Date: Sun, 21 Feb 1999 17:41:04 -0500 From: Susan Bennett Subject: Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (1/9) archiver To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU This is a bit late, Nick&Nat Valentine's Day story, which just about everybody else barged in on. There are references to Bad Blood, BMV, Black Buddah, Fever, and probably some other eps along the way. ----------------------------------------- Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (1/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- After heading north for over an hour, Mark finally steered the black rental sedan off the secondary highway. He followed a rutted gravel road west for two miles. When he reached a slightly battered red mailbox, he turned left into a narrow, snow dusted driveway lined with tall pines. He turned a bend and spotted a single building in the distance. It matched the description he had been given -- one story, grey fieldstone, one window in front, dark wooden door. "There's always a dark wooden door," Mark muttered as he continued slowly up the driveway. He pulled in behind a dark blue jeep parked near the building, then deftly heaved his six foot frame out of the car. He stood for a moment to breathe in the cold air, laden with the scent of pine. It was so still and silent here. The only visible sign of life was the grey smoke billowing out from a stone chimney on the roof. Pulling his thick suede jacket more snugly around him, Mark ambled through the shallow snow and up the steps. He stood at the front door and knocked hard twice. After waiting impatiently for several minutes, the door finally creaked open. A handsome dark haired man with soft hazel eyes met him. "You're early," Steven mumbled as he pushed the door wide open. "Not as early as all that," Mark huffed, scrutinizing the green terry bathrobe Steven wore. "It's almost ten. You were to expect me at 10:15." Mark entered and surveyed the dim interior. It was fittingly plain with its wooden plank floors, beamed ceilings, and dull beige walls. To the right was a small open kitchen with the typical appliances, a large plank table and four simple chairs. Beyond the kitchen, a short hallway led to the back rooms. The large main living area sported an overstuffed rose coloured sofa and armchair, laid out invitingly in front of the floor to ceiling stone fireplace. "I was just about to ask you where she was," Mark quipped as a door in the hallway opened and a tall redhead emerged. Noting her dishevelled clothing, Mark glared at Steven. "You know the rules," he whispered hotly, "especially with an apprentice." While he could never condone his protege's indiscretion, he could certainly understand it. Michelle was indeed a temptress... high cheekbones, full lips, large green eyes. The current tousled look of her long auburn hair only accentuated her natural sensuality. It wasn't often that vampire hunters were graced with such seductive bait in their midst. Mark hadn't met Michelle before, but did learn from her file that she was third generation. Her grandfather had been bitten and cleansed with the holy water, and was an extraordinarily proficient hunter in his time. While neither of her own parents had shown any talent whatsoever, she was born with the inner sense. Mark knew all about that rush, the one that tingled through one's veins whenever a vampire was near. The downside was if you were close enough to the vampire to experience it and you weren't in a very public place, you were dead. Steven was a hunter by direct blood rather than parentage, yet he lacked any inner sense. He had been bitten only six years ago by a female that Mark had been tracking. She had barely sunk her fangs into Steven's unenlightened neck when Mark's stake made direct contact with her undead heart. For all of their heightened senses, Mark mused, their one track minds allowed for extreme vulnerability at dinner time. "Have you felt any sign of them in Toronto?" Mark asked when Michelle arrived at Steven's side. "We have a couple of the more exclusive clubs left to check out," Steven explained. "There's one in particular I want you to visit," Mark announced. "The Raven." Michelle and Steven eyed each other. "That's on our list for tonight," Michelle offered. "Mere coincidence?" "I found the name in Liam's dossier," Mark replied. "He was in Toronto on a case just over a year ago." "O'Neil, out of Ireland?" Steven asked. "That's him," Mark confirmed. "He was killed last week in a skirmish and I only retrieved his dossier a couple of days ago. His final message concerning the Toronto case was, 'Original target dispatched. Lost apprentice. Inconclusive whether further problem exists'." Mark looked straight at Michelle. "His apprentice's name was 'Bridget'. Very eager, barely trained. She was only supposed to report on his progress and assist behind the scenes, but took it on herself to plunge into the deep end. Very adept in creating identities, falsifying records, that sort of thing." Mark intensified his stare at Michelle. "She could have proven extraordinarily useful," he said, "but she didn't do as she was told and she died." Steven was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to heed Mark's warning. "Inconclusive?" he muttered. "That's not like the Liam I knew." "No, you're right, it's not," Mark commented sombrely. "But we haven't had any cause to come back here until now." "So, now that all three of us have gathered together on foreign soil, are you going to tell us what you're really looking for?" Steven asked. Mark smiled for the first time since he arrived. "I'm rather sceptical myself," he said, "but it has to be investigated. We've heard rumours that someone in Toronto has created some kind of a germ that kills vampires." Mark stole a glance at his watch and immediately headed for the door. "I have to get back to Toronto and catch a flight to Chicago," he explained. "Beth's all alone there." * * * * * A thundering noise roused Natalie from her sleep late that afternoon. She tossed out her right arm and smacked the snooze button on her alarm clock three times before she realized it was the telephone that was making all the racket. "Damn," Nat mumbled. She stretched her arm out to the phone and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" "Did I wake you?" Nick teased, already knowing he had from the grogginess in her voice. Natalie pried open her reluctant eyes. She smoothed back the hair from her face before glancing at the digital clock. "Uh, yeah, as a matter of fact. I wasn't going to get up for another hour. You're up kind of early aren't you?" "Couldn't sleep," Nick told her. It was the truth, he hadn't had a decent day's sleep for almost a week. "Ahh," Nat sighed, "and if you don't sleep... I don't sleep?" "That's not it at all," Nick proclaimed. "I just know you're back on nights starting tonight and wondered if you wanted to ride in with me." "Oh is that all," Nat said, mocking disappointment. "Here I thought you might want to know what I'm wearing or something." She involuntarily gazed down at her two piece plaid flannel pyjamas and idly wondered what his reaction would be. "Pardon?" Nat rolled her eyes as her mind created a mental image of the blank expression gracing Nick's face at that moment. "Pick me up at six-thirty?" "See you then." Nick hung up the phone, relieved that she accepted his offer. Ever since *that* Valentine's Day, he liked to keep her close during this threatening time of February. Part of his motivation was out of fear of what LaCroix might do. The rest was simple guilt over never revealing to her how very close she had come to death that night. But what other choice did he have? Condemn her to the living hell that he endured, or relinquish her to the whims of an exceedingly unstable vampire -- one who could, and often did, recast himself from lucid to lunatic in the blink of an eye. Two and a half hours later, Nick was knocking at Nat's apartment door. He surprised her with a small bouquet of red roses when she invited him in. Natalie beamed. "What are these for?" Nick leaned over and kissed her cheek. "An apology... for waking you up." Natalie breathed in the fragrant perfume of the roses. "You really should wake me up more often," she suggested. "I haven't even seen a rose since last summer, let alone inhaled their scent." "Are you about ready to go?" Nick asked. "Just let me get these in some water." Nat carefully retrieved the crystal vase Nick had given her for Christmas from the bookshelf. She carried it into the kitchen and filled it with cold water. After arranging the roses, she placed the vase on the counter that separated the dining area from the living room. She eyed them appreciatively for a moment before returning to Nick. "Thank you," she said, "they really brighten the place up." "No. You really brighten the place up," Nick said. 'You really brighten my life up,' he added to himself, captivated by her blush. Natalie chuckled. "Thank you for that too," she said gaily. She pushed her hand playfully into his chest. "Now let's be off before that charm of yours turns me into an unredeemable piece of putty." "That is an enticing picture," Nick teased, as he helped her into her coat. They remained in jovial spirits all the way to the morgue. It pained Nick to part with her there, knowing the rest of his night would be spent delving into a much more gruesome side of humanity. He pulled the caddy over to the curb, got out and walked around to the passenger side. "I'll stop by during my break," he told her as he opened the door. "I'll see you then," Nat said. She walked up the steps and turned around to wave goodbye. Nick called up to her as he opened his door. "Hey, Nat?" "Yeah?" "What were you wearing when I called?" he teased. Natalie laughed, remembering those plaid pyjamas. "Trust me, Nick," she shouted down to him, "you really don't want to know." ...Cont'd. in (2/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (2/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- LaCroix had been sitting idly at a corner table in the club all evening. It was almost midnight when his attention was suddenly drawn to a commotion. Alma tore through the front door and was scrambling towards the bar. She almost slid to a stop in front of Janette, and the two women exchanged brisk words. LaCroix focused his senses on the couple and caught their conversation in mid- sentence. "...I didn't recognize the woman, but the man's a hunter," Alma said. "I saw him in Paris four years ago. He was with two others. The three of them got six of us over a period of two weeks before they were finally satisfied and left." Janette eyed her friend inquisitively. "I see. And you alone escaped to tell the tale?" "No, it wasn't like that at all," Alma conceded. "I didn't learn that he was one of the hunters until the entire community met to discuss dispersement." Still sitting in his corner, LaCroix inwardly cringed at the thought of hunters in the city. He had already received two warnings from the enforcers since his arrival in Toronto. The first concerned the museum guard he had killed and left out for discovery. The second was a extremely severe chastisement over the barber, whose indiscretions were directly responsible for the arrival of a very talented hunter. Unfortunately, the enforcers were not as naive as Nicholas when it came to shifting blame, LaCroix mused. At any rate something would have to be done. He was certain he wasn't ready to leave Toronto just yet; but was uncertain whether that fact was due to his inability to relinquish Nicholas, or to relinquish an audience who freely gave him what Nicholas never would -- reverence. While he was lost in thought, Janette walked over to him. "You heard about our company?" she asked. "Yes," LaCroix answered. "I suppose we will have to find out why they're here. Call your young friend, Derek." Janette smiled. "It appears that will not be necessary," she remarked as she glanced towards the front door. "He's already here." The short nondescript man scanned the room. When he noticed LaCroix, he immediately walked towards his table. LaCroix involuntarily smirked at the young vampire's penchant for worn denim. He gestured for Janette to leave them alone and she retreated to the bar. Fixing an icy blue stare at Derek, LaCroix started to grill him, "How long have they been here?" "I've been following them for the last three hours," Derek replied. He sat down in a chair across the table from LaCroix. "I was expecting them," he continued, "I just didn't know when." "And the why?" "They heard about the sickness," Derek explained. Derek wasn't surprised at all when his own informant had told him that the news had finally reached the hunters. LaCroix frowned. "How did they come to hear of that?" Derek simply shrugged his shoulders and glanced wistfully at LaCroix's drink. "They have their sources as we do," he suggested. "That's unfortunate," LaCroix muttered. "Discovering a method to slaughter us wholesale would be quite an incentive to them. As long as the rumour exists, they will not relent." "What do you want me to arrange?" Derek asked. LaCroix smiled lightly. "Give them what they want and they'll be on their way," he replied eagerly, a plan already forming in his mind. Derek glanced towards the door. "We don't have much time," he declared. "I'm going to lose their scent if you keep me here much longer." LaCroix leaned in towards Derek. "One name," he whispered. "Make it known that Dr. Natalie Lambert is the one they want." Derek rose to his feet and winked at LaCroix. "I'll be back to collect in an hour." LaCroix leaned back in his chair and watched Derek exit the club. Natalie would be the bone he would toss to the dogs. She was close enough to have reliable information about the case should they actually discover anything, yet determined enough not to surrender anyone in the vampire community. He would rid himself of her, the hunters, and an inevitable resultant visit by the enforcers all in one clean swoop. LaCroix chuckled. * * * * * Derek had been caught out. After doing what he was directed to do by LaCroix, he returned to the Raven and spent the better part of darkness with the old vampire before being unceremoniously booted out. The sun would be rising within minutes and he was miles from home. Remembering that an acquaintance, one Xavier Vachon, lived in an abandoned church nearby, Derek quickly flew towards it. Vachon grudgingly invited him in and the conversation promptly turned to the vampire hunters, and Derek's meeting with an anonymous client. Derek laughed. "You wouldn't believe this coincidence, but he told me to give them the same name I gave you when the sickness came. You know, Knight's friend -- the one I told you was good with the 'dead' and the 'undead'. "Natalie?" Vachon gasped. "But if it wasn't for her, no one would have even made the connection between the retrovirus and the sickness. We would have all died without ever knowing why." "That didn't seem to faze the old bugger who hired me," Derek intoned. "I don't think he's the sentimental type." Vachon suppressed his growing anger. "And you?" "She's nothing to me," Derek replied with a smug grin. "She is something to Knight," Vachon countered, recalling the gratitude he felt at that moment when Nick brought him the serum, the serum that Natalie had provided. "Knight, shmite," Derek spat childishly. "Who the hell cares?" He reached into the depths of his coat pocket and pulled out a fancy glass bottle. "Besides," he said, "I was given a very fine vintage... a human child." "No thank you," Vachon growled with disgust, silently regretting allowing Derek into his home. "Sorry," Derek apologized without sincerity. "I forgot for a moment that you have... scruples." He gestured towards the far side of the room. "If you don't mind..." "Spend the day," Vachon replied curtly, "but be gone at sunset." Before he even finished the sentence, however, Vachon had already decided that Derek would be gone long before sunset. His mind swam with stories of vampire hunters and what they did to mortal sympathizers. If they even suspected Natalie.... No, he wouldn't let that happen to the mortal woman who saved his life, or to the man who loved her. * * * * * Michelle felt relatively safe lying next to Steven, but only now, with their hotel room bathed in the light of the rising sun, did she feel comfortable enough to entertain sleep. She had thought she felt something earlier when they left the Raven, but seeing as how Steven picked that particular moment to whisper in her ear, she couldn't be entirely sure whether her body rush was due to a vampire being nearby, or simply due to his titillation. Her mind had firmly settled on the latter -- at least until they returned to their car and found the hastily penned note tucked under a wiper blade. The message was sloppily written in ink on a torn piece of grey paper. It read, 'Dr. Natalie Lambert, a pathologist, has what you want.' After finding the message, Michelle and Steven had immediately checked into the Radisson Hotel. They spent the next two hours cold calling Toronto hospitals looking for a Dr. Lambert, all to no avail. Steven finally hit paydirt when he called the Coroner's office and accessed their voice mail directory. "Fitting occupation for a sympathizer," he had told Michelle after hanging up the phone. Right before her eyes, his features took on a dangerous intensity that Michelle had never seen before. The soft hazel eyes that had seduced her the very first time they met, grew cold and hard. His beautiful full lips tightened into a dangerous, predatory smile. Somehow, the imminent pursuit of the "sympathizer" had electrified him. Michelle found the change exciting at first; but when it persisted throughout their 'lovemaking', for lack of a better term, she found it frightening. Exhausted both from events and Steven's frenzied and somewhat painful attentions, Michelle finally drifted off to sleep. She woke late in the afternoon to find Steven setting up the lunch he had ordered through room service. "Oh, you're up!" Steven said. "Come and eat and then we'll talk." Michelle dutifully did as he asked, and when they finished eating, he told her of his plans. "I don't know if I can do that, Steven," Michelle admitted. "I'm really not ready for it. This is my first time out." Steven grinned. "You have to start somewhere," he replied. "I only need help with the transport back here." "You can't bring her in here!" Michelle exclaimed. "There are too many eyes and ears in a hotel. Why not the cottage?" "She might not be worth taking to the cottage," Steven declared. "First we find out if she's legitimate goods. I don't want to take her all the way out there if she doesn't know anything. We'll keep her sedated until we're certain she knows something. Then we'll move her out." "When are you taking her?" Steven examined his watch. "It's just past five," he said. "Too late today to do anything. We'll have to do it just before dawn. That's the safest time anyway. We'll have cover of darkness, and any 'friends' she might have will be immobilized for the entire day." Michelle caught a strand of her hair between her thumb and forefinger and started to twirl it. "Where?" "That's the best part," Steven contended. "I called her office and asked for her, only to find out she's working nights this week, seven-thirty until four in the morning. We'll be waiting for her when she gets home." "You know where she lives?" Michelle asked. "Not yet. But I have a telephone book, a work address, and a thick wad of cash if it goes that far. I'll know soon enough." ...Cont'd. in (3/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (3/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- As with the previous night, Nick arrived at Nat's apartment at precisely six-thirty. "What do you think of this one?" she asked when she opened the door to him. Nat was dangling a long red dress down the front of her. Nick grinned. "Very nice," he said, "but do you think we could have the fashion show *inside* the apartment?" Nat backed up far enough for him to enter. "Not a problem," she said. "I have a nice burgundy one as well. I'm sort of torn between them. It is a Valentine's dance, so the red would be more appropriate, but I think the burgundy looks better on me. I have matching shoes for..." "Wait a minute," Nick interjected, shaking his head. "What dance is this? When? Am I supposed to be going?" "I mentioned it a month ago, Nick. You said you would take me." Her heart sank at the look of confusion on his face. "Oh, please don't tell me you were in a daze and can't remember," she begged. Nick shook his head. "Honestly, Nat. I don't remember anything about it." "Is it going to be a problem?" she asked guardedly. "I don't think so," Nick replied. The uncertainty in his voice told Nat that it already was a problem. This running hot and cold on her lately was driving her batty. "Well, you better let me know pretty soon," she told him. "The dance is the night after tomorrow. Valentine's day. You know. Love, romance and all of that." "I know what Valentine's Day is, Nat." His reply was a little too sharp and he smiled in compensation. "I'll let you know after my shift." "Fine," Nat declared. "I'll just put this away and I'll be ready to go." She carried the dress off to her room and returned a minute later. Apart from some sporadic light conversation, they drove to the morgue in relative silence. Nick leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I'll pick you up after work," he said. "I'll probably see you before then unless it's a slow night." The night turned out to be incredibly slow. Nick and Tracy spent the first few hours interviewing possible witnesses for a recent domestic case, and then spent the rest of their shift catching up on paperwork. Nick called Nat twice during the night for information he could have easily found on his computer, but he wanted to hear her voice. She called him once for the very same reason. Lately, he often seemed much more at ease with her on the telephone than in person. Nat was waiting for him when he met her at the morgue an hour before dawn. He helped her into her coat they went out to the car. Their conversation ran smoothly until Nick pulled the caddy over in front of her apartment building. "So," Nat said cautiously. "Are we going or not?" Nick took hold of her hand. "I really don't think it's a good idea, Nat," he said. "Come on, Nick," she protested. It's only a little banquet with dancing. A mortal, mortal thing to do. Food, drink, friends, music, dancing." "I can't make it, Nat, really." Natalie gently pulled her hand away from his. "And you won't tell me why?" she asked. That's what hurt her more than anything, his failure to provide an explanation. And he just wasn't liar enough to invent one. Nick simply gazed out towards the front doors of her building. "Do you want me to walk you up?" he asked. "No," she replied. He knew she was angry. But how could he tell her the truth? That he just didn't trust himself around her anymore. Not under those kind of conditions anyway. A dance. Slow dancing. Their bodies clinging together like that. "Nat, I..." he turned his head to apologize, but she was already out of the car. He slipped the caddy into gear and continued up the street. He knew he should have went after her and told her that he couldn't take her, out of fear that he would 'take her'. Lately it seemed that every ounce of his strength was expended simply trying to keep his vampiric urges at bay, especially when they were close. His battle with the demon had only increased in intensity since LaCroix moved back to Toronto a few short years ago. It was so subtle at first that he didn't even recognize what was happening to him. Nick now wondered if it was just too late. After so many centuries of having his will pummelled and his sense of self diluted, these past couple of years had corroded his resolve to within a hair's breadth of submission. Whether that submission would be to vampirism or death, he wasn't sure. Somewhere along the line they had become one and the same, with the second scenario holding a firm advantage. The honking of a car behind him tore Nick from his thoughts. When he stepped on the gas, he heard something falling in the back seat. "She forgot her bag," he muttered. He pulled over to the curb, studied the eastern sky, and debated with himself whether to go back to Nat's and apologize on the pretence of bringing her the forgotten groceries. If he didn't hurry, he knew he would have to spend the day at her place. Nick muttered to himself as he made a U-turn and headed back to Nat's. The sky had lightened considerably by the time he arrived in front of her building ten minutes later. Nick pulled up behind a dilapidated red cargo van that sped away just as he parked. He hastily emerged from the car and retrieved Nat's bag from the back seat. After using his own set of keys to get through the lobby, he made his way upstairs to her apartment. After knocking on the door for the second time he mumbled, "Where the hell is she?" Sydney was inside, meowing away furiously. Nick finally used his key to get in. He was already dialling the precinct on his cell phone as the scene of a struggle registered in his brain. Her purse was lying on the floor in front of him, an upside down kitchen chair sat in the middle of the living room, and the crystal vase of roses that he had recently given her had toppled from the counter. The roses lay haphazardly in a puddle of water and shattered crystal. "Oh, God!" Nick moaned aloud, chastising himself for not giving more significance to the van that sped away. He stared in disgust at the sun's rays that were already streaming through the edges of the window curtains. His disgust wasn't even aimed at the sun, but at himself, because was a vampire, because he was totally useless in the light of day. Despondent, Nick staggered over to the sofa and fell into it. "Oh, Nat," he whispered woefully, "I am so sorry." Devastated by his predicament, it took a minute for Nick to realize he could recall at least some of the van's licence plate number. He sprang up from the couch and ran over to the kitchen table where Natalie's computer was. * * * * * Captain Reese and a forensic team arrived at the apartment fifteen minutes later. Nick hurriedly let them in and headed straight back to the computer at the kitchen table to continue running the partial plate. Forensics went to work right away dusting for prints, while Reese joined Nick in the kitchen. Reese glanced at the computer screen. "How much of it did you get?" he asked. "KDV 6 blank blank," Nick replied, without wavering his eyes from the screen. Seconds later, he shouted, "A match to a red van!" Grabbing a pen and paper, he jotted down the name and address while reciting them aloud, "Thomas Bower, 3452 Narrows Lane!" Nick's excitement evaporated as the data on the screen vanished and was replaced with updated information. "Reported stolen," Nick muttered solemnly. He went back over to the couch and sat down. "We'll get someone over there," Reese announced. He called the precinct and relayed instructions. Just as he finished the call, Tracy entered the apartment. Reese glanced over at Nick. "I called her on my way here," he explained. Tracy stepped over to Nick and put a consoling hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she said sympathetically. "We'll find her." Nick just looked up at her and nodded. "I'll make you some tea," Tracy offered. She spun around but quickly stopped and turned back. "Nick?" "Yeah?" he replied glumly. "Natalie mentioned to me the other day that the building management was having security cameras installed. Maybe we can get the..." "Video tapes!" Nick blurted out. He sprang up and raced to the door. Tracy scrambled after him, catching up to him halfway down the corridor. "Do you know where the super lives?" she asked, trying to keep pace with him. "I don't have time to wait around for him to get out of bed," Nick bellowed as they reached the end of the corridor. Nick pushed open the stairwell door and practically flew down the stairs. "I'm going back to the apartment!" Tracy yelled after him. Once on the ground floor, Nick ran to the Management Office two doors up the hall. The locked door yielded instantly to his vampiric strength and he entered the cluttered room. A closed circuit television showing an empty Lobby, and a black VCR sat in plain view on a shelf at the far wall. Nick had to charge through a small beam of sunlight to get to it. Ignoring the acute sting of his seared flesh, he ripped the tape from the VCR and dashed back upstairs to Nat's apartment. When he arrived, he headed straight for the television set. "Our guys called in from the Bowers' residence," Reese announced. "And?" Nick said as he turned on the television and popped the tape into the VCR. "Nothing," Reese replied. "The man is totally legit. He works night shift at a frozen food plant, and the van was missing when he left work to go home. That was around three o'clock this morning." By the time Reese finished talking, Nick and Tracy were sitting in front of the television set watching Natalie being kidnapped right before their eyes. It was Natalie alright, in the front Lobby, being 'helped' along by a man and woman. She looked drunk, but Nick knew she wasn't. "She was drugged," Nick uttered quietly. He could tell the kidnappers' were talking to each other and he silently cursed the tape for not having any audio. "Why would they take her?" Nick asked. "Why? Who? Who would do something like that to her?" Tracy spoke gently, "I don't know, Nick," was all she could say. It crushed Nick's heart to watch it. To watch the woman who had the fortitude and compassion to nourish the last noble remnants of his soul, disappearing before his very eyes. The woman who loved him totally despite what he was. The mortal woman who somehow found his human heart and brazenly claimed it for herself. Nick slid into lethargy. Over and over again he watched the clip and never spoke a word. He was afraid he would explode if he did, reveal the beast to everyone. If it were night time, he would have. If that couple were in this room right now, he would rip out both of their throats without hesitation and without remorse. He knew it for a fact. Tracy finally reached over and snatched the remote control out of Nick's hand. He glared at her when she shut off the television. Tracy glanced up at Reese who was standing behind the couch. "Do something," she whispered. Reese laid a comforting hand on Nick's shoulder. "Look, Nick," he said, "we'll find her. She'll be alright." But his voice lacked sincerity. Nick was a cop. They were all cops. Reese knew right down to the most repulsive detail every sickening scenario that was playing through Nick's mind right now, and 'she'll be alright' wasn't one of them. "Why don't you get some rest," he suggested. "Forensics is finished up. We'll get out of here and leave you alone. I'll call as soon as we get anything from the prints." Tracy covered one of Nick's hands with her own. "I'll stay here with you, Nick," she offered. Nick made a weak attempt to summon up a smile for his partner. "No," he said as he clasped her hand. "Go. Find her for me." With that, he stood up and disappeared into Nat's bedroom. In despair and frustration, he slammed the door tightly behind him. ...Cont'd. in (4/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net ------------- Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (4/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- It was almost nine in the morning when a call came through to the precinct that the van had been found abandoned in a parking lot on Queen's Quay. Tracy was energized by the lead. She had spent the hours since she left Nick, pouring over computer records of similar cases, checking out Nat's recent cases, and looking for anything at all that might connect with Natalie's kidnapping. Tracy arrived at the scene a few minutes before forensics did. Seeing the van there, and believing that Nat had been held captive in it, she could no longer hold back her tears. She sat in her car and cried. When forensics arrived, Tracy simply sat in silence and watched them dust the outer doors of the van for prints. As they worked, her sorrow for Nick and her fear for Natalie transformed into a staunch determination to find a happy ending to this case. A tapping at her side window startled Tracy from her thoughts. It was Captain Reese. "Did you tell Nick," he asked as the window slid open. Tracy shook her head mournfully. "I don't know whether I should tell him about this yet." "We didn't get anything from the apartment," Reese said. "Maybe we'll get something from the van." He and Tracy simultaneously glanced at the heinous vehicle, now being loaded onto a flatbed for transport to the lab. * * * * * It was nearly 11:30 that morning when Natalie woke from her drug-induced sleep. When she tried to move her arms, she realized her hands were tied to the head of a bed. Horrified, she lifted her upper body as far as she could and saw that her feet were also bound. Her heart started to thump in fear and she had to gasp for each breath. It was dark, but she knew it wasn't her room. Through the slats of the window blind, she could discern it was broad daylight outside. She desperately struggled to remain silent, but her panic chose to release itself in a chilling scream. Seconds later, the door opened and a tall man rushed in. "Nick?" she cried, her muddled brain trying to ascertain why Nick tied her up. "You're awake," Steven said softly as he neared the bed. "We can't have you waking everyone up now, can we?" Nat tried desperately to remain strong and calm, but her heart pounded relentlessly, and her stomach cramped up in terror. "Who are you?" she gasped. "You don't need to know my name," Steven told her. He opened the top drawer of the night table next to the bed and pulled out a small vial of liquid and a sterile syringe. He unpacked the syringe and carefully filled it. Natalie's body trembled uncontrollably. "What is that?" she asked. "Please. Please," she begged, "no drugs." "Just something to make you sleep." Steven prepared her arm and gave her the shot. "We sleep during the day," he said, "so you must too." Natalie drifted back into unconsciousness. * * * * * It was noon when Nick heard a commotion in the hallway. "She's back!" he cried out. He bolted from her room to the front door. His heart sank when he flung open the door only to be greeted by Reese and Tracy, who both looked very glum. As they stepped in, the unthinkable thought ran through Nick's mind, that they had found Natalie's body. "Oh, God, no," he moaned. "No, Nick, it's nothing like that," Tracy quickly informed him. "We found the van a few hours ago, abandoned." Nick winced. "A few *hours* ago? Why didn't you tell me?" "I'm sorry, Nick," Reese apologized. "Tracy thought we should wait for the results, and I agreed with her. We didn't want to get your hopes up. We weren't even certain if the van was connected to the kidnapping." "And now?" Nick asked. Reese momentarily stepped into the hall and motioned someone forward. "We brought someone from forensics to fill you in," he said. A short skinny man with a pointed nose wearing thick framed glasses entered the apartment and closed the door. "Who the hell are you?" Nick demanded, furious that the forensic investigation had been relegated to someone he had never even seen before. He scowled at Reese. "He has plenty of experience," Reese assured him. The stranger held his hand out to Nick and introduced himself, "Philip Morris," he said. "Just joined the Toronto team last week." Nick ignored the proffered hand. There was something about this character that he didn't like. "The only prints we found in and around the van belonged to the owner and his wife," Morris explained. "They volunteered to be printed for match purposes. If this van was used in the kidnapping, the kidnappers wore gloves." Nick sighed in exasperation. "So it might not even be connected." Morris casually dropped his arm to his side and reached into his lab coat pocket. He pulled out a gold heart locket on a broken chain. "We did find this in the van, however," he said. "Detective Vetter told me she's seen Dr. Lambert wearing it occasionally." As Morris dropped the locket into Nick's palm, Nick's hand started to tremble. He formed a solid fist around the locket. "It's hers," he mumbled. "I heard you were good, detective," Philip mocked, "but let's not get carried away. There are millions of these things around." Dumbstruck, Nick stared at the man in disbelief. Philip was oblivious to Nick's horrified expression. "We know it's hers because her photo's inside. Beautiful woman, by the way." He looked studiously at Nick for a moment and then chuckled. "And you'd never guess what else!" he added gleefully, "the lucky stiff in the other photo looks a tad like you!" The words had barely escaped Philip's mouth when Nick's closed fist made contact with it. Philip staggered backwards against the door and immediately crumpled to the floor. "What the hell was that all about?!" he yelled, clutching his throbbing jaw. "It is him, you idiot!" Reese bellowed. He reached down, grabbed Philip by the shoulder, and yanked the dazed man up to his feet. "How was I supposed to know?" Philip whined. Reese opened the door and violently shoved Morris into the hallway. "Just get out!" he barked. When Reese turned around to look at Nick, he was greeted by a frightening hostility. "I'm sorry, Nick," Reese said. "I'll have Denison take over for this moron right away." Nick said nothing. He simply turned around and stormed into Natalie's bedroom, closing the door behind him. Reese glanced at Tracy. "Must be hell for him being stuck here, living with that damned allergy to sunlight." Tracy's mind instantly drifted to Vachon. "Cap," she said, "I'm going to check out a couple of sources. It's doubtful anyone will know anything, but..." Reese nodded his head. "Stay in touch," he reminded her as she left. Nick stood inside Nat's room with his back up against the door. He heard Tracy leave, and then Reese leave a minute later. It was only then that he looked at his clenched fist. He relaxed his hand slowly and opened it, and stared down at the shiny locket. "All of the time she's had this," he said, "and never once did I ask her what was inside." His fingers shook as he struggled to release the tiny catch. Inside the locket were two pictures. Two tiny faces, each framed by a heart, Nick Knight and Natalie Lambert. He envisioned her sitting at her kitchen table thumbing through their photos, searching for and cutting out those tiny little faces. He didn't even realize he was crying until a teardrop fell onto the locket and smeared her face in his blood. Another spike of agony impaled his soul at the thought of what she must be enduring at the hands of her captors. Nick staggered over to her bed and fell face down on it, unable to think, unable to move. And then he did something he had never done before. ...Cont'd. in (5/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (5/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- Tracy arrived at Vachon's Church at 1:00. She opened the door and stepped inside. "Vachon, you here? You awake?" she cried out as she descended the few steps to the main floor. Moments later, Vachon materialized from nowhere. "Here, Trace!" he answered, pleased to see her. His smile waned as he approached her. Her face was tight with anxiety. She needed sleep, and he thought she might have been crying. "What's wrong?" he asked softly. Tracy held back another volley of tears. "A friend of mine is missing," she said. "Can you help?" Vachon shook his head doubtfully. "Well, Tracy," he said slowly, "I know I've been able to help you in the past, maybe even a little too much at times, but I really don't have answers to everything." He led her over to the chair and she sat down. Kneeling down on the floor next to her, Vachon took her hand in his. "I can listen though, if that's worth anything." Tracy nodded her head and spoke softly, "She was taken right out of her apartment, Vachon," Tracy began. "I met her at work. We weren't extremely close friends, but I think we were moving in that direction. She was much closer to my partner, his girlfriend actually. It's been much harder on him. He's devastated..." Vachon gripped her hand tightly. "What did you say? Who is the missing woman? What's her name?" Tracy was startled by his heated reaction. "Don't worry, Vachon!" she exclaimed. "It's no one you would know!" "Sorry," Vachon apologized, loosening his grip. His calm composure was instantly restored, and his feelings suitably masked. "Well, her name is Natalie. Natalie Lambert. She's a coroner with the Department..." Tracy stopped speaking when she noticed Vachon's gaze disappear into some unseen world. "I thought you said you would listen," she snapped, a little miffed at his apparent indifference. "I am listening," Vachon maintained, trusting that his voice didn't convey the rage building inside him. As Tracy prattled on about her burgeoning relationship with the Doctor, Vachon tried to reconstruct Derek's visit. He had assumed that Derek hadn't leaked Natalie's name yet. He was all too obviously wrong. He should have went to Nick anyway. And what the hell could he do now? Sunset wasn't for another four hours. * * * * * Tracy was still sleeping on Vachon's sofa when Vachon left the Church at sunset. He had no idea at all where Natalie lived, so he headed for Nick's loft, hoping that Nick would stop there for replenishment before... before whatever it was he planned on doing. Vachon arrived just as Nick was pulling the caddy into the garage. He waited for a few minutes before heading over to the door and ringing the buzzer. Nick reluctantly allowed him entry, and moments later they were face to face in Nick's living room. Vachon was shocked by Nick's countenance. He had seen those unusual blue eyes basking in many emotions -- anger, delight, fear for others, and even once with a mischievous gleam when he pretended he was being hypnotized for Tracy's benefit. Nick didn't have the typical expressionless eyes of a vampire, but the expressive eyes of a human. Raw emotional pain was something Vachon had never seen in a vampire's eyes before. Seeing it here in front of him, he hoped never to see it again. Nick took another long drink from the green bottle he held in his hand. "Well?" he asked, still waiting to discover the reason for Vachon's visit. "I heard about what happened," Vachon said, "and I'd like to help." Nick managed a small smile. "While I appreciate the offer," he said, "I don't know that you can be of any help, Vachon. The ones who took her are mortal and any leads will only come from the mortal world." Nick turned around and took another swallow of cow blood. Vachon steadied himself for the onslaught he knew would come with his next sentence. "That's not entirely true," he offered quietly. A numbing fear gripped Nick's heart at the thought that vampires could be involved with Nat's disappearance. He spun around. The bottle crashed to the floor and he grabbed the younger vampire's shoulders. "Our kind are involved?!" he screamed. "What do you know!?" Vachon winced as Nick's fingers dug deep into the flesh of his shoulders. "Not our kind," he said. "Hunters." Nick released his grip on Vachon and Vachon instinctively backed up. Nick whirled around again, numbed by a new vice of fear tightening around his heart. Hunters could be far more vicious than vampires if it suited their needs. "Talk," was all he said, in a voice filled with a despair that sent a shudder through Vachon himself. Vachon neared the end of his story, "...and I told him to spend the day but to be gone by sunset..." "I'll kill him," Nick declared. "It's too late for that, Nick," Vachon said. "I already did." "And the client?" Nick asked. "Derek never mentioned who it was?" Vachon shrugged. "He never mentioned any names, but I think we both know who it was." Vachon walked over to the stairs and left Nick alone, feeling even sorrier for him for being burdened with that outdated albatross. For the very first time, Vachon felt an ancient longing welling up from within his muddied soul, a longing to carry out his own master's decree. * * * * * "There's no need to be afraid, Ms. Lambert," the man said as he removed the gag from Natalie's mouth. "I'm not a rapist or a serial killer or anything like that. I only want information." But even as he spoke the words, he felt his excitement growing. Steven suddenly wished that Michelle wasn't in the next room. "Why me?" Natalie asked. Her captor shrugged. "Someone suggested that you might have the knowledge I seek." He sat down at the edge of the bed and patted Natalie's leg. "There's no point squirming around like that," he said. "You're not going to loosen your ties, but you may give yourself sore ankles." Carefully studying her eyes for a telling reaction, he finally posed his question, "What do you know about vampires?" Somehow the question was reassuring to Nat. The world just wasn't coincidental enough for a sexual predator or serial killer to be questioning his victims about vampires. Steven saw the change in her eyes, and heard the barely perceptible sigh of relief as she exhaled. He was almost certain that she knew about vampires. "There are no such thing as vampires," Natalie replied. Steven reached over and smoothed a wayward strand of Natalie's hair from her cheek. She flinched under his touch. "Is that a fact?" he said, his interest continuing to waver from the cause towards something much more personal. His rhythmic patting of Natalie's leg suddenly turned into an uncomfortable stroking. Natalie's body tensed as a weight of tears started to fill her eyes. Steven spoke gently. "You're very alluring," he whispered. "I've never had the pleasure of interrogating such beauty before." Silently praying for Nick to come and rescue her, tears started to gush from Natalie's eyes. Steven replaced the gag over Nat's mouth. He stood up by the edge of the bed and started to unbuckle his belt when the door suddenly flew open. "What the hell are you doing!?" Michelle shouted. Steven covertly leaned over Natalie and whispered, "Later." He then sauntered over to Michelle, put his arm around her shoulder, and mumbled something incoherent to her. Finally, they left the room. Natalie's body fell limp in relief. * * * * * Tracy woke from her short fitful sleep. "Damn, how long have I been here?" she asked herself as she glanced around the darkened Church. She felt around the table next to the sofa and found a pack of matches. Vachon kept several packs scattered about to service his multitude of candles. She struck a match, dialled the precinct from her cell phone, and then checked her watch. It was six-thirty. She got through to the precinct and was transferred to Reese. "Captain, it's Tracy. I'm sorry. You don't know how sorry I am, but I fell asleep..." Reese interrupted her. "Photos of Nat and the videotape clip were on the six o'clock news and we've got plenty of calls coming through," he said. "I'll call Nick once you get in. He'll want to check out these leads, but I need to divert some of them. He's just too close to the case." "On my way, Cap," Tracy said. She tucked her phone away and quickly left the Church. ...Cont'd. in (6/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (6/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- The moment Vachon had left the loft, Nick donned his coat and flew to the Raven. It was still early in the evening and the club wasn't open yet. He banged solidly on the door and waited for a response. "Janette is not here," Miklos said as he opened the door. He grinned robustly at Nick. "I'm not looking for her," Nick declared, pushing his way past the burly bartender. "Is LaCroix here?" Miklos gestured towards the back room. "In the back," he said, allowing Nick plenty of room. "Nicholas," LaCroix crooned in greeting as Nick entered the private room. "The bar is not open yet, but I have..." "Just tell me where she is!" Nick shouted. LaCroix cocked an eyebrow. "Where *who* is?" he asked, making a mental note to take care of that loud-mouthed Derek. "You know damn well who. Natalie. I know hunters have her and I know you are to blame." LaCroix chuckled as he sat down on a small grey sofa. "I'm sorry you've lost the doctor, Nicholas, but I assure you that I don't know where she is." "How could you do it?!" Nick yelled. "She saved us. All of us. And you put her right into the hands of those you fear and despise most of all." LaCroix grinned. "If what you say were true, I should consider it repayment of a debt on behalf of her society. Their kind developed the virus to begin with, after all." "I should kill you for what you've done," Nick hissed, stepping towards his master. "But you will not," LaCroix taunted. "Murder does not sit well with the mortal justice system you so espouse." "It's not murder if you're already dead," Nick spat. "True enough," LaCroix grinned, "but to give in to your hatred in a frenzied act of revenge? What then of your high ideals?" "My high ideals are the only reason you've existed this long," Nick growled. His rage finally invoked the vampire, but the instant his fangs descended, his phone rang. Nick flipped it open and stepped outside the private room. "Knight," he almost shouted into the phone. "Nick? It's Reese. We have a slew of leads to check out. Get over here pronto." "On my way," Nick replied. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and stuck his head back inside the room. "If she dies, you die," he bluntly told LaCroix. LaCroix was unimpressed. "And if she lives?" "The next time you interfere in my life, or hers, I *will* kill you," Nick promised. "And the next time it *will be* permanent." * * * * * The precinct was humming with activity when Nick arrived. His co-workers were intelligent enough not to entangle him in idle conversation, and sensitive enough to console him with kind words and compassionate glances. Nick made his way into the Captain's office and found Reese and Tracy at the desk. "So what do you have?" Nick asked them. "We've had over a hundred calls so far," Reese said, "and the stragglers are still coming in." He handed a small stack of papers to Nick. "These are yours, and Tracy has hers. Impossible scenarios and habitual informants have already been weeded out." Nick gratefully accepted the papers from Reese. "Over half the precinct is working on this, Nick," Reese said reassuringly. "Mel's group is weeding out the kooks, Harvey and Dan are collating locations. Everyone who's not sorting is either at a phone or out on the street with a stack of papers just like that one." Nick nodded absently as he skimmed through the leads. His were all in the southwest area of the city. He glanced over at Tracy. "Coming?" "I have my own pile to check out, Nick," she replied. "We'll cover the ground in half the time by splitting up." She smiled encouragingly at him, hoping he wouldn't ask to see her list. Any lead that included the words murder, torture, or sexual predator, wasn't to get as far as Nicholas B. Knight. * * * * * It was only an hour and a half later that Nick finished his last interview. Nothing but dead ends. With his flying abilities, he was able to cover ground in much less than half the time. He spent the next several hours scouring both seedy motels and elegant hotels, flying past dark windows and through silent parking garages, hoping and praying to hear the precious music of Natalie's heart. His quest was interrupted only by his frequent calls to the precinct to see if anyone had had any luck. It was almost two in the morning when Nick's cell phone rang. He quickly descended to the ground and answered it. "Knight!" "Nick. Reese here. We have a lead and I think it's a good one. The witness is reliable. A nurse, works nights." "Go on," Nick said. "She called a few minutes ago. She was on break at work and caught a newsflash on the television. She claims to have seen them." "So has everyone else I've talked to tonight," Nick commented dismally. "No, this is a little different," Reese declared. "The nurse identified them from an incident yesterday. She said it was odd, because she saw them all get out of a van in a parking lot and then get into a blue jeep that was parked next to it. She gave us a time of close to six a.m." Reese paused. "Nick... we never released the time of Nat's kidnapping, and this fits right in." "Something at last," Nick said. "Thank God," he added, and he meant it. "That's not the best part," Reese continued. "She said it was doubly odd, because all they did was drive the jeep next door, right into the parking garage at the Radisson. I sent Tracy and some back-up down there. They should be there in a couple of minutes." "On my way," Nick said. He slammed the phone shut and flew up into the sky. The Radisson was the one hotel that he didn't check. It never occurred to him that Nat's captors would be staying right next door to the parking lot where they abandoned the van. ...Cont'd. in (7/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (7/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- After making contact with almost everyone Vachon knew in an effort to locate Natalie, he completed one last mission and then returned to the Raven. He sat on the roof covertly and waited patiently for the club to close. When the last guest had finally been turfed out into the street, Vachon entered. LaCroix was standing by the bar, his back leaning against the counter. He arched his eyebrows in surprise at his uninvited guest. "What do you want?" he asked. "We're closed." Vachon shrugged. "Simply to carry out my master's orders -- something that you of all people should appreciate. I'm here to see that those who treasure life live, and that those who don't, die." "We all treasure life," LaCroix chuckled. "My master's edict was not restricted to one's own life," Vachon countered. He approached his quarry as he spoke. "You profess concern for Nick, yet hand over the woman he loves to a most certain and most painful death? She is entitled to our protection, and he is entitled to the same freedom to live his life as the rest of our kind, without your puerile interference." "She is entitled to nothing," LaCroix scoffed, "and he is entitled only to what I give him." "You know as well as I do that the connection is shared by all of us," Vachon accused. Stopping four feet from LaCroix, Vachon's eyes turned a brilliant green. "Yet, you would have him believe he is moreso bound to you simply because you turned him? A false claim of exclusivity. How many other lies over the centuries?" "What is it to you?" LaCroix hissed. "He is my friend," Vachon replied truthfully, "and he's already suffered more than any of us should ever have to." Vachon bared his fangs and snarled at his adversary. LaCroix's eyes raged red and his own fangs dropped menacingly. "How dare you challenge me!" he clamoured. "Your eternal life is about to come to an abrupt and agonizing end!" "You will find me more of a threat than you anticipated!" Vachon roared back. Surprised by his own eagerness to do battle, he violently lunged forward to strike the first blow, but was abruptly knocked to the ground by a whirlwind of black that suddenly materialized between him and his target. "But not today!" an ominous voice shouted. Vachon struggled to draw himself up to a kneeling position. He felt blood trickling around his ear and grimaced in pain when he touched the left side of his head. His fangs involuntarily receded and his eyes returned to their normal sullen brown. Confused, he gazed up at the black clad intruder who was now standing imposingly in front of LaCroix. The vampire was over six feet tall and very sturdily built. His hair was black, long and matted, and he sported a long black trenchcoat. "You were only to come if I failed!" Vachon exclaimed. "Where is your companion?" LaCroix spat. "I know your kind always travel in pairs." "Only when our quarry is dangerous," the enforcer replied confidently, "and you are too much of a coward to fall into that category, LaCroix." Vachon searched LaCroix's eyes and found the truth spoken by the enforcer. LaCroix was afraid. There was no longer any hint of aggression in his countenance. Only fear. The fear of one who knew there would be no postponement this time, no last minute reprieve from an eternity of servitude in the pit of hell. A fitting punishment. "You've been warned too many times before, LaCroix," the enforcer charged. "And we are tired of it." Effortlessly, he grabbed LaCroix's throat and started to squeeze it. "This ridiculous obsession of yours to control your progeny's life is no longer simply an embarrassment to the community," he said, "but a liability. And it must end." Vachon could hear LaCroix's larynx being crushed by the enforcer. He listened closely as LaCroix gurgled out the very last lie he would ever utter, "I... don't.... know what... you're talking... about." Still holding LaCroix up by the throat with one hand, the enforcer raised his free arm. He clutched a sharp wooden stake unlike anything Vachon had ever seen. Six inches from the finely honed point, four sharp wooden barbs jutted out. The weapon more closely resembled a giant multi-barbed fishhook than a wooden stake. The enforcer momentarily turned his head to glance at Vachon. He smiled curiously and then spoke, "They're quite the thing, you know," he said. "They can be pulled out, but the heart is ripped out in the process." Vachon cautiously rose to his feet. He found himself drawn to LaCroix's eyes which were now bulging out even moreso than normal. Although he felt a little disappointed that he didn't have the honour of the kill, watching Nick's oppressor squirm in agony and terror was satisfying consolation. The enforcer carefully positioned the deadly instrument over LaCroix's chest. "And on a personal level," he stated calmly, "it really pisses the hell out of me that you would turn over the one mortal we are all indebted to." In a fluid burst of speed and power, the enforcer plunged the lethal weapon into LaCroix's cold, black heart. Vachon watched LaCroix's body react with one last spasm of pain before it was released by its captor and allowed to drop to the floor. The enforcer, a sated grin on his face, then lifted a book of matches from the countertop. He set the matches ablaze and dropped the tiny fireball onto LaCroix's waiting chest. A sizzling, white hot flash flared up and instantly receded, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. His job complete, the enforcer smiled at Vachon and then silently vanished. ...Cont'd. in (8/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (8/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- Nick landed at the back of the hotel and immediately made his way to the front entrance on foot. Tracy and two uniformed officers were already waiting for him just inside the Lobby. "Stay here and keep an eye out," Nick told them. He retrieved a photo of Natalie from his coat pocket and hurried across the lobby to the front desk. "Can I help you?" the blonde clerk asked. Nick showed Natalie's photo to her. "I'm looking for this woman," he said. "She was last seen with another woman and a man. They may be staying in this hotel." The desk clerk grinned. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, "but we're not at liberty to divulge information about any of our guests." "Maybe this will help." Nick withdrew his badge from his pocket and flashed it in the woman's face. She examined the photograph more closely. "I can't really say for certain. I see a lot of people go through here." Nick tuned in to the steady thumping of her heart, and then focused his vampiric senses towards her mind. "Think harder," he directed. "Have you seen this woman?" The clerk hesitantly blinked her eyes and examined the picture again. "Yes," she replied robotically. Nick continued his questioning. "Are the people she was with staying in this hotel?" "Staying in the hotel... Yes... Andersons... checked in around this time two days ago." "Which room?" The desk clerk blinked again before unlocking her eyes from Nick's. She lowered her attention to the hotel computer and punched in a few keys. "503," she finally said. Nick instantly broke the psychic link. "I'll need an access card," he explained. Shaking her head as though to clear it, the clerk replied dubiously, "Certainly... which room was that?" "503," Nick said impatiently. Nick was promptly handed a plain white access card. He spun around and motioned for Tracy to head towards the elevators. The wait for an elevator was excruciating for Nick. He would have flown up the stairwell had his partner and the other officers not been here. They stepped into the cab and when it neared the 5th floor, Nick focused his vampiric senses. He faintly detected a familiar heartbeat -- Natalie's. He and Tracy spurted down the hall and took position outside Room 503. They simultaneously drew their guns and Nick slid the access card quickly through the slot. The tiny light flashed green. He turned the knob and flung open the door. "Don't move! Police!" Tracy yelled at the auburn haired woman who was lounging on the couch. Michelle's arms flew above her head, "I haven't done anything!" she exclaimed. "Cuff her," Nick told Tracy as he raced through the suite to the bedroom. He burst through the door and was greeted by an attempted swift kick to the head. Nick knocked the offending limb aside. Steven lost his balance and fell hard onto his back. Nick's field of vision was now clear and he saw Natalie tied to the bed. She was unconscious. He shot a feral glare at Steven who was lying in a daze on the floor. "If you've touched her, I'll kill you!" he vowed. "In here!" Nick shouted to his back-up. The two officers immediately charged the room. "Arrest him for kidnapping and forcible confinement, pending further charges," Nick ordered. With Steven safely covered, Nick went to Natalie. His heart broke at the sight of her, helpless like that. He untied her feet first, and gently massaged her ankles. She began to stir when he started removing the bindings from her wrists. She opened her eyes and gazed up lovingly at him. "I knew you'd come," she whispered. "I left my locket just before I blacked out." "I know," Nick said, "I have it." All he wanted to do was get her untied and take her in his arms. When he adjusted his position to release her left wrist, he noticed a sealed ampoule and packaged syringe on the night table. He scanned the label. "Scopolamine," he muttered. In a fit of anger, he threw the vial across the room. It smashed against the wall. Nick finished untying Nat and pulled her up into his arms. "Are you alright?" he whispered. "I am now," Nat said, letting the tears fall freely from her eyes. Nick held her and rocked her in his arms. "All of these years of feeling lonely," he said, "and I never really knew what emptiness was until you disappeared." Natalie snuggled even more deeply into him, warmed by his loving words and secured by the strength of his arms. She whispered muffled words into his chest, "I love you." Nick gently eased her chin up until their eyes met. "You already know that I love you," he said, "but there is more than that. I've loved before. At least I thought I did. But it was never like this." Nick kissed the tears from her eyes and playfully licked his lips. He smiled. "Truth serum," he whispered. "I told you something a long time ago that I know still hurts you. I believed it true at the time, but you've proven to me how very wrong I was." He tenderly caressed her cheek as he continued, "I told you that vampires couldn't be 'in love', yet here I am smitten. Completely and desperately in love with you. I don't want to hide it anymore, Nat, and I don't want us to ignore it anymore. Whatever fate it leads us to, that fate won't change by putting into words what is already in both of our hearts." Natalie touched Nick's cheek and planted a soft kiss on his lips. "I haven't heard such beautiful words from you in a very long time," she said, "too long." Nick grinned. He felt an immense relief that his heart had finally been laid bare to her. "Far too long," he whispered. Their intimate moment was interrupted by an untimely pounding on the door. "The evidence team is here," Reese said as he stepped inside the room. He glanced at Natalie. "Do you need a doctor?" A horrified chill swept through Nick. "Oh, God," he moaned, "I didn't even ask..." Natalie's hands were instantly on his cheeks. "It's okay," she reassured him. "They didn't do anything like that." She looked over at Reese. "I'm fine, Captain," she said. "I just want to go home." "Take her home, Nick," Reese ordered as he checked his watch. "We'll stop by there in a couple of hours for her statement." Nick helped Nat up off the bed. Having been laying down for so long, she was a little unsteady on her feet. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her, then led her out of the room and out of the hotel. Tracy was settling Michelle into the back seat of a cruiser when Nick and Natalie neared it. "It's not what you think!" Michelle was screaming. "We were looking for..." She suddenly looked directly at Nick and started to struggle. "He's a vampire!" she screamed frantically. "That's why we're here! We're looking for vampires!" Michelle frantically bobbed her head up and down, trying to point to Nat. "And she *does* know about them!" "Yeah, right," Tracy snapped. "Try explaining that to the judge." Tracy slammed the car door shut and turned around. Nick and Nat were right in front of her, but it was a sudden movement some little distance behind them that caught her eye. Tracy identified the figure as Vachon. "What was all that about?" Nick asked. "Nothing," Tracy replied nervously, "nutcase." Confused by her distraction, Nick touched Tracy's arm. "I'm taking Nat home, Trace," he said. Tracy simply nodded her head and started walking off towards Vachon. Nick and Nat continued their trek towards the east side of the hotel. Natalie stopped and glanced around. "Where's your car, Nick?" she asked. Nick flashed her a peculiar grin. "Around back," he replied. "The only thing around back is a very big lake," she remarked. Nick's attention was suddenly diverted as they passed a second cruiser. Steven was in the back seat, and grinning smugly at Natalie. "I want to kill him," Nick growled softly. "I know," Natalie whispered. "But you can't, Nick." He turned his face towards her and she stared into his eyes, already glowing with the vampire's primal rage. She slowly lifted her hand to his face and gently stroked his hair. "Don't let him destroy everything you've worked for," she said, "everything we've worked for." She tugged gently on his arm until he no longer resisted. They continued to the corner of the hotel, and took the pathway down the side to the back. "I told you the only thing back here was a lake," Nat said when they arrived at their destination. "No car?" "No car," Nick confessed. "Close your eyes." "Wait a minute. You're going to fly me home?" Nat struggled free of him and wrapped her arms around her chest in defiance. "No. No. No," she said. Nick clutched her back into his arms. "Yes. Yes. Yes," he insisted, as he lifted her into the night sky. "And I won't let go." * * * * * "What are you doing here?" Tracy asked Vachon when she reached him. "Well, I was in the neighbourhood..." "She knows about vampires," Tracy blurted out. "I don't know how she knows, but she knows. And she knows you're a vampire." Vachon immediately realized that Nick was the one the hunter sensed. He would have to perform one more good deed tonight. "Well there's only one thing to do then, isn't there?" he asked rhetorically. Tracy gasped. "You can't kill her, Vachon! Even though they both deserve it after what they did to Natalie." "Wasn't that the friend you mentioned earlier?" Vachon inquired. "How is she? Is she okay?" Tracy nodded. "She's fine. A little shaken up." Tracy motioned towards the cruisers down at the curb. "They were the ones who took her and they're going to pay for it behind bars. Hopefully for a very long time. My partner's taking Natalie home now." "I'm glad she's alright," Vachon remarked. "So am I," Tracy said. "What about the woman? Can you make her forget?" Vachon grinned. "I won't know until I try," he replied. "I'll have to visit her accomplice as well. Can you get me near them?" Tracy thought for a minute. "Not here," she told him. "Once they've been booked I can get you inside the precinct. That's the only opportunity you'll have to find them both alone, when they're in holding cells. Once they're moved to a detention centre, you won't have a chance." "All you have to do is get me to a point where I won't have too much opposition," Vachon contended. "Oh," he added teasingly, "and you'll also have to hope that none of the guards are resistors." Tracy smiled. "Consider it done. Meet me in front of the precinct in half an hour." ...Cont'd. in (9/9) Susan B. cd397@torfree.net Daddy Doesn't Live Here Anymore (9/9) by Susan B. February/99 based on characters from Forever Knight, etc. -------------------------------------------- When Nat finally opened her eyes, she and Nick were standing just outside the garage at the loft. "I thought you were taking me home?" Natalie asked. "There's just one little thing I have to take care of first." "Oh?" "They were hunters, Nat," Nick said, "and she knows we're here now, which means the rest of them will find out. If I don't convince these two that there are neither vampires nor sympathizers in Toronto, more hunters will be sent. I have to do it before they have a chance to speak to anyone." "I'm not ready to be left alone, Nick." Nick embraced her. "Don't worry. I'm not leaving you alone. You're coming with me. We'll take the car to the precinct. You'll be perfectly safe the entire time." Their drive to the precinct was quiet. Feeling secure in the familiar confines of the caddy, Nat promptly fell asleep. Nick parked the car and debated with himself whether or not to wake her up. He decided it better to wake her than to risk any feelings of abandonment she might suffer at waking up alone. The presence of another vampire sudden gleaned his attention, and he was instantly out of the car. Vachon greeted him. "Hey, Nick." "What are you doing here?" "I saw what happened at the hotel," Vachon replied. He gestured towards the station. "I've already taken care of them. She hasn't spoken to anyone, and she doesn't remember you. All they will remember is that they didn't find anything here. I've already asked Tracy not to include any of the woman's rantings in the arrest report. Tracy said there was no need to." Nick nodded his head appreciatively. "Thanks. I owe you one." "By the way," Vachon added, "the enforcers paid a visit to the Raven earlier. LaCroix will never be a problem again either." The news stunned Nick. "Are you serious?" Vachon smiled. "Daddy doesn't live here anymore," he said. He gave Nick a robust pat on the shoulder. "Consider it a Valentine's Day gift from the community," he explained, "to you and your doctor friend." Nick's heart flooded over with a renewed sense of hope. "Maybe now I'll have a shot at it," he said aloud. "A shot at what?" Vachon asked. Nick smiled and reached for Vachon's hand. He shook it profusely. "Nevermind," he said, "and thank you." * * * * * Natalie didn't stir from her sleep until Nick carried her into her apartment and laid her down on the couch. "Where are we?" she mumbled groggily as she sat up. "Home, Nat," he said, followed by a kiss to her cheek. "Do you want anything? A sandwich? Tea?" "Both would be nice." Nick retreated to the kitchen for a few minutes and returned with hot tea and a chicken sandwich. "Here. Eat this. Reese will be here soon to get your statement, and then you can go to bed." Nick sat quietly while she ate. Natalie had just swallowed her last bite of the sandwich when Reese arrived. Tracy was with him, along with a uniformed officer who set up the tape recorder. Tracy approached Nat. "What did they want with you anyway?" she asked. "I have no idea," Nat replied, "apart from the woman's raving on about vampires when you were getting her into the cruiser. They were a couple of loons if you ask me." "Well who better to interrogate about the undead than someone who works with the dead," Tracy remarked. It made sense to her, anyway. She just hoped it would make sense to Nat and that Nat would forget the entire incident. Reese took a seat across from Natalie. "Are you okay, Natalie?" he asked. "Ready to go ahead?" Natalie nodded her head, and the tape recorder was started. "Just start at the beginning, and tell us everything you can remember," Reese told her. "Stop whenever you need to stop." "They ambushed me in the apartment," Natalie began. "My necklace broke in the struggle and I hid it in my hand. They stuck a needle in me and everything became distorted. I remember being put into into a van and slipping the locket down the side of the seat. That's when I passed out. When I woke up..." Nat continued reciting her ordeal. Her voice started to waver when she neared the point in her story where she thought Steven was about to rape her. She was on the verge of tears when she glanced over at Nick. "Nick?" He was instantly sitting beside her and tightly holding her hand. She got through the scene, and continued on to the point where she woke up to find Nick untying her. The officer gathered up his recording equipment and left. Tracy and Reese walked to the door and turned around to say their goodbyes. "Take as much time as you need, Nat," Reese said. "You too, Knight. She's been through a harrowing ordeal. She'll need you." "I know that," Nick said. "We'll be back in a few days." Reese followed Tracy out the door. Nick returned to sit beside Natalie. "If that hunter went any further than he did, Nat, I would have killed him. I don't even think your gentle touch would have been able to stop me." "I think I would have let you," Nat replied frankly. "It would tear me apart inside to get from any man the only thing that you can't give me. And getting it that way would destroy me." Nick closed his eyes, damning his lifeless corpse yet again. "I wish I could give that to you, Nat," he confessed. "To make love the way mortals do. To love you the way you should be loved." "I know," she murmured consolingly, "but you are the one inside my heart, and the only one I will ever envision in my bed." Nick suddenly felt her soft fingers caressing his cheek, but the topic of conversation had already aroused the vampire. He deftly wrapped his hand over hers and lowered it to his chest -- his unspoken signal to her that it was time to change the subject. "Have you given any more thought to the dance tonight?" she asked. The vampire was dispatched to oblivion by Nick's bout of laughter. "I think if I can get past this, I can get past the dance," he said. Nat visually inspected the stubble on his chin. "You will shave, won't you?" she teased. "I promise." He paused for a minute. "There's something else you should know, Nat." "What's that?" "LaCroix. He's dead." Nat remained speechless for a few seconds. "How?" she finally asked. "Enforcers. He was the one who set you up, Nat. That, and I imagine the other mistakes he's made in the past, pushed him past the point of their tolerance." "How do you feel, Nick? Are you going to be okay with this?" "I haven't felt freedom like this since the last time," he replied, "when I thought I had killed him." Nick clasped Nat's hands in his own. "We were making real progress then, Nat, before LaCroix returned, before he called to me, professing that it was time for me to wake up to what I was." Nick frowned. "The full measure of his success only dawned on me recently." "And now?" "I think the chances of my achieving mortality have multiplied a hundredfold." Natalie beamed with joy for him. For both of them. "Then it is good news!" "Very good," Nick said, winking at her. "Definitely a reason for dancing." Natalie rose to her feet. "Absolutely," she agreed as she made her way towards the bedroom. "I'm going to get cleaned up and get into bed. There are a couple of bottles in the crisper compartment if you're hungry." "Famished," Nick admitted as he headed for the refrigerator. He stopped mid-stride and raced after Natalie. But he was too late, Nat was already in the bedroom door. "My God, Nick!" she exclaimed. "What happened in here! What were you doing on my bed! Where did all that blood come from!" "I'm sorry, Nat," he replied, somewhat embarrassed. "I never intended for you to see that. I did something for the very first time, and when I realized that miserable truth..." Nick stopped speaking and just stared at her. "We are supposed to be having an open and honest relationship now, Nick," she said sternly, fearing she was about to learn something about vampirism she really didn't want to know. Nick continued, "When I realized that sorry truth, I wept a torrent of bloody tears... for a very long time." Natalie massaged his arm encouragingly and prodded him with her soft voice, "What miserable truth?" "It was the first time I ever prayed to God for someone other than myself." Nick studied her eyes for any sign of aversion to his ignoble revelation, but found nothing there but love and compassion. He smiled. "I prayed for you, Nat," he said, "and I am sorry about the mess." Natalie leaned over and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "No wonder you're hungry," she whispered. "I will clean it up," Nick promised. "Darn right you will," she replied. Nat abruptly turned around and headed for the bathroom. "I'm going to take a long hot shower," she said. She disappeared behind the door and popped her head out moments later. Nick was standing motionless at the foot of the bed, just as she suspected. "Oh, and Nick!" she cried out whimsically. He turned around. "Yeah?" "It's not going to make itself no matter how long you stare at it," she said. Nat pointed towards the far side of the room. "Sheets and pillowcases are in the linen closet." -- The End -- Susan B. cd397@torfree.net