End Game 1/8 by J.Ahn Natalie was uncomfortably warm, despite the air-conditioned chill in the lab. She absently pushed her plastic cap higher out of her face, her bloodied gloves dancing into her line of vision, then out again. Damn, she couldn't get this... She leaned over more, bracing herself against the cold metal table. She gingerly slid her hand into soft flesh, sliced open to reveal whatever trail Death had left. She shifted her hand a little, peering intently beneath it to trace the devastation the bullet had caused, then caught the glint of metal buried deep within. "Nat..." Grace stood in the doorway. "Wait..." Natalie pulled out the bullet, carefully dropping it onto the waiting tray before looking up through goggled eyes. "Just got the call... you're needed." The flashing lights signaled the location of the crime scene--a dark, burnt- out alley that looked as if it housed many of the city's homeless. Natalie crossed under the yellow police line and headed toward the thickest cluster of people milling about, working to get as much information as possible before it started to disappear. Natalie understood their job; she had been witness to many of their investigations. She had her own job to do here. So she knew that as much as she sometimes wished otherwise, there was no time to respect the dead, to talk in whispers, to acknowledge the terribleness of what had happened here tonight. Even later, she knew that these people would not mourn. They could not, night after night, and remain sane. It was something she had learned very early. "Dr. Lambert." Captain Cohen excused herself from the uniformed officers she was talking to and approached Natalie. She indicated the covered body and the two made their way over to it. "How's the Jerguson case coming along?" she asked by way of conversation. "The bullet's being checked against the gun at the lab now." "Good work. Now let's see what we can do about this one." Cohen motioned to the officer and he lifted the cover away, exposing the corpse beneath. Schanke came up beside her as she was making her preliminary examination. "This one looks like a beauty," he commented, watching her as she gently prodded the victim's neck with gloved fingers. "No witnesses, nada. Would you take a look at those bruises?" "Uhmm," Natalie agreed. "Probably strangulation. But let's get him to the lab to make sure." She stood, and the officer replaced the cover. "Thank you, Dr. Lambert," Cohen said, already turning her attention to other details. "Keep me informed." Natalie nodded as the captain walked away. Next to her, Schanke rubbed at his neck a little nervously. Natalie smiled, amused. She looked around. "Where's Nick?" "I haven't seen him. I don't get it. He didn't show up for work. He didn't even call in." Schanke shook his head. "Oh?" ----- "Hi, this is Nick Knight. I'm not in, or I'm asleep. Leave a message, and don't take it personally." Natalie tried to keep the worry out of her voice. "Nick. Where are you?" ----- "Nicola..." A delicate hand snaked around his neck, pulling him close for a kiss. "Janette," he smiled, holding her closer. She looked up at him with surprised pleasure. "Well..." her voice lingered suggestively. He laughed, and for a moment it was as before, for her, for him. They kissed again, once, twice--he could taste blood on her mouth--and he ran his lips over her neck, she tilting her head back slightly and baring her slender neck, both reveling in the intoxicating sensations they aroused in each other. He murmured something, the words muffled against her skin. "Mhmm?" "I'm late for work." Her eyes flew open and she pushed against him. "Nicola!" she objected. She smoothed her dress, her lovely face clearly flustered and irritated. He rarely ever saw her lose her composure, and laughed teasingly. She fought to keep her annoyance, but her expression softened, and despite herself, she smiled. She moved closer for another brief kiss. "Go play cops and robbers, dear Nicola. We'll continue _our_ little game later." ----- ao608@lafn.org End Game 2/8 Schanke looked at his partner with exaggerated shock as Nicholas entered the Coroner's office. "Detective Nick Knight! What a surprise!" "Knock it off, Schank," Nicholas muttered. "So, _partner_...Where were you this time?" "...Visiting an old friend," he replied, a smile in his voice. Schanke knew that had to mean Janette, and dropped the subject. He liked Janette, but those people at that club of hers gave him the creeps. "Yeah, well, you owe me one. I covered for you with Cohen." "Thanks. So what's going on?" "Found a John Doe tonight. Probably homeless. We're still trying to find someone to ID him. Natalie says probable strangulation, and from the bruises on the guy's neck, it was a strong s.o.b. who did it. So far, no witnesses. Of course." Nick nodded, taking it all in. Another night, another murder. At least it wasn't his handiwork. "Well, Schanke..." Natalie walked in, still studying the paperwork. "Nothing really new on that John Doe..." She stopped when she noticed Nicholas. "Hi. You're here." The surprise and relief in her voice was evident. His answering grin was quick, but he offered no explanation. "The John Doe...?" he prompted. "Right...John Doe. I estimate the time of death to be between ten and midnight. Strangulation, but it wasn't immediate, judging by the amount of excessive bruising around the neck area. My guess is that your guy is very strong, but _chose_ to prolong it. Very deliberate." The looks on the detectives' faces were distinctly unhappy. Another monster. Natalie wasn't too happy with this one herself. "I'll have the complete report filed by tomorrow night, at the latest. Have you got an ID for him yet?" Schanke shook his head. "Okay, let me know if you do." She neatly shuffled her paperwork together. "Nick, can I speak to you for a moment?" He looked vaguely puzzled, but nodded. "Sure. Schank, I'll meet you outside, okay?" Schanke was clearly suspicious, and hesitated. He didn't want to lose Nicholas on one of his wild hunches... Nicholas and Natalie could almost read his mind and exchanged a quick, amused glance. "I just need to talk to Nick about some medication I put him on," Natalie said, subtly trying to reassure him. "For his allergy." "For my allergy," Nicholas offered confirmingly. "Oh. Yeah, okay." He looked pointedly at Nicholas. "Just don't take off without me, _partner_. I'll be right outside. Thanks, Natalie." "No problem." She waited until she was sure he had gone. "He's certainly suspicious." Nicholas only shrugged, seemingly unworried. "So where were you?" "...Just had a few errands to run." Her eyebrows rose slightly, obviously wanting to know exactly what these errands were, but not wanting to pry. She felt as if she badgered him enough about his life. He just looked innocently back at her. "I've been trying to reach you." Her face turned serious. "About this case..." "There's something else?" Intuition had him dreading her next words. She lowered her voice. "Nick, he's missing blood." ----- Nicholas absently drove his Caddy through downtown Toronto, worrying over what Natalie had told him. He knew she would hide the blood loss, but what of the next time, and the time after that? He was certain there _would_ be more killings; a vampire's thirst was insatiable, and this one had a taste for cruelty as well. He was baffled by the excessive violence of the murder--what vampire would call that kind of attention to his feedings? Taking his time to toy with his prey in a way that was gruesomely memorable, then not properly disposing of the body. Surely he knew that the Community would never allow such wanton behavior; it put them all in danger. In any case, _he_ couldn't allow the killings to continue. "Earth to Knight." Schanke's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Nick, try to stay with me, would you?" Nicholas looked over distractedly. "Did Natalie give you some bad news?" Schanke asked, concerned. "About your allergy? Look, I know you're trying to beat this thing, but if you have a couple of setbacks, don't let it get you down. Natalie'll come through." "Hmm? Oh, yeah, I guess you're right, Schank." He tried a quick smile. "Thanks." "Hey, that's what I'm here for. In fact--" Just then a call came in over the radio. Arriving at the reported location, Nicholas leaped out of the Caddy and headed into the alley without waiting for Schanke, ignoring the furious protests he heard behind him. He pulled his gun and aimed into the shadows. "Police! Turn around!" The lithe figure turned slowly, the lifeless body in its grasp slumping to the ground. Nicholas stiffened. A girl. She smiled deliberately as they recognized each other, raven-dark curling hair falling long down her back, her full, sensual features arranging themselves into a wickedly seductive, beautiful mask. Then she turned away and was gone. Nicholas wasted precious seconds, stunned still with disbelief. When he moved to follow, it was too late. Schanke was coming up behind him. He couldnt risk Schanke seeing anything--his partners suspicions were already forming again. He swore and looked down at the corpse. "I'll go call this in..." The ambulance had picked up the body and was delivering it to the Coroner's building, Nicholas and Schanke following. "I have to see Janette," Nicholas said suddenly, making a sharp right. "What?" "We're going to the Raven first." "Nick, what are you talking about? Look, we're in the middle of a homicide investigation here. We can't stop off to see your girlfriend!" Nicholas just stepped on the gas pedal harder. Schanke slumped back, shaking his head in disbelief, angry and confused. Tires screeched as he pulled close to the curb in front of the club. "Wait here," Nicholas said before getting out of the car. "Nick," Schanke tried again. "Nick, does Janette know something about this? Is that why we're here?" Nicholas had already disappeared inside. ----- "Back so soon?" "Janette. The murders..." Desire turned to displeasure. "I don't want to hear about your police business." "_Janette_. It's _Anya_." Her face blanched. ----- ao608@lafn.org End Game 3/8 The moon was shadowed, its clear white glow shrouded in soft, dark clouds. The night carried a chill, sharpened by occasional winds that stirred the lonely trees. LaCroix, Nicholas, and Janette found themselves amongst a small crowd huddled together, passing the night with stories and song, food and drink. A murmur of encouragement began, and finally a young gypsy girl stood, shaking out her long peasant dress. "My sister, Anya," the young man beside them said quietly, with pride. "Her skill is unequaled, and this song is performed by her alone-- _Sari Kedi_...The Yellow Cat." The girl began to sing without accompaniment, her audience falling silent, leaving only her rich voice to carry hauntingly through the night air. The Yellow Cat on the hilltop stood, With her eyes of glittering grey. She longed for a drink of purple blood, For the noise and joys of the fray. And all ye good people, remember that: Beware, if you dare, of the Yellow Cat. Nicholas cast a look over to LaCroix, who sat silently away from the firelight. His Master drew amusement from the vampire folklore of the commons, though he loathed to go among them to hear the tales. But surely this young girl's extraordinary artistry was worth the trouble of sitting with the rabble. The Yellow Cat is a maiden bold, A maiden fair and frail; Her hair has the color of burnished gold; 'Twas pressed to her breast in the gale. And all ye good people, remember that: Beware, if you dare, of the Yellow Cat. The Yellow Cat can purr and kiss, And sing a wonderful tune. The Yellow Cat can scratch and hiss And bite and strike in the moon. And all ye good people, remember that: Beware, if you dare, of the Yellow Cat. The young man saw the yellow-haired maid, And heard her entrancing wail. She purred and fawned and kissed and bade Him come to her home in the dale. And all ye good people, remember that: Beware, if you dare, of the Yellow Cat. She chanted divinely of earthly bliss, And heavenly joys ere long, With a wile and a smile and a lying kiss, And the call and the thrall of her song. And all ye good people remember that: Beware, if you dare, of the Yellow Cat. The girl's eyes caught Nicholas', and she stepped closer to the fire. In its glow, her eyes caught the light and blazed as brightly amber as any vampire's. They found the young man, white and stark, As the morn dawned in gold and in rose. What are they whispering? What talking of? --Hark! " 'Tis he whom the she-devil chose." And all ye good people, remember that: Beware, if you dare, of the Yellow Cat. "What has felled him, sturdy and good?" "What smote him, passing fair?" "What is become of his purple blood?" "What blanched his nut-brown hair?" Oh, all ye good people, just think of that: His blood quenched the thirst of the Yellow Cat.* Silence as her listeners watched the echoes of her words eerily die away. Then applause and appreciative shouts rang out, the chime of falling coins adding to the noise. Nicholas strode out to the girl and laid gold in her hands. She gasped, her eyes wide. "Thank you," she breathed. Nicholas smiled and turned away, and suddenly he realized that LaCroix was no longer in the crowd. ----- ao608@lafn.org End Game 4/8 "Are you _sure_, Nicola?" Janette asked with dread. "I _saw_ her. It was _her_. She's been hunting in the area-- strangling and then feeding off the bodies." Their eyes locked, remembering... ----- "Do you know, Nicholas, that on nights such as this one, whispered rumors say that the girl who sings the ballad is actually the Yellow Cat herself?" LaCroix asked idly, gazing at the still body of the young gypsy performer lying between them. "A vampire siren seducing men for the life that flows within them, for their blood. Can you imagine?" He chuckled dryly. "Much as our Janette has done in the past, don't you think?" His eyes lifted, touching on her face. Some indefinable emotion flickered across it. His expression grew faintly ironic. "Do you think, my children, that we should make the whispers come true?" And he lowered his mouth to drink. ----- She awoke with a scream in her throat, thrashing against the odd sensations that pulled her from her heavy sleep. The air was too cold-- she pulled her knees up, wrapping her body around itself to feel her own warmth. She wondered if the fire had died down, and got up to check. There was no fire, and it was night, but everything was so...bright. As bright as daylight, the shining of the luminous stars as bright as flaring torches. The strangeness of it sent a chill of fear through her, and she came fully awake. There was too much. Everything seemed...peculiar. Too real. Her senses were suddenly so alive, so overwhelmed. And there was something else. A...feeling. A...presence. "Very good." A stranger came up behind her, seemingly out of nowhere, applauding. "You can feel it already, can you not?" Anya choked back a half-scream, trying to be brave. "Feel what?" "Me. Us." Suddenly there were others, but she kept her eyes unsteadily on the stranger, afraid to look away, to look at them. "Who are you?" "Forgive me. Allow me to introduce myself," he said, mockingly gallant. "I am Lucien LaCroix." "..._What_ are you?" The stranger considered that one. "Ahh...I suppose the gypsies would call us... _mullos_." Shock reverbrated through her, and she recoiled. "God send you burst!" she shouted. LaCroix laughed outright. "I'm afraid that your curse is nothing but a superstition, my dear. But if it's the name that's distressing you so, there are at least a dozen others. Brahmaparusha. Xiang shi. Vyrkolakas. Vampire." A significant pause. "You will probably hear them all, in time." Anya grew very, very cold. "What do you mean?" "Don't you know, yet? We have passed the Gift to you. You are as we are. Mullo. Oh, forgive me. Perhaps the idea of Sari Kedi is more acceptable?" "Liar!" He smiled, but his eyes were serious. "Not at all." Anya tore her eyes away from him, desperately looking to his companions, needing for them, for anyone, to deny this insanity. She recognized Nicholas, a wild hope coming alive in her smoky grey eyes. "Please," the girl pleaded. He avoided looking at her, knowing that she was begging him to bring the nightmare to an end. At his silence, her bravery crumpled, and stricken, she turned and fled. -- --- The tears had stopped hours ago. Anya sat leaning against a tree, utterly exhausted. She believed LaCroix. The speed with which she fled from him was proof. Her heightened senses and feeling of near-omnipotence was proof. And inside, she could feel a darkness that had not been there before. An unnaturalness. And a thirst. A terrible thirst. She was a mullo. The knowledge shrieked inside her, a silent sound with no humanity. ----- The three caught up with her barely before sunrise. It wasn't difficult to find her, especially when they heard the screams in the distance, and smelled the heavy scent of blood in the air. Even knowing that her hunger had driven her to kill, they did not expect to be met with such grim carnage. Anya was ravaging a village in a frenzy, killing people indiscriminately. Some she murdered outright; others, she strangled as she fed, forcing them to feel every achingly slow moment of death. Her eyes were wild, pale, and... "She's gone mad, LaCroix," Janette whispered, horrified. Uncertain and shaken, they had gone to find shelter from the sunlight, leaving her there at the village, rather hoping that she would be caught out and die that very day. But when they re-emerged, they knew she had not succumbed. They had uneasily decided to leave the matter. She would be hunted down and killed by mortals. Or her insanity would bring the Enforcers' swift justice upon her before long. But somehow, she was still alive. ----- ao608@lafn.org End Game 5/8 "I'm telling you, there's something going on," Schanke insisted. "It's weird. _Nicks_ weird." "I think you're making too much of things..." Natalie said. "I mean, sure, Nick's a little eccentric, but--" Schanke continued to rave. "A _little_ eccentric? He goes charging into a blind alley, _without me_, like he's invincible or something. Then we have two bodies killed the same way in one night, and he just _has_ to stop off and see Janette...If she knows anything, then I should be in there with him. Not waiting in the car. Come to think of it, I should _always_ be there with him. Every time we separate he runs off and ends up following these wild _hunches_...and they're almost always right." "I've got to be missing something." He got up. "And I should go keep an eye on my _partner_," he added with sarcasm. A wave good-bye and he was gone. After he left, Natalie picked up the phone and called Nicholas. ----- Nicholas concentrated, trying to sense Anya. After so many centuries, he wasn't sure if he would be able to. He, as well as LaCroix and Janette, had never tried to strengthen the bonds of their family with Anya. They had never discussed the gypsy vampire ever again. They had all tried to forget it ever happened--out of shame, out of cowardice, out of guilt. "Knight! Are you okay?" Nicholas sighed and looked at his partner with ill-concealed annoyance. "I'm fine, Schank. Im just thinking. You might want to try it sometime." "Yeah? Well, do you have to look like you're dying? It's creepy." Nicholas glared at him dourly. Schanke had been with him all night, never leaving him alone for a minute. He would have to be more careful now, especially after hearing about Natalie's conversation with Schanke. He wanted to go see LaCroix, to find out if he knew anything about Anya, but having Schanke along definitely wouldn't work. He sighed again and closed his eyes, focusing... He opened his eyes suddenly, and ran out of the station. "Knight!" A startled Schanke followed in hot pursuit. They burst into the small motel room, Schanke still wondering what the hell they were doing there. Nicholas hadn't been very responsive in the car on the way over. The dingy room was almost empty, a few clothes scattered about, a bare minimum of things that added up to a temporary sort of life. The two searched through the few possessions, not finding anything that would even serve as identification, much less anything that could be thought of as incriminating. Schanke emptied out the trash can on the sagging bed. "Nick." His partner came over to see what he had found. It was a crumpled napkin from the Raven, the address scrawled across it. "Janette," he breathed. He turned to Schanke, but the detective was already heading out the door. He followed, reaching for his phone to call Janette. The phone rang, but nobody picked up the other end. He hung up and quickly dialed another number. Natalie was finishing a report when the phone rang. "Hello?" "It's Nick. Listen, Nat--could you go to the Raven and see Janette? She's not picking up the phone. I think Anya might be hanging around there. I'm with Schanke, and we're on our way over, but I want you to warn Janette." "Nick--" This wasnt a good idea. "Please, Nat. She needs to be warned." His voice was tinged with worry. "I have to go." She looked at the phone in her hand, listening to the dial tone. This _really_ wasn't a good idea, but she knew that Nick wouldn't ask this of her unless he was desperate. She put down the phone and grabbed her car keys off the desk. "Janette?" Natalie wandered cautiously through the Raven, hesitantly moving downstairs. "Dr. Lambert? You shouldn't be here." Yeah, well, that's what I think, too, she thought. "Nick called to say that Anya got away, and he thinks she's coming here. He's on his way over, but he wanted to warn you." "I see. Nicola can be a little overprotective, as I'm sure you--" Janette broke off as they both heard the sounds of violently shattering glass. "Wait here," Janette told Natalie. She moved past her and went upstairs, moving quietly. ----- ao608@lafn.org End Game 6/8 She found Anya seated on top of the bar, cross-legged. The girl looked utterly defeated, and very, very tired. She approached her slowly, dispassionately taking note of the enormous amounts of glass and alcohol and blood that lay splattered around the bar. It appeared her entire stock was gone, but Janette wasn't concerned with that just now. Anya looked up and almost defensively moved behind the bar. "I thought you were gone for the night." "No. The club is closed, but I often stay here." "Oh." Her chin came up defiantly. "That doesn't change anything. You're not going to stop me." "Of course not," Janette agreed blandly. "Stop you from doing what?" The girl didn't answer. Instead she looked into Janette's eyes, tears filling up in her own. "How do you stand it?" she asked. "The centuries full of nothing but death. The compulsion to kill. The need for blood. And the loss of control to all of it." "It is part of what we are, ma petite." It was the wrong thing to say. "No!" Anya shouted, slamming her hands down on top of the bar. "That's not good enough!" She began to pace agitatedly back and forth. "Those first years were awful. I would awaken covered with blood, but I would still feel hungry. Always. I tried to go back to my village, but I couldn't help myself and ... I killed them. I killed my own mother and father, and fed from my own brother." Her voice broke on a sob. "I tried to control it, I tried. But I couldnt." "Anya..." She stopped, eyes staring fixedly, as if looking into the past. "Do you remember? I used to sing the Sari Kedi. I was the _best_. I had a family, and was betrothed to be married. I had such a blessed life. And then it was all _gone_. I became a...a monster. A _mullo_. And I was so alone." She wailed it aloud. "Anya! Listen to me. You don't have to be alone." Janette took a slow step forward, her shoe making a tiny wet splash in a puddle of vodka. "Im your family. As is Nicola. And LaCroix." She hissed. "LaCroix!" she cursed. "Yes--LaCroix," Janette said. "He--_we_--made a mistake. We should have been with you at the beginning. We could have helped you. Let me help you now." Anya looked coldly at Janette. "Help me? And what of the many that I've killed? Will you help _them_?" Janette couldn't help it; she sighed. The child almost sounded like Nicola- -all that morality, clinging to mortal rules and suffering with the guilt. "No. But we _can_ help you, nonetheless." "I dont believe you. She looked down, her face unbearably sad. "Its too late." Her head came up again. "I chose this place very carefully. You see, I'm going to die here." Anya's trembling fingers pulled out a matchbook. She showed it to Janette; it had the Raven's logo imprinted on it. She lit one, holding it aloft, and paused. "I find it comforting that you're here. After all, the one who made you, made me. And all of you cursed me. _Mullo_!" she spat at Janette, her voice rising to a fanatical shriek. The flaring match dropped and caught to the deadly mixture of alcohol and blood. ----- ao608@lafn.org End Game 7/8 Downstairs in the cellar, Natalie smelled smoke. She ran out to the stairs, catching glimpse of the fire already raging towards her. Suddenly she couldn't breathe, terror closing her throat as she swallowed convulsively. She started to search for a way out, heading down blind hallways and trying doors, looking for windows to break open. But in the vampire's haven, a confusing labyrinth of darkness, there was no way out. And the fire seemed to get closer and closer. Finally she ran into one of the rooms and slammed the door. "Oh, God," Natalie prayed. She could hear the crackle of fire through the door, hot under her hand, and she backed away from it. Then the door ripped away, a giant *whoosh* of air rushing past her. Janette appeared out of the thick smoke, eyes blazing. Fire roared behind her, eerily framing her with its flickering light, alive with destructive glee. Her strong hand grabbed Natalies wrist, pulling her out of the room into the midst of the fire. Natalie couldn't help it. She panicked. The fire was so close and suffocatingly hot, and it was consuming _everything_. All she could see in the smoke was herself burnt, burning, her flesh blackening under the malicious flames. She balked, resisting against Janette's grip, but Janette merely hauled her out into the hallway and the two ran up the short flight of stairs, Janette using her strength and speed to forcibly move them through the flames to safety. They ran through the club, Natalie struggling for breath in the smoke. As they passed, part of the wall collapsed, raining fire on them. Janette shoved Natalie away from her and suddenly she was shrieking horribly as the fire leaped upon her, clinging to her as she flailed against it wildly. Natalie screamed, trying to shield her eyes from the hurting brightness, paralyzed as she watched the fire torch the vampire. Then a dark form was there, cloaking the fire. _Nick_. Nick was there supporting Janette, wrapping her in his overcoat, smothering the flames. But the fire was moving faster towards them. "Nick!" she screamed. "Get out of here!" he yelled back at her, and she managed to stumble to the door and _out_, shooting a fearful look over her shoulder. The cool night air was clear and sweet as she fell into Schanke's arms. Schanke helped Natalie to the ground, trying to help brace her against the tearing coughs that wracked her body. "Nick," she gasped out. "And Janette. They're still in there." Schanke looked at the burning club in horror. His eyes blazed as violently as hers, trying to think beyond the terrifying fire that raged around them. He looked at Janette, her dress smoking and her hair scorched, her body severely burned and blistered from the searing heat. He couldn't let her be seen like this...and everyone would be out there waiting for them. Janette, maddened with panic and pain, only knew that she had to get out. To _survive_. She clawed wildly at him, fighting against him as she couldn't against the threat of the fire. Nicholas held her, trying to make her calm, but she was strong and desperate, shoving against him blindly. "Janette!" he barked sharply. She hissed, still trying to break away from him. The fire was creeping closer, surrounding them, and he realized that they were encircled by the flames, trapped and running out of time. He snarled, fangs bared dangerously, and incredibly, his hot glare caught a brief glimpse of Schanke near the front entrance, doubled-over and coughing, and watching them with shock and fear. "Schanke!" The distraction of Schanke seeing him as a vampire shocked Nicholas, and Janette fully used the moment to break out of his grasp, taking flight and quickly being swallowed by the dense smoke. He tried to follow, but fire filled the air, the ceiling disintegrating around him and blocking his way. "Janette!" he screamed hoarsely. The roar of the fire drowned him out as the flames blazed up. ----- ao608@lafn.org End Game 8/8 Natalie answered the door, relieved to see Nicholas waiting in the hallway. He hadnt yet gone home to change, and the violent scorch marks on his overcoat gave mute evidence to the nights events. "Nick," she swallowed, and was suddenly engulfed in his embrace. "Nat, are you okay? By the time I got to the hospital, you had already been released." She nodded. "I checked out fine. I'm just a little shaky. How's Schanke?" "I haven't seen him yet, but the doctor said that he's going to be okay. Myra and Jenny are at the hospital now. I'm going back over there later." He was too tense. "Nick, what's wrong?" "Schanke saw us...Janette and me. In the fire, before we got out." "He...saw you?" In her mind's eye, she could see Janette, her eyes as hot as the fire, fangs bared against the flames. And then she saw her on fire... Nicholas nodded. "What are you going to do?" "I had him forget, but..." "...But it might not work." He nodded grimly. "It would be all too easy for the connections and memories to come back. _All_ of them." "So...?" He had been thinking of a way... "Ill take care of it." Natalie was afraid to ask. His eyes were unreadable. Finally she just nodded; she would have to trust Nicholas to take care of it. To keep his secret safe, and to protect Schanke. Schanke had come so close to discovering the truth before, and that little bit of knowledge was so dangerous to have... Whatever Nick had to do... She wouldn't pursue it. There was something else she needed to know. "Nick...how's Janette?" He looked at her, his eyes sad. "She's supposedly died in the fire. Too many people knew she was in there, and knew she didn't come out with Schanke and me. But she's okay, she made it out. She'll have to move on, but she's alive." She put her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Nick." She paused. "She saved my life." He half-smiled, but the expression on his face was already utterly lost. -- --- Myra and Jenny looked up as Nicholas came into the hospital room. "Jenny, honey, lets go and get something to eat, okay?" Myra asked, her eyes moving from Nicholas to Schanke. Nicholas smiled uneasily as they passed by him, Myra putting her hand on Nicholas arm briefly. The door closed behind them. Nicholas moved a few steps closer to the bed, his partner looking faintly ridiculous in the flimsy hospital gown. "How are you feeling?" "Not too bad. Mostly smoke inhalation. I'll be out of here soon, as good as new." "That's great." Nicholas was already thinking his good-byes, knowing that they couldn't be partners any longer. Schanke was looking at him a little awkwardly. "Nick...about Janette. I'm sorry, I know that the two of you were really close." He paused. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "Thanks." ----- She looked around the Raven, charred and blackened, hollow now of any life she may have had here. Nicholas came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Janette smiled slightly and leaned back into him. "How is Detective Schanke?" "He'll be okay." He paused, thinking of Schanke, and Myra, and Jenny. "He's...forgotten, but I had a...talk...with Cohen. I've arranged for him to be transferred to another precinct. It'll be...safer." "Yes," she agreed. "Nat says thanks." She remained quiet. He kissed her cheek tenderly, thanking her, too. The silence between them grew longer. They were both thinking of Anya, saddened and regretful. "Where will you go?" he finally asked against her ear. She only shrugged, and asked the question she swore she would not. "Will you come with me, Nicola?" He was silent, his eyes closed as he played out his regrets once more in his mind. And he knew he could not leave. If there was a _chance_ that Natalie could cure him of this eternal curse, he had to stay. His silence was enough, and she turned to kiss him on the lips before pulling away, her heels echoing loudly through the desolate ruins as she walked out of his life. End. ----- I was working on the flashback and thought that I would slip in a sort-of response to the song challenge ... Actually, its not quite a response ... just more like a song on the fringe of a storyinstead of a story directly about a song, but ... well, why not? *The Yellow Cat Vampire ballad is recorded in _Bypaths in the Balkans_ (1906) by W.V. Herbert >From Rosemary Ellen Guileys _The Complete Vampire Companion: Legend and Lore of the Living Dead_ ----- Jennifer Ahn ao608@lafn.org --