and found themselves standing in a restaurant which had been carved out in
the stone of the mountain.  It was very cavernous, and lent itself to an
amazing natural ambience.

A hostess greeted them, "May I help you?"

Samantha spoke up, "Yes, please.  I have a reservation for two under the
name of Edwards."

The hostess checked her list and smiled, "Yes.  Right this way please."

LaCroix caught her attention with a question, "This is a very fascinating
place.  Do you know the history of it?"

"Not really, no.  There have been a few rumours though, that this was
orginally some kind of old abandoned mine shaft, left over from the gold
rush during the mid 19th century.....  Please follow me."

LaCroix frowned; the feeling of familiarity was back.  It would nag him
until he could place it.  Samantha nudged him, and they followed the
hostess through the unique establishment, until she led them to a small
alcove in the back.  The candlelight flickering throughout the restaurant
lent a slightly eerie quality to its already powerful character.

Samantha began the usual argument when LaCroix ordered no food, but once
again he managed to assuage her.  He knew well that he would not be able to
talk his way out of it much longer though.  Soon, he would have to take
her, or....  No, he would not consider any other option.  He would let the
vampire have its way.  He looked into her smiling eyes, and felt a slight
pang a regret.  A worthless emotion for an act he had not yet committed.

She touched his hand from across the table, "What's the matter?  You seem
so far away."

"I'm sorry.  I was just thinking about something."

"About us?"

He looked at her sharply, "Yes," he answered honestly.  "About our time
together."

His candor caused her to hesitate momentarily, releasing his hand.  Then
she recovered.

"You are sometimes quite candid and straight to the point."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "Would you have it any other way?"

"No, I would not."  She paused and then added, "I guess I didn't know what
I was talking about when I said I didn't expect you to stay in contact with
me after we both left San Fransisco.  You're already planting the seeds of
dismissal."

LaCroix placed his icy blue eyes on her, "Samantha, it is not that I am not
attracted to you--"

"--Tell me something I don't know."

He looked away.  Then he turned the icy orbs of blue back to her, and he
gently took her hand in his own.

"I don't know quite how to tell you this--"

"--You're married...."

"No, I am not married."

"So what's the problem?  I know you're not gay."

LaCroix tried to suppress the grin that played upon his lips.  Samantha had
no concept of a vampire's lack of labeling in that area.

"Samantha, perhaps we should not concern ourselves with the future, and
simply concentrate on the present."

He punctuated his thoughts by lightly brushing the top of her hand with his
lips.  She couldn't help but smile at him.  Their conversation moved from
Art to Ancient History, and LaCroix found himself once more, impressed by
her knowledge on such a wide variety of subjects.  Most mortals had neither
the time nor the inclination to be so Renaissance in their approach to
life.

Once again, he reached for her hand across the table, his voice growing as
soft as velvet, "Samantha, have you studied much mythology?"

"A little from the Greeks and the Romans, yes."

"And folklore?"

She studied him for a moment, trying to ascertain where he was going, but
it was unclear.

"Not much folklore, no.  Which of the traditions interests you?"

He smiled, "Mythological creatures."

She smiled, assuming he was joking, "Demons of air and darkness, Lucien?"

"Darkness, mainly," his voice sounded as smooth as silk.

Before Samantha had a chance to comment, a shockwave of tremendous power
hit the rock in which the restaurant was built.  It hit suddenly, and with
such force, it knocked several paintings from the walls.  The earth shook
with a violence that could frighten even the most stoic.  The lights went
out almost immediately, and the effect of the tectonic plates scraping
together, was that of the earth screaming its complaint.  It was almost
deafening.

Samantha could hear the noise of debris and glass falling to the floor, but
it all sounded muffled and far away, so loud was the boom of the earth
itself.  People in the restaurant began to scream, and some tried to run
toward an exit, even in the dark, as sections of the ceiling, which was
mountainous rock, began to cave inward upon them.

For a fraction of a second, LaCroix was frozen, his mind tumbling backward
to another moment in his long life when the ground shook, and buildings
crumbled.  For that brief moment, he felt an emotion he had not felt in
1919 years; fear.  The vampire in him, demanded to survive, and he started
with vampiric speed toward the quickly decaying exit.  He was the only one
in the room who had the ability to see in the blackness of the cave.  As
people, debris and stone crumbled, falling to the floor, he heard her call
for him.

Something inside of him made him turn back, just in time to see a huge
chunk of stone from the ceiling above her, begin to shake loose.  This
time, he did not have moments to make a decision for life or death, he had
less than a second.  Her eyes, unseeing in the darkness, locked onto his
unknowingly; outside of a battlefield, he had never seen such unabashed
fear.  In that second, he knew he could not abandon her.  In a whoosh of
air, LaCroix dove toward Samantha, knocking her clear, just as the huge
chunk of rock from the ceiling tumbled toward him.


end part 06
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Almost as suddenly as it had begun, the violent shuddering of the earth
subsided.  Instead of the savage up and down shaking, the ground began
rolling in smaller and smaller waves.  When it stopped completely,
everything stopped.  There was not a sound.  And in the blackness, there
was nothing to see.  It was like being inside of a vacuum, with your own
breathing the only assurance that life still existed.

Samantha, still dazed from being shoved by an amazingly strong force,
slowly shook her head, and tried, in vain, to see in the dark.  She could
hear the sounds of people, slowly coming to their senses.  Then someone lit
a match.

An unidentified voice yelled from somewhere in the dark, "Put that match
out!  If there's a gas leak, you'll blow us all to Kingdom come!"

The match quickly was extinguished.  Samantha could hear moaning from
people in the room, who had been hurt by falling debris.  She felt along
the floor around her, and found nothing but broken glass, pieces of stone,
and what she assumed was some broken wood furniture.

"Lucien?"

No one answered her.

Another voice from the dark spoke, "Everyone remain calm.  We have
flashlights, and as soon as we locate them, we will be able to inspect the
area for gas leaks.  Everyone sit tight."

An agitated man's voice answered, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the Executive Chef, just sit tight."

The agitated man muttered, "Great, we're stuck in the Titanic, and some
short order cook's gonna get us out?"

"I beg your pardon sir, but I am Executive Chef.  I am most certainly not a
'short order cook'."

A sharp woman's voice came through the darkness, presumably speaking to the
agitated man, "Shut up, Ralph."

Samantha could hear rustling around, and she presumed that it was the Exec.
and some of his kitchen staff attempting to find the flashlights.  She was
becoming concerned about LaCroix.

"Lucien, can you hear me?"

There was still no answer.  She could see a small beam of light, emanating
from the kitchen, and soon, there were more.  After a moment, the men with
the flashlights from the kitchen, appeared in the main dining room of the
restaurant, carrying candles and matches.

The Executive Chef spoke again, "We have ascertained that there is no gas
leak, so it is safe to use the candles for light."

The kitchen staff moved quickly around the room, lighting as many candles
as they could.  After a few moments, the room was reasonably well lit.
Samantha's eyes adjusted fairly quickly, and she could hardly believe the
sight that greeted her.

The room that was so beautiful and charming, was decimated.  Most of the
tables and chairs were destroyed, and there were chunks of stone lying
around.  Most every light fixture and painting that had been hanging, was
now lying smashed upon the floor.  She estimated quickly that more than
half the people who were in the establishment, were now severely injured,
or possibly dead, having  been crushed or pinned by debris.

She then looked toward the area of the staircase, which had completely
collapsed.  That part of the room had utterly caved in, effectively sealing
off the exit, and any chance they had of leaving via that route.  Samantha
looked around for LaCroix, and became concerned when she did not spot him.

Then she looked behind her, and to her horror, she found him; he was
completely pinned face down, under a large chunk of the ceiling stone.  And
with that sight, came the realization that he had been the amazing force
which had shoved her clear of the falling ceiling.  Quickly Samantha went
to him, putting her fingers to his neck.  There was no pulse.

"Oh God, oh God, please, no......not this man."

Samantha tried desperately to engage the trained part of herself.  The part
of her who had worked in a medical ER; the part of her who could handle the
situation in which she now found herself.  She slammed her eyes shut.  He
was dead.  He was dead because he saved her.  Lovingly, she caressed the
back of his head.

She knew that she needed to help the people who could be saved.  The
chances of another doctor being trapped in the restaurant were slim to
none, and she knew it was up to her.  Slowly she got up and started away,
to begin the triage of the injured.  LaCroix moaned.  Samantha turned
sharply back toward him, and fell to her knees beside him.

"Lucien?  Lucien, can you hear me?"

He moaned again, not quite conscious.  She turned to some of the men who
were uninjured nearby.

"Please, please, help me get this off of him."

The men came over, but they couldn't lift the stone, it was too heavy.  One
of the men recruited some of the kitchen staff to help, and with twelve
men, they finally managed to remove the rock that was pinning LaCroix.  Two
of the men looked physically sick, as they caught sight of the mangled body
beneath the stone.  Samantha assessed the damage.  His back was broken, and
at least one of his legs was completely crushed.  She couldn't tell about
the other, but at the very least, it was broken.  He was lying in a pool of
his own blood.  She knew that he had internal injuries and was most likely
going to bleed out.  His chances of survival were non existent.

LaCroix groaned again, and as he regained consciousness, he screamed in
pain, trying to roll himself over.  She grabbed his head, and held it in
place.

"Shh....Lucien, easy.  Don't move."

He had never experienced anything like it.  His body felt as though every
inch of it had been stuck with wooden stakes.  He tried not to scream, but
he couldn't control it.  He couldn't control the pain.  He tried to grit
his teeth, and to breathe, but it was a never ending stream of tortured
nerve endings.  He had to feed.  The vampire cried out for blood.  It was
the only way he could save himself.  It was the only way to stop the pain.

LaCroix tried again to move, but Samantha held him fast.

"Lucien, don't.  You mustn't try to move."

He could barely speak through the agony, but he managed one word, "Please...."

Against her better judgment, Samantha rolled him onto his back.  She
supposed in the long run, it wasn't really going to matter.  If it would
somehow make him more comfortable, then so be it.  LaCroix fought the
vampire for control, and somehow managed to win out; when he opened his
eyes to look at her, they were blue.  His voice was barely a whisper, and
Samantha had to lean down to hear him.

"You okay?"

She looked at him, amazed, "Am I okay?"  He nodded slightly, "I'm fine...."

"And...I am not."

She couldn't say it, she just nodded at him.  She grabbed a nearby seat
cushion, and gently placed it under his head.  He shivered uncontrollably.


"I'll see if I can find you a blanket or something."

Samantha started to get up, but his pleading voice stopped her.

"Please....stay."

She took a hold of his hand, "Don't worry, I'm not going far.  Just let me
get a few things to make you a little more comfortable."

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand, and she disappeared out of his sight
line.  LaCroix could smell blood.  A lot of human blood all around him.  He
tried to move his head, to look around, but it was too much of a chore.
The vampire chastised him for his actions.  He would have been out, he
would have been safe, if he had not gone back to save the damned mortal.
He closed his eyes.  He momentarily wondered if Nicholas would finally be
proud enough to call him father.  He quickly shoved that thought aside.

The pool of blood surrounding LaCroix was diminishing, as his body began to
reabsorb it.  The Ancient could sense that he was going to heal, but at a
very slow pace.  He needed blood, badly.  He reached out with his senses,
and knew that there were several humans lying around him, who were not
going to survive, but could still be useful to him in his own recovery, if
he could get to them soon.  He tried to move his legs, but he could not.

The pain was not as bad as he first remembered it to be, so he knew that
there was some progress.  He tried to look for Samantha, it seemed to him
that she had been gone for an eternity.  That thought almost made him
laugh; an eternity.  Odd how one's sensibilities could suddenly alter in
such a situation.  Then Samantha bent over him, and began to cover him with
several tablecloths.

"They're not blankets, but they'll help warm you up a little."

She had also found a first aid kit, and was armed with water and napkins.
She began to clean up the contusions on his face.  His eyes never left
hers, while she tended to him.  When she had finished, she looked down at
him, and let out a long sigh.  He looked like death warmed over; his colour
was even worse than it normally was, and she could barely see him
breathing.

He saw the worry in her eyes, "Do not concern yourself, I'll be all right."

"Can I get that in writing?"

She reached down with her fingers, to check his pulse, and was surprised
when he was able to slightly pull away.

"Lucien...I'm just going to check your pulse."

"There's no need.  Obviously, I'm still alive."

She was going to chastise him, but he smiled at her, and she could do
nothing but smile back.  She carefully lifted his head into her lap, and
stroked his forehead, until his eyelids closed, and she knew he was asleep.
Gently, she put his head back onto the cushion, and began moving about the
room, tending to everyone else who needed attention.

end part 07
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It had been several hours since he had fallen asleep, when Samantha finally
had a free moment to check on him.  She quietly approached LaCroix, and
knelt next to him.  She felt for his pulse, and went into a state of panic,
when she couldn't find it.  His eyes snapped open, and stared into hers.
Seeing the panic in them, he quickly surmised what she had done.

"Samantha, I'm still here."

She frowned, and reached for his neck.  Feeling slightly stronger, he
grabbed for her wrist, and caught it before she could place her fingers on
his neck again.  She stared, uncomprehendingly into his eyes.

"Lucien....you don't have a pulse."  She touched his face, "And your skin
feels like ice.  Even colder than it does normally.  I don't understand
this..."

He took her hand in his, and concentrated on her heartbeat, "Samantha, I am
going to be fine.  My injuries are not as bad as you first thought them to
be."

Samantha blinked her eyes at him.  She was fighting him.

"Samantha, listen to me.  My injuries are not life threatening.  I will be
all right."

She shook her head.  A resistor.  LaCroix sighed, he didn't have the
strength to overpower her will; at least not in his currently weakened
state.

She glared at him, "Don't try and convince me, Lucien.  I'm the doctor, you
are the patient."

He realized he would have to execute plan B:  He would have to distract
her.  He purposefully allowed himself to shiver, and then looked up at her
with as pitiful a look as he could muster, which given the circumstances,
wasn't all that difficult.

"I'm so cold...."

"Here," Samantha said as she very gently lifted his torso up, cuddling him
in her lap,  "let me try and warm you up."

She rubbed her hands up and down his arms and chest, trying to warm skin
that couldn't be warmed.  He allowed himself to snuggle into her affection.
He was exhausted, and her hands felt good.  Before he knew it, he was once
again, fast asleep.

He awoke to the smell of raspberry and chocolate teasing his palate.  The
vampire was growing more and more impatient.  LaCroix knew that soon, he
would lose his control.  He opened his eyes, and confirmed what he already
knew; Samantha was kneeling next to him.

"How do you feel?"

"A little worse for the wear."

She smiled a sad smile at him.  Secretly, she was amazed that he was still
alive.  He could hear a noise nearby; he frowned and tried to lift his
head, but he was still too weak.

"It will be better if you don't try to move."

"What is that noise?"

"Noise?  Oh, some of the kitchen crew has started to dig a way out of here
through the rubble."

He made an attempt at humour, "Has anyone thought of phoning for the local
bulldozer?"

It was lost on her, "Lucien, that earthquake was pretty damn big.  The
phone lines are out.  We're not sure what the situation outside even is; we
can't wait for a crew to find us, much less dig us out."  He looked at her,
uncomprehendingly, so she continued, "We'll run out of oxygen if we wait."

He hadn't thought of that, but all he said was, "Oh."

As several men from the kitchen crew pulled upon a rather large rock, the
earth began to shake again.

"Aftershock!"

People dove for the nearest makeshift cover.  Samantha covered LaCroix'
head with her body, and her own head with her arms and hands.  It didn't
last long, and it was more of a swaying motion, as opposed to a shaking
motion; however, the aftershock served to further weaken the cave they were
all buried in.

LaCroix was the first to sense it, because his hearing could detect the
sounds of rock beginning to split.  Just as parts of the ceiling began to
cave in, he rolled on top of Samantha.  She was too surprised that he could
move at all, to object.  Several screams were heard as people were hit by
falling debris.  When it stopped, LaCroix slowly moved off of Samantha.
The movement, having worn him out completely, left him prone on the floor,
exhausted.

Samantha stared at him, "How did you do that?  Your back is broken, you
shouldn't have been able to move at all, much less roll on top of me...."

LaCroix was far too tired to go through an explanation with her now.
Besides, what could he tell her?  Certainly not the truth.

A man called to Samantha from the other side of the room, "Doctor Edwards?
We need your help over here."

"I'll be right there...."

She looked back at LaCroix, whose eyes were drooping.  She kissed him
lightly on the forehead, "Get some more rest, we'll talk about it later."

He closed his eyes and once again, fell asleep.  A few hours later, he woke
up and could feel a lot of movement within the room.  He glanced over
toward the energy, and saw everyone who was not injured, working in
assembly line style, trying to clear the rubble at the exit.  How they were
all planning to get up two flights without a staircase, LaCroix could not
guess.

As he became more awake, he felt the vampire within him slam into control.
It would no longer be denied.  His fangs descended, and he knew that his
eyes had changed to a deep golden colour.  His injuries would heal no
further without help, and he needed blood.  He could sense several
heartbeats near him; some belonged to humans whom he knew were not going to
survive much longer.  He glanced in the direction of the working mortals;
they were quite busy, and not likely to notice him.

Quietly, LaCroix crawled a few feet to his left, where a small woman was
still partially buried under some rubble.  He sank his fangs into her neck,
and greedily drained her within seconds.  Instead of making him feel
better, the blood fueled his need even more.  Within a span of five
minutes, LaCroix had drained seven mortals who were on the brink.

Taking any more would be dangerous.  He felt slightly better, and at the
very least, the vampire was controllable once again.  He moved into a
sitting position, leaning himself up against the wall.  His one leg was
still in bad shape; it would take a few days for it to heal, if he did not
have access to more blood.  Suddenly he realized that the pounding he had
been slightly aware of, was emanating from his head.  He allowed his head
to fall back against the wall.

Samantha looked over in his direction, and couldn't believe her eyes; he
was sitting up.  She quickly made her way over to him.  He saw the look on
her face; there would be no putting her off this time.  He sighed.

"All right.....what is going on?  And don't tell me that I underestimated
your injuries.  I'm a doctor, I know what I know."

"Indeed."

He momentarily closed his eyes; this was going to take all his
concentration.  When he looked at her, he focused in on her heartbeat.  His
eyes grew in intensity, and Samantha found herself locked into them.

"I have made the improvement that you expected.  My injuries were never
life threatening."

"Not life threatening...."

"You came over here to inquire about my headache."

She blinked at him, and then he broke the link.  She stared into his eyes,
and then tenderly touched the side of his face.

"How's the headache?"

He smiled at her, "Hurts...."

"Hang in there."

He nodded, and she moved back toward the rubble party.  His head really did
hurt, and having to expend the energy in hypnotism was not what he had
wanted to do, but there had been little choice.  He looked toward the roof
again.  He could see that it was not going to hold.  He looked toward the
mortals, who were painstakingly slow at clearing a path to freedom.  If
they didn't get out soon, they wouldn't be getting out at all.


end part 08
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Samantha leaned up against the wall, exhausted.  She turned to look at
LaCroix, who was out like a light, right next to her.  She gently pushed
his head onto her shoulder.  He shuffled slightly in his sleep.

OUTSIDE SAN FRANSISCO (MARIN COUNTY) 1916

Nicholas landed right next to LaCroix in the open field, snuggled between
two very large rocky hills.  The former stared at the latter expectantly.
LaCroix simply smiled.

"Well?"

LaCroix didn't say a word.  He merely walked over toward one of the large
hills.  Nick followed.  LaCroix stopped in front of a broken down wooden
entrance to an old mine shaft.  Nick was running out of patience.

"LaCroix, I asked you what you did with Harry Stanton's body."

"And I am showing you."

LaCroix walked through the entrance to the mine shaft, and led Nicholas
down into the bowels of the mine.  There, sitting in an old mine car, was
the body of Harry Stanton.

LaCroix smiled, "There.  Nicholas, meet what is left of Mr. Harry Stanton,
though I have no idea why you wished to meet him now."

"Mr. Stanton's last will and testament, LaCroix."

"What?"

"He and Mrs. Stanton wanted to be buried together."

"So?  Are you actually standing there telling me you think they care now?"

Nick glared at LaCroix, "Can you not have any respect for their wishes?"

LaCroix snorted, "I have no respect for live mortals, Nicholas, what in the
name of Nero makes you think I would respect them more when they are dead?"

"Never mind.  This was all I needed from you."

Nick picked up Stanton's body, and began walking out through the mine,
LaCroix followed him, dogging him all the way.

"Oh please, don't tell me, let me guess.  You're going to dump his body in
the Bay, so that they can have a watery grave together?"

Nick didn't say a word, but his look confirmed it.  LaCroix practically
doubled over, laughing.

"As if they'll know, Nicholas."

"They might not, but I will."

MARIN COUNTY 1998

LaCroix recognized it now.  The cavern was part of the old mine shaft that
he had hidden Harry Stanton's body in, 82 years before.  Another aftershock
bolted through the cavern, and Samantha ran for LaCroix, endeavoring to
protect him.  She held him until it passed.  He looked around him; the
Ancient could easily read the fear in the room, not to mention the
degradation of the structure.  It wouldn't be long until the roof collapsed
completely.  He had to make a move.

"Samantha.....I need your help."

Misunderstanding him she asked, "Where does it hurt?"

"No, no.  I need you to help me into the kitchen."

"Now you want to eat?"

"No.  I want to get us out of here before we're up to our necks in stone."

"Lucien, the way out is what we've been working on, and it's over there....."

"Samantha, I don't have time to explain, you'll have to trust me."

She looked into his eyes, "Uh-huh...."

Against her better judgement, she helped him to his feet, and as he tried
to put weight on his left leg, he nearly cried out in pain.

He reached for her shoulder, "I"m sorry, but I'm going to have to lean on you."

Samantha helped him into the kitchen, and watched him as he rapped on the
walls.  She shook her head at him, as each of the places he tapped sounded
like solid stone.  He lightly tapped on the wall by the stove, and it made
a very hollow sound.  He smiled.

"Samantha, could you hand me one of those meat mallets?"

She looked down at the prep station in front of her and saw the metal
mallet, with the jagged teeth.  She handed it to him, slight surprise on
her face.  The guy never eats, how could he know what a meat mallet even
looks like?

Using Samantha as leverage, LaCroix hit the wall with the mallet, pummeling
as much force as he could muster.  He made a hole in the plaster.

The Executive Chef stuck his head in the kitchen door, "Hey...what the hell
are you two doing?"

Samantha turned back to him, "Digging for gold...."

"Hey...you're making a hole in the wall."

LaCroix turned back to him, "Yes, and if I'm right, it will be our way out.

Shortly, there were several people watching.  LaCroix kept at it, until a
large enough hole was there, so that he could get a good look through it.
He stuck his head in, and sure enough, it was the mine shaft that he had
been in 82 years before.  He smiled, triumphantly.

He looked at Samantha, "I believe we have struck gold."

She smiled at him.  He quickly pounded a larger hole in the wall.

He turned to the Executive Chef, "If you would be so kind as to collect
everyone in here, I believe we may have a way out."

He turned back toward Samantha, who was staring at him.

"What?"

"You're just constantly full of surprises."

"Yes, and that's exactly what attracts you to me."

She rolled her eyes at him, "Well, it certainly ain't your humility, Bub...."

"Bub?"

"Come on...."

Samantha helped him through the hole in the wall, and they were followed by
the rest of the living.  As they worked their way through the many tunnels,
LaCroix was becoming increasingly tired.  He wasn't up to the challenge,
and he knew it.  Samantha could feel him leaning more and more on her.  She
stopped for a moment, and turned to the Exec, who was right behind them.

"He's got to rest for a minute."

LaCroix objected, "No, I'm fine...."

"You're not fine, you're about to collapse."

She leaned him up against the wall.

"LaCroix," the Exec. asked, "are you sure you know where you're going?"

"Yes, reasonably."

"Dare I ask what reasonably means?"

LaCroix glared at Samantha, "Who's side are you on?"

"The side that gets us out of here before this joint collapses."

There was another shudder of the earth, and LaCroix could hear the
straining of the wood and rock surrounding them.

"We'd better hurry."

Samantha got her arm around him again, and they began their move upward
once again.  After several turns through the tunnels, they could see light
emanating from above them.  A big shudder shook the earth.  This was it.
LaCroix could feel it.

"Move!  This structure is collapsing!"

The people began running toward the light.  Samantha, burdened with LaCroix
was stumbling.  They fell to the ground.  Wooden beams from the old shaft
were shaking loose.  LaCroix knew there was no time to spare.

"Samantha, go!  Save yourself."

"No!"

"Go!  I can't run on this leg.  Go, now!"

The structure was beginning to fall, just as the Executive Chef came back
for them.  LaCroix thrust Samantha at the man.

"Get her out of here," LaCroix had to yell over the din of the imminent
collapse.

The Chef had to yell back, "What about you?"

"I'll be right behind you," LaCroix lied.

Samantha looked him in the eyes, and knew he was lying, she screamed as the
Chef dragged her out.

"No!  Lucien!"

The Chef dragged Samantha clear at the last moment.  The structure
collapsed, obliterating the only way out.  Samantha crumpled in the Chef's
arms.  He was gone.  The unique man who fascinated her so, was gone in an
instant.  She wondered if he had known that he would sacrifice himself for
another.  She hoped that he did.  She wondered if he knew that she felt
something special in her heart for him.  She hoped the hell that he did.

end part 09
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Samantha Edwards was lying in her bed at The Drake.  While the quake did
significant damage, the city was still functioning.  It was still there,
and thankfully, there had been very few fatalities.  Her eyes filled with
tears.  A face appeared in her mind.  It would be a face that she would
remember for the rest of her life.  She hugged her pillow to herself.  She
missed him.  As she cried herself to sleep, she did not notice the
displaced whoosh, entering from her window.

Samantha stuffed the last of her belongings into her suitcase.  It had been
an odd time in San Fransisco, with the earthquake causing far more
excitement than a cardiac surgeon needed in her life, but on some level,
Samantha just knew; no, she felt, that the time had been wonderful.

She closed the door to her hotel suite, and walked toward the elevator.  As
the doors opened, she stepped on, and a voice called from the hallway.

"Would you be kind enough to hold the doors please?"

She did.  A tall man stepped on to the elevator with her.  He smiled at her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He flashed another smile at her.  She smiled back.  There was something
about him.  Something special, she could feel it.  Too bad she was leaving
already, and he had apparently just arrived.  The elevator doors opened and
they both stepped out into the lobby.  He called to her as she was
preparing to head for the main doors.

"Oh, Miss......I found this in the hallway this morning, and was bringing
it down to lost and found, but perhaps it's yours."

He held out a diamond earring towards her.

She smiled at him, "Oh yes.....thank you so much.  It's been missing for days."

"Really....."

She looked at him, "How did you ever know it was mine?"

His icy blue eyes danced as he spoke, "A lucky guess."

She held out her hand, and he placed it in her outstretched palm, but he
didn't let go right away.  Their eyes locked, and Samantha felt an odd
sensation of recognition.  He turned her palm down, and lightly brushed the
back of her hand with his soft lips.

"A bientot, ma cherie....."

She smiled at him as he turned and walked back toward the elevator.
LaCroix smiled smugly to himself as he stepped onto the car.  He always
found hypnosis of this type easier when the subject was barely awake.  It
had been the best solution all around.  He wouldn't have to explain any of
the oddities surrounding him, and she wouldn't have to go through the pain
of mourning someone who was immortal.

As the elevator doors closed, Samantha smiled in his direction and
muttered, "Good bye.......Lucien."

>From inside the elevator car, LaCroix moaned.  Resistors could be so
annoying.  Of course, on the other hand, maybe a trip to New York wouldn't
be so bad after all.

end part 10
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