Date: Thu, 14 Jan 1999 18:45:18 -0500 
From: Lady Selinthia <zelna@sprint.ca> 
To: FKFIC-L@LISTS.PSU.EDU 


The Gathering 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Selinthia Avenchesca
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
zelna@sprint.ca
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[After Unspoken Knowing]

Part 1
~~~~~~~

The building was long and rectangular shaped, sprawling across the horizon.
And yet, as well, it was pearly white, sharply lovely, radiating
an aura of power and belonging.
All around it, rested the ice and snow of the cold-bound season.
In day, the sunshine above would reflect upon the ice, reflect upon the
marble, reflect back and back, until the light blazed into a brilliant
white glow. But the inhabitants did not see this.
They preferred to keep to the dark, cool, hollow bedrooms, safe and
comfortable in sleep.

Now, the moon ruled, the stars glimmered, the glow soft and enchanting, in
opposite to the day's bright power.
Within, the vampires stirred.
* * *

The old man eyed the other across the table, warily. The look contained no
hostility, but the knowing caution of one who had known great danger in his
life, and was not wont to take chances where none where necessary.
The look was returned with one of cool amusement.
Finally, the silence was broken.

"I knew you would survive. From the day I made you, I knew that you would
be old indeed the day you died for good," spoke Lucien LaCroix.

"I have not yet reached that day yet," answered Thomas Constantine.

"Exactly my point," returned LaCroix, voice a velvet purr.
* * *

Nicholas paced up the hall, oblivious to the smooth white walls. He did not
like this. It was dangerous, especially in these superstitious times. If
they were to be found. . .
For once, LaCroix had not recognized the danger, or, if he had, he had
dismissed it. The frenzy had swept the Community, as the vampiric
population was still, even now, entitled. A gathering, a meeting of all
of their kind that lived. The population was relatively low, so it
should not be too hazardous, and the idea, to most, was simply marvellous.
Those few that held misgivings were ignored, their worries dismissed.
Should the mortals find this place, however. . .
Nicholas sighed. The location was extremely remote, and though there
was no telling how long this gathering may last, it would be at least two
seasons before the humans ventured anywhere near the area. And, as LaCroix
had argued, those few that actually roamed too close, could be hypnotized
and
sent upon their way, or, barring that, killed.
All very logical arguments.
But that was not the only thing that Nicholas was worried about.
It was the nature of vampires themselves, something the others, especially
LaCroix, should have realized, but did not.
Vampires tended to be very quick tempered, territorial creatures. A
gathering of this magnitude was headed for but one inevitable result.
Nicholas grimaced as he reached the end train of his thought:
'. . .Disaster.'
* * *


The girl was seated upon the dais, calmly petting the golden fur of the
dog.
The canine creature seemed to give a low growl at this treatment, but after
a moment, it is noticed that indeed, this was not a growl, but, strangely,
a purr. Grinning, the girl firmed her strokes, and then moved to sharply
ruffle the dog's silky ears.

"If carouche dogs purr, what do you suppose cats do?" a voice addressed the
girl.

Glancing up, the girl's eyes met those of the speaker. A grin suddenly
broke
out on her face.

"Nick! I didn't know you were here!"

Nick chuckled as he looked upon the girl, who was the only known fledgling
of the vampire Jodie. Jodie herself had been destroyed several millennium
earlier, despite her powers, and those of her canine companion, the golden
retriever, Perry. She had become involved in a feud with another vampire
who,
in the end, had struck the last blow. Perry had survived and taken up
company
with the girl, Lisanne. Nick secretly suspected that Jodie had wanted Perry
to protect the girl, should anything happen to Jodie herself. Elsewise,
the dog, a very loyal creature, would have gone straight to the grave with
Jodie, fighting to the end.

"I don't want there to be a 'here.' But there is, and so I'm here."

"I know what you mean,' Lisanne grimaced, 'This entire gathering is a
recipe
for disaster."

"Yes, but not many seem to understand that. I think it's because after so
much time, the circumstances are finally stable enough for regular contact
again. Some think that things should be how they used to be. But I don't
think circumstances are nearly stable enough yet for that. LaCroix is here
to form alliances and "spend time in half civilized company," as he put it.
Maybe that's what it is for others as well."

"Maybe. But most of us barely know each other, and have our own ideas as
to how things should be. Not everyone will be here, of course, but there
are more young ones around than there used to be. . ." she mused, and
smiled
once more. "But you mentioned LaCroix. Everyone that is anyone is expecting
him here. The fledglings, clueless dears that they are, are sooo eager to
impress him, and gain his favour, and, of course, perhaps 'a' favour. Or
two."

Nick smiled in return to her grin. Lisanne was like a bright night flower.
She seemed to lighten a mood for nearly anyone. Of course, Nick mused,
there
were times when you didn't want a mood lightened, in which case, she could
be rather irritating. But now was not one of those times. Best enjoy the
good whilst it lasted in a bad situation.

"Someone is always posturing for someone's benefit. LaCroix will just
ignore
them, of course. Or,' Nick added, grinning impishly back at her,
'Indulge in a show of intimidation."

Lisanne snorted at that. She knew it had been deliberately mentioned in
regards to the first time that Lisanne had met LaCroix.
Lisanne had been passing through the area in which both father and son had
been living at that time, some five centuries ago, and Perry had decided to
go exploring. Lisanne had been disturbed from the reading of a novel of
mediocre quality when the once Imperial Roman General known as Lucien
LaCroix
had swooped into her sitting room, holding the snarling, twisting Perry in
a grip by the scruff. It seems that Perry had wandered straight into
LaCroix's front room, through an open window. Deciding that the intrusion
was
not severe enough to warrant the destruction of the dog, but that he was
certainly annoyed, LaCroix had quickly decerned whom the dog was travelling
with, and returned in, with warnings and threats aplenty, to it's
companion.
Shortly thereafter, Lisanne had met Nicholas, and before she knew of
his relationship to LaCroix, they had formed an easy friendship. When
she did learn of the situation, she already liked Nick too much to change
it.

"He is too good at that," Lisanne retorted.

Nick laughed. "We all have our talents."

At that moment, Perry barked and jumped into Lisanne's lap, apparently
growing tired of this inattention upon her part.

"Ooof,' The air whooshed out of the girl at the golden retriever's solid
weight.
"Perry! You're too big to hold on my lap!"
* * *


LaCroix smiled ever so slightly as he walked down the hallway. This was
interesting. Perhaps there was more than simple amusement to be gleaned
from this gathering. It reminded him, strangely enough, of the "gathering"
club he had once owned, those many, many centuries ago. What was the name?
Ah, yes, the "Raven." Janette had owned it for several years and passed it
to
him when his daughter had moved on. A slight scowl passed over the master
vampire's face when his train of thought lead him to the results of that
moving on. Shaking his head slightly, LaCroix dismissed the memories.
He did not want to contemplate such things right now, as they would sour
his unusually light mood.
Laughter caught his attention then, the laughter of a female vampire,
and the unmistakable chuckle of his son.
Diverting his course, LaCroix headed towards an open, high domed room,
who's centre featured a circular tier, not unlike that which may have
sported a throne in a ruler's palace.
Ice blue eyes flicking impatiently about, his gaze came to rest upon
Nicholas, who was grinning, leaning back against one of the
pillars that stood at the top of the dais, looking on as a great, golden
beast of a dog jumped all over a slight, blonde haired vampire girl.
LaCroix scowled once again as he recognized both the girl, unruly chit
that she was, and the dog, that intruding beast.

"Hello, Lucien," Nicholas greeted him.

LaCroix lifted an arched brow. Nicholas rarely called him Lucien, but when
he did, it usually meant he was in a very good mood. Intrigued, LaCroix
decided to put off his disapproval of the girl and the dog, for the moment.

Nicholas had not approved of this gathering to begin with, had been in a
disapproving mood since the idea had surfaced. And now that they were here,

he was laughing, even happy? Perhaps, LaCroix reflected, he had simply
decided to enjoy the company. Well, he could have picked better. Then
again,
Nicholas never did have very good judgement.

"Nicholas," he responded dryly.

The girl said nothing, did not intend to say anything. She herself was
old by vampire standards, but LaCroix was ancient. She doubted that
he would simply kill her for no reason other than his disapproval of
her friendship with Nicholas, but, you could never tell, and she
was not about to take chances. And so, she remained silent.

"What were you doing?" Nicholas inquired.

"Speaking with our old 'friend,' Thomas Constantine."

"He lives?"

"Indeed, Nicholas, you really should pay attention more often. He has
formed
many alliances amongst the Community. Ever the business man, that one. A
survivor, as well. But then, it was rather obvious," he shrugged, seeming
to dismiss the matter.

Perry, having subdued for the moment, suddenly jumped to his feet,
letting out a sharp bark as another presence registered in the room.
Eyes swung about the entrance. Both Nicholas and LaCroix nearly fell from
their feet. Looks of shock as had not graced their faces for long centuries
suddenly lite their features. The feeling, the essence of the other
suddenly washed over them. A long, low gasp sprung from Nicholas' 
lips. Twin, hushed whispers, echoed.

"Janette."
* * *

The woman had entered the building with the smooth, unearthly stride of
an ancient, power radiating all around her. There were very few truly
old ones left in the world, and LaCroix and Nicholas had been the oldest
to grace this gathering. But this woman, she was an ancient as well.
She, with her determinedly set expression,  did not seem in a talking mood
and so, most had avoided her, letting her simply walk on her way, though
more than one admiring glance was cast. She had not intended to come to
this gathering, originally. She had been doing quite well in the city she
had chosen to inhabit, currently. Mortals had finally evolved enough to
once again make for half-fitting company, and so she contented herself with
amusements. The call for the gathering had went out, and she had scoffed.
But. . .It had nagged at her. What if. . .What if they were there? She knew
they lived still, had heard of them, but there was no reason. No reason.
She had not wanted to speak to them again, to become involved in their
games, their little feuds. But, in her heart, she missed them.
Though Nichola had wronged her, had went against her wishes at 'that'
moment, though LaCroix would once again demand her allegiance were she to
return to them, though there were so many reasons to never go near either
of them again. . .Even as she argued with herself, she knew that she would
go. She missed them. It was that simple. Janette let out a sigh as she
walked
the halls, approaching that door, hearing Nichola's happy laugh. How long
had it been since she had heard him laugh in such a manner? How many
thousands of years? Could she even remember the last time? LaCroix's voice,
wry as usual, but tinged with a good humour that had most certainly been
lacking when last she had met with him, echoed in the room. A dog
barked suddenly, as she realized that their diverted attention had been
called to her presence. As she stepped in the doorway, their gasps rang
out, whilst an unknown girl sat on a step, uncomprehending.
Her name was called out by them, her family. It seemed unreal. It wasn't.
Janette DuCharme had returned.
* * *

They stared at her, loosing all sense of self in her sudden appearance.
Though both had known her alive, they had thought her lost to them,
forever.
She had never attempted any contact with them, had spurned any attempt to
contact her, as well. And now she was here. For a moment, Nicholas even
wondered whether this was a dream. But she was there, and no one was
asleep.

End Part 1

Part 2
~~~~~~

"I am willing to renew my association with the both of you,' she spoke, 
as LaCroix, Nicholas, and Janette herself reclined upon the chairs in one
of 
the many large, private dens. They had moved from the 
sprawling, tiered room to more private surroundings, leaving Perry and his
mistress to their play. Both males were rather subdued, though LaCroix had
regained his mask-like composure. 

"However,' Janette continued, 'I will not have it be as it used to. Even 
before the end of the Old Era, I had realized that I do not need you both
to survive. We are family, it is true, but we are also individuals. I think
it is the fact that each of us, in our own turn, were unable to admit this 
truth, that there was so much trouble between us."

A long silence followed in which Nicholas started at her, and LaCroix
frowned
at her, though warmth and amusement shone with sudden brightness in his 
blue eyes. 

"That said,' Janette continued, 'I would like to renew our friendships, our
family ties. To find out just what my father and my brother have been doing
these past millennium," she smiled, somewhat impishly.

Nicholas leaned forward then, as he spoke with a sudden intensity that 
threatened to overwhelm him; "I would like that. I've missed you, Janette."

"And I you, Nichola,' turning, Janette spoke to the one who had remained
silent. "And you, LaCroix? Would you also like to renew our ties?"

A long moment went by as that statement, almost a demand, hung tensely in
the
air of the room. The answer, whatever it may be,  would decide their
future.

"We have missed much time,' LaCroix noted at last, 'But we've more than 
enough to make up for it."
* * *

They were compact, dark clad, and menacing. At the slightest gesture from
those not amongst their ranks, they would hiss, jerk, and growl in warning
or threat. They say old habits 
hard, and for the vampires who were once known as the Enforcers, this was 
never more true. There existed not but more than ten of the old Enforcers 
now, but still they were respected and feared. The surviving ones had come,

one and all, given no choice amongst themselves. For to them, this
gathering 
was more than simply a social event. It was the reforgeing of the 
Community, to renewing of ties amongst vampires world over, and the time 
in which the Code would again rule the vampire world. 
A tall male Enforcer with shiny brown hair and green eyes who was known as
Huer 
turned to his colleagues with a determined expression, and said, 
"There will be opposition, you realize. They will not enjoy relinquishing 
their unlimited freedom."

A slim woman who would appear to human eyes are a mortal just approaching 
forty grimaced in disgust at this statement. "They do not have unlimited 
freedom. They simply hide themselves as it is. But the mortals have
evolved again to the point where the Code becomes necessary once more. Not
nearly to the level taken in the last years of the Old Era, of course, but 
at least some rules will need to be enforced. The young ones are so used
to their carelessness, thinking they are taking care of their secret. In 
the Old Age, they would have been discovered in a moment's time!"

Another male, diminutive, but solid, sneered disdainfully at her. This one,

the son of a since destroyed Enforcer, had been brought across
but several centuries ago. He knew nought of the true 
level of secrecy required then, and so held the talk of it in contempt. 

"But this is not the old age, Welya, no matter how much you may preach it,"
the younger vampire, Des, growled at the Elder. 

Welya scowled at the male, angered by his insolence and his ignorance. 

"No it is not," she hissed in turn, "But who knows but that the mortals may
build themselves back up to that level once more. It is all but inevitable.

And what then? When we know no caution as the result of millennia of 
indulgences. This was ever the purpose of the Enforcers. To protect the 
secrets of the Community, to make sure mortals were ignorant of the truth
of 
our existence. Perhaps this time we could have avoided even fairy tale
rumours, 
but we waited too long. Even now, there are whispers of brutal, seductive 
creatures who come in the night and drain the blood of the "living."
Hopefully, the rumours will once more be dismissed as nothing more than 
sexual fantasies. But that as it may, at present the belief is building. 
If we do not take pains and make sacrifices at the present
to conceal ourselves, these rumours may very well lead to our destruction!"

Another Enforcer, heretofore silent, spoke in grave, yet childish voice. 
It had been wondered upon previous occasions why 
this one had been trained as an Enforcer, unintimidating as he was. Those 
that knew him did not question, however. Small though he may be, his
cleverness 
and street-wise knowledge had always been effective. 

"Perhaps, if the Community were to help in the decisions, they would be
less resistant to the necessity of it. They could form a committee," he 
shrugged. 

Huer stared at the other, suddenly breaking out into a grin. 

"You mean a council? Democracy?"

"I never thought to hear that word again," Welya muttered sourly. 

"They would be given a part in the construction of the laws which would
define
the "new" version of the Code," spoke the child-like voice, "At our
approval, 
of course."

"At our approval," Des echoed, wryly. 

"I like it," Huer noted, and then glanced at the others, "Are we agreed?"

There were murmurs and nods of assent from the group, as the other
Enforcers
agreed. 

Huer gave a nod to the originator of the thought and said, 
"Excellent idea, Daniel."

End Part 2


Part 3
~~~~~~~

The previous night had been exhausting, sitting up far into the morning
with 
tales of the many centuries spent separated, though they could not even 
begin to speak of everything that had happened during that time. After 
several hours in the den, they had retired to curl up on the couch in 
LaCroix' and Nicholas' suite, sipping at glasses of blood wine, bottled 
blood an anachronistic trait that the old vampires had taken back to in 
recent centuries, under circumstances where they predicted prey would be
not 
so available, as well as keeping for the likely hood of company. As the 
unseen sunlight approached noonday point, their eyes began to droop as
exhaustion crept stealthily upon the trio. Very nearly, they were asleep, 
when a solid knock sounded upon the heavy door of the room. 

All three pairs of blue eyes snapped fully open, to focus upon the door. 
Once more, the knock sounded. LaCroix grimaced, and 
stood, striding to answer the insistent knocking. His face was a mask that
reveal his annoyance only through the evidence of narrowed eyes. A sharp 
tug set the door open, revealing to the occupants of the room the 
determined face of a small boy. 

"It seems,' LaCroix remarked dryly, sourly, in the face his own shock at 
Daniel's sudden appearance, "That today is a day of many reunions."

Daniel, peeking his head into the room, caught sight of Janette, who was 
gazing upon the boy in delighted shock, even as he spoke, 
"Hello, Princess." 

Nicholas, who had remained seated, rolled his eyes ever so slightly at the 
nickname. Ever the little charmer, Daniel had been. He frowned though, 
as he thought of the events that had lead to Daniel's separation from the 
trio in general. The small period of peace that the vampire family had
known when Daniel first came to be with them had begun to decay the moment 
that LaCroix had brought the boy across, and though the child's charm, the
novelty of the boy, had kept them together for some time afterwards, it was 
an uneasy peace, at best. 
Nicholas had eventually left, once more trying to escape from LaCroix, and 
LaCroix, of course, had followed, leaving Daniel with Janette.
Unfortunately, 
an old enemy of Janette's had turned up, managing to kidnap the boy, to
spite 
her. Though Janette had destroyed the enemy, Daniel had not been found, no 
matter how much Janette had searched. Eventually, she had resigned herself 
to the idea that the boy was dead. 

"Where have you been?" she exclaimed, as though the boy had never left
them, 
as though he were simply late coming home before the dawn. 

Daniel cocked his head, glancing up at LaCroix. "May I come in?"

LaCroix, ever suspicious, frowned at the boy. "What do you want?"

"To discuss the formation of the new Code," Daniel answered, gravely. 

"New Code?" Nicholas exclaimed, attention fully captured. 

"It is time to reinstate the rules of vampire society," Daniel explained to

all three, "But the Enforcers believe that it will be taken harshly after
these many centuries of freedom. So, we have decided to let the rest of the

Community in on the decisions."

"We?" LaCroix questioned darkly, catching on the distinction. 

Daniel grinned at the people who had once been his family, no matter how 
short the time, and clarified, "I'm an Enforcer."
* * * 

"And so the Enforcers are to generous enough to let the "little people" in 
upon the big decisions," LaCroix sneered, irritated at the implications. 

"It would be disastrous to simply demand compliance," Nicholas noted before

Daniel, seated in a chair across from LaCroix, could answer. 

"Exactly our thoughts," Daniel confirmed, "Of course, there are too many 
vampires, even at this time, for all to decide, and so it has been decided 
that a Council will be formed, so that the Community may be represented in 
the resumption of the Code. Times have changed, and so the Code must too. 
All three of you are to be upon this Council."

"Have we a choice?" LaCroix questioned sarcastically. 

"No. This is for the Code. You are Elders, and thus represent vampire 
history. You must be a part of this."

LaCroix laughed then, to himself more than anyone, "I see that the
Enforcers 
have not change so much as this Council idea would suggest," he spoke, to 
the incredulous looks his laughter had invited. 
"I will, of course, be upon this Council. I would have it no other way."

Daniel nodded, not surprised, and yet, relieved still. Enforcer or not, 
LaCroix was still more powerful than Daniel, and thus, forcing him into
this 
would not have been a task Daniel would gladly invite.

Nicholas was frowning, wondering whether he truly wanted to have himself 
tied up in this, undoubtedly messy, process. And yet, he had been in
conflict 
enough with the old Code to know that there were many things he would have
changed, 
in regards to it. He sighed, knowing his decision, hoping that he would not

come to regret it. Still, he spoke. "I agree," even as Janette was speaking

the same words. 

Daniel shook his head, knowing that, order or no, the trio still regarded 
inclusion in the Council as a personal choice. They had agreed, true, but
he 
could not help wondering what it would have happened, had they refused. 

End Part 3

Part 4
~~~~~~~

"They are fools," thought the one who eavesdropped on the small Enforcer, 
Daniel, as he explained the Council that was to be formed. 

"Fools to allow such a travesty to come about, to exist. The 
mortals, we could have ruled them. We had the skills, no matter that the 
minds of the mortal were not strong enough to resist the devastation. We 
could have built them back up under our own rule! At the top we would have 
been, at the top of the world, where we belong. But the possibilities and 
the opportunity went by, and now we are once more creatures of shadow, 
creatures of legend. And the depths we sank to! Right along with our prey! 
It sickens me simply to think about it. But. . .Perhaps it is not too late 
to correct our course. Perhaps it can still be done. . . .

Quickly, the listener withdrew. 
* * * 

"How did you survive?" Janette asked Daniel, later on that day. She had
taken
her rest after Daniel had appeared the first time, but in truth, that had 
not been much. As she tossed and turned, the same question she now asked 
plaguing her, she found little relief from her exhaustion. And so, even as 
Nichola and LaCroix still slept, she had rose, and gone to seek out the
boy. 
Now, they walked down a silent hall, all but lifeless in the day. 

"When I was taken, your enemy made sure that even were he to be destroyed, 
you would never find me. I was sealed in a remote location. I do believe it

would have been the Arctic, above Russia, then. I starved in that place, as

he did not feed me. I believe the only reason he let me live at all was to 
witness my suffering, as you did care for me. I tried every manner of 
attempted escapes, but there was no hope for it. Soon, I started to grow 
heavy limbed and lethargic, my mind more absent. At times, I would grow 
mad with hunger, smashing into walls and everything about me. But I was too

small, and no matter how I thrashed, I remained caught. After several
months, 
my body shut down. I went into the vampiric version of a coma. Years
passed, 
and still I slept. It turned out though, that the Enforcers had been
looking for your enemy--I never knew his name, only that he hated you--that
he had broken a grave matter of the Code some time ago. When the Enforcers
found of his death, they set about to destroy every bit of evidence that he
had ever existed. When they arrived at that fortress, they found me."
Daniel paused for a moment, reflecting, before he continued. 
"At first I hated you, all three of you, but you the most. I blamed you for

it. If it had been a shorter period of time in which I saw you once more, 
I would have hated you still. But the Enforcers saw me as an experiment, 
I suppose. They decided to use me as a spy, of sorts. After all, who would 
expect a child of being an Enforcer? They trained me in their ways, rather 
than return me to the one who had made me. I expect that LaCroix would have

been bored with me at my return, anyway, no matter how you would have felt,

Princess. Soon, the disasters hit, and everyone was dying, anyway. There
was 
no cause for Enforcers, anymore. I did get a few years experience in it, 
though," he grinned, somewhat wryly. 

By that time, they had arrived at the large double doors which opened 
into a sitting room in which dwelt several early rising vampires. Janette, 
contemplative, did not answer the boy, save to simply give an acknowledging

squeeze to his small hand, not willing to talk about it now that they were
in 
the company of others. Daniel smiled up at her, and then turned to skip
into 
the room. 
* * * 


"My, my Nicholas. Drawing at a time like this? Surely there are more 
productive things to be doing," LaCroix spoke in a clipped and faintly 
mocking voice. 

Both male vampires had risen several hours after Janette had. At the
beginning of the night, they had made to discuss Janette's abrupt
resurgence. However, they 
had quickly come to disagree as to what this meant. LaCroix stated that she

would once again stay with them, and Nicholas, though he wanted Janette
to stay as much as LaCroix did, had, in a rare moment of empathy with 
his sister, looking back upon his own fight for independence, stated
that assuming she was staying would simply drive the woman away. An
involved
argument had followed, after which followed a long period of studiously 
ignoring the other, pursuing idle interests in the silence. Nicholas had
eventually 
picked up a quill-like pen and began to sketch out pictures. 

"I could just as easily ask why you are pacing at this time. I'm sure you 
have better things to be doing," Nicholas retorted as he fiercely
concentrated
upon the drawings, which were becoming increasingly abstract. 

"Indeed, I do,' LaCroix sneered, all the contentment he had felt during 
recent events draining away. "I shall leave you here to your oh so 
precious pen and paper, then."

The sound of the door slamming closed echoed with a imperious bang.
Nicholas
exhaled in relief, letting some of the tension leave his body. Using the 
drawings as a meditative focus, the old vampire simply let himself relax, 
not thinking, not wanting to think. He too, was feeling his joy leaving
him, 
and the ominous feelings of impending disaster were returning. He had the 
sense that this was the last time in which he would be able to simply, 
purely indulge in a creative activity, at least for a while. The door
opened then, 
again, and Nicholas jerked his head up.
He knew it was neither LaCroix, nor Janette. This one did not feel of
family, 
he noted, an instant before his eyes met the bright orbs of Lisanne, who's
brightness was not so much composed of humor at the moment, than of anger. 

"I have to talk to you," she announced. 

Nicholas resisted the urge to groan as he carefully put down the pen. It 
seemed that his last moment had ended. 

End Part 4

Part 5
~~~~~~

"Yes?" Nicholas prompted Lisanne.

"There are Enforcers here!" she hissed.

Nick frowned deeply at the girl, and asked, "Enforcers? How do you know
to recognize Enforcers? They were before your time."

"I saw them in Jodie's blood, once," she frowned to herself then, seemingly
falling into contemplation. "I never said anything, but. . ."

"Lisanne?" the older vampire questioned softly when it seemed that the girl
was not going to speak anytime soon.

The golden haired, impishly featured female laughed with a bitterness
entirely uncharacteristic of her. "I've never said anything, but I suppose
you're as good a confessor as any."

Nick's own lips twisted into a bitter knot for the briefest of moments. If
only Lisanne knew the entire story. . . . Mentally shaking himself in
reproach, Nick focused once more upon the girl, who's voice began to speak
once more as she forced the tale from herself.

"I was wounded, once. Well, more than once but this time, it was serious. I
was dying. Jodie was still alive then, of course, and she revived me with
her blood. For a while, it was just blood, though richer than the blood of
any mortal. But, after a few moments, the images began, fragments of the
past. There was death, and birth, and disaster, and there was the image of
a man, a vampire. He had dark hair, and a fierce expression. He was
snarling, threatening. Saying something about how Jodie had not broken the
Code, but the instant the slightest hint of such a thing appeared, he would
be there to kill her. Centuries went by, and there was no more images of he
man, and then there was just me drinking her blood. I think,' Lisanne
paused, 'I think he killed her. I never found out just how Jodie died. I
never knew just what happened. Only a sudden pain, and then Perry showed up
one night."

Nick's eyes were narrowed as he leaned back in his chair, interested, but
skeptical. "Do you have any proof of this?"

"No," she admitted, "But I saw it in her blood."

"Yes, but you saw it only once."

"He could have come back after that incident," she pointed out.

"The Code was long abolished by the time of her death," Nick reminded her.
"But that could work for this supposed Enforcer as well. How did you know
that the image was that of an Enforcer, Lisanne? Or even what an Enforcer
is?"

"She said it. I heard her hiss 'Enforcer' at him."

"The blood is not usually so clear in it's images," Nick frowned.

"I know. But it was this time."

"And how did you know about the Enforcers themselves?" Nick repeated his
question.

"Jodie used to tell stories, about the Old Era. To pass the time, you
know."

Nick did indeed know. The centuries could long, longer still in the times
when civilization had crumbled to dust, and one would talk at times simply
to remind one's self how to.

"So, Jodie may have been killed by an Enforcer," Nick shook his head, and
then, a moment later, sighed deeply. "It was a long time ago, Lisanne. . .
." he trailed off meaningfully, "There nothing to do about it now."

"I know," Lisanne whispered, "But I don't like them, the Enforcers. And I
saw some of them here. I've never seen any in the flesh before now, but I
just know they're here."

Nick sighed, "I know, too."

"What do you mean?" she snapped, suddenly suspicious.

"I know once of them personally, from a long time ago. He was a, well, I
suppose you could say he was my little brother for some time." A Lisanne's
confused look, Nicholas clarified, "One of LaCroix's fledglings."

"And this one is a an Enforcer?"

"I was very surprised to find it. He would seem the last person to become
such a thing, but yes. He is an Enforcer."

"What do they want?" Lisanne demanded.

Nicholas hesitated a moment before he spoke. It had not been forbidden, by
anyone, to speak of this, and yet. . .Still, after what she had told him,
Lisanne deserved to know this, at the least.

"They want to reinstate the Code."
* * *

Thomas Constantine sighed with deep satisfaction as he surveyed his
entourage, his followers, his "family" as it were, created in honor of the
family he once ruled, so very long ago. These vampires before him were
highest members of the organization he headed, mirroring the structure of
the old Mafia businesses. These beings before though were far more
reliable, far more *loyal* than his own, mortal family had been. Not that
he much contemplated his long dead mortal relations, of late. The
bitterness he had once held tightly, secretly in his heart had dulled to
the faintest whisps with the passing of the centuries, long after the death
of his great grandson, who had abandoned the original family. No, he had
life everlasting, and was content with these vampires whom he now
overlooked. But he was not content with his position. Of late, he had felt
a restlessness within himself that had not been there in many centuries. He
wanted more than what he had, he wanted it all. And yet, he did not want
the exceedingly powerful enemies that an attempt to take "everything" would
bring. And so he watched, and waited, always on the look out for an
opening.

End Part 5

Part 6
~~~~~

"This is a prime opportunity, Constantine. It is not too late to seize the
Community, and the mortals are not quiet advanced enough to truly resist
us."

Thomas Constantine frowned upon his visitor, thoughtful, and yet still
tempted. It would be foolish, to be sure, but perhaps unexpected enough to
succeed. 

"The mortals are greatly superstitious, and they have found some means to
resist. Wood is once more a known weapon against "night creatures," he
pointed out nonetheless, as logic reared it's head. 

"They known just enough to destroy themselves," the other vampire snapped
in return. "If we wait any longer, however, they will likely find out more.
The fledglings are so clumsy these days."

"Fledglings have always been clumsy," the former Don noted. 

"Quiet right."

A brooding silence descended upon the room as the two vampires sat,
uncomfortable, but not quiet willing to admit it. 

"It would be best, for the Community. And you would have what you want. .
..."

"How do you know what I *want*," hissed Thomas. 

"I have my sources," the other whispered.

"There are no *sources*," he snapped in reply.

"That is what you think."

Another pause ensued, during which the silence could almost be felt.
Finally, Constantine spoke. 

"I shall consider this. I make no promises, however."

Blandly, "Of course you don't."
* * * 

"I do hope you are enjoying yourself, my dear," LaCroix said to Janette. 

"I have been, more than I expected to when I decided to attend this
gathering," she replied. 

LaCroix studied her marble features with a critical eye. Like all the
ancients, like Nicholas, like LaCroix himself, her skin was the purest
white, seeming to the eye as hard as pure, polished,  stone.
Her beauty was liken to a perfect statue, more hard and lovely than ever
before. But there was a despair in her dark blue eyes that LaCroix caught,
even if it did not register upon her features.

"Something is wrong," he prompted, voice low and neutral. 

"Most of them are so young," she whispered, with a sudden need to speak of
what troubled her, "And even those that are not. . .almost none are as old
as I. You are, perhaps one or two of the  Enforcers, but. . .that is all. I
feel so old, so out of place at times."

LaCroix's eyes snapped, flashing in minute alarm an instant before he
masked the expression. When he spoke, his voice was cold and sure, "You
cannot indulge in these feelings. They will bring you nothing but
stagnation and destruction."

She laughed, a low, charming sound that held, none the less, a note of
bitterness that had not often been there when last he had known her. "I
know this, LaCroix. I know it well."

"I would think so," he answered, irony shadowing his voice, "To have
survived for so long."

"We have, the three of us, survived far longer than we expected. Even you,
you always said we have all the time in the world."

"I never expected to die," LaCroix spoke, calmly. 

"Then why did you count the years?"

"I like to keep track," was the reply. 

"What is the need, when you have forever?" Janette retorted. 

"Let us call it habit."

"Perhaps you never expected to die, but you did not understand forever. I
don't think I did either. Or even that we do now. It is simply too long,"
she sighed. 

"You are unexpectedly morose, my daughter," LaCroix noted. 

"As I said, it has been a long time. A long time since you've known me, a
long time since I realized just how long it had been."

LaCroix frowned deeply to himself as he regarded the female out the
corner of his eye. This was not his Janette, not the Janette he had known.
She was so sober, the lilting French accent had disappeared, the coquettish
gestures gone as well. While there was a self-assurance about her that had been
most lacking before, there was also a muted. . .emptiness. 

"As I said, we cannot dwell upon it. To do so is to become lost in those
years, to invite destruction. You may understand this, but don't allow
yourself to disregard that truth," he had unwittingly slipped into what
Janette had long ago dubbed--to herself of course,--the "lecture voice." 
She had heard it many times, though not nearly as many times as she had
overheard it's direction to Nicholas. Once, that voice alone would have
sent her to any task, not daring to ask a question. But things were so
different now. She had thought to shake the depression that enveloped her
with this reunion, and it had--for a few hours. And what good was that? she
wondered to herself. The weight upon her mind, her spirit was heavy indeed,
weariness overcoming her being. 

"I do understand, LaCroix. But is it enough?"

Her blue eyes held the shining light of sapphires, formed in
the world's darkness, as she stared forward sightlessly. 

'How very apt,' LaCroix mused. 

End Part 6

Part 7
~~~~~

She was seething, he mused as he watched her pace back and forth across the
room, his blue eyes tracking her. Her reaction to the his announcement of
the Enforcers' purpose had been decidedly hostile. She had exploded in
indignation, snarling at the world in general and the Enforcers in
particular, whilst he observed her, not even bothering to speak a calming
word, knowing full well that such a thing would not help. Nicholas himself,
never having been a calm person, was not very adapt at calming, sans
hypnotism, and hypnotizing other vampires was a decidedly difficult and
unpleasant procedure. 

"I won't allow it," she hissed, more to herself than to him, now. 

Without warning, he let out a sharp peal of laughter at this proclamation,
"You won't *allow* the Enforcers their purpose?" he spoke incredulously. 

"I won't," she insisted, ignoring the disbelief in his voice. 

"The you will die."

"They aren't that powerful, and besides--"

"They are that powerful. Some are even older than LaCroix, and all are
imbued with advanced strength and abilities. They were created to police
the Community, to keep the Code, in all of it's forms. When it was broken,
the punishment was, very often, death. They needed to be strong enough to
carry out such a sentence, often upon those resistant to such an end. And
they were powerful enough. You can try, but if you value your life, you
will not try to stop them. And, in this regards, I agree with them. The
mortals are becoming too knowledgeable. We need our front, or barriers,
again."

"You agree with them? You agree that we should just cower in the shadows!?"

"It's what we have always done," Nick asserted quietly. 

Lisanne's face twisted in disgust. "I should have known that you would not
understand. But I thought though, that ,perhaps, you could. This is not the
Age
that you come from! Things are different now, in case you haven't noticed,
and I refuse to hide from mere mortals! No matter what they have done in
the past, they are nothing now! Would you have us flee like cowards!?"

"It is not our world," Nicholas hissed, anger surfacing in his eyes,
flashing sudden, golden fire, "Do not pursue this course, Lisanne. I know
what I am speaking of. It will bring you nothing but disaster. Now get
out," he snarled, suddenly disgusted, not wishing to hear anymore of her
that night.

Shock registered upon the female's face for the briefest of moments, and
then her visage hardened, "Very well, Nicholas," she spoke, her
countrance, usually so bright, now dark with anger and disappointment, as
she turned upon her heel, slamming the door closed behind her. 

The finality in her voice echoed long after she was gone.
* * * 

The boy, small and fragile in her white arms, sighed in delight and
contentment as her lips nuzzled into his neck, exploring with small,
sensual movements, breathing in his scent, earthy, smooth, and so very,
very mortal. So very young, a babe in her arms. . . . A snarl twisted her
face, piercing through the glamour that blanketed the boy's mind, and with
a shocking suddenness, he began to struggle, thrashing with slight,
impotent movements. Anger ignited in her mind, anger against the boy, anger
against her own fate, as she sheathed her razor teeth in his neck, ripping
and tearing in her rage. The lifeless body fell to the floor. 
* * * 

Lucien LaCroix's eyes narrowed as he observed her from the shadows, sensing
the immense anger in her as she mangled the tender young mortal in her
arms. There was something here, something beyond the discontent that had
been evident in her. He shook his head, wondering at it all. Janette had
always been serene, in her own way. Truly, she had known anger, known rage,
yes, but always those were brief fits of temper, after which she would
return to the grace, the smooth elegance, of before. But now, he barely
recognized his Janette in this angry, troubled creature. He had not sensed
it at first, the bond of the ages separated by time and distance, by her
brief return to humanity and re-entrance into vampirism by Nicholas' blood,
by the elation of her initial return. But LaCroix was nothing if not
perceptive, and he had witness the emptiness in her eyes as they had spoken
of the time that had passed in their lives. And so, when Janette had
excused herself to feed from the mortal stock that had been collected for
this gathering, LaCroix has surreptitiously followed her. The violence, the
desperation, in his daughter's eyes, [and despite the fact that he continued
to remind himself that she was not his daughter, had not been for a long,
long time, Janette was still the daughter of his heart,] the moroseness that
blanketed her, spoke volumes of what she was feeling. 
But to reveal himself now would accomplish nothing save to put her on her
guard, against him, and so, he withdrew, melting back in the shadows from
whence he came. 
For now. 
* * * 

Janette pushed the body away in a single, angry motion, snarling in
reproach to herself. This was hardly the time to loose control of her
senses. There must be some pretense kept, after all, she thought to herself
sardonically.  It was somehow unbelievable that she had come to this. She
wondered at what point it had been that everything had all started to fall
down. Some would say it would be when she had returned to mortality for
that brief time, and then, brought back across against her wishes. But had
she truly wanted to die then, she would have, and she grudgingly
acknowledged this to herself. After that time, however, she had separated
herself from her family, had isolated herself from the Community, trying to
recover her sense of self. Soon after, the Apocalypse had hit, and the
Community had fallen apart. She had survived almost entirely on her own for
more centuries than she could count. Occasionally, she took companions, but
most of them died, and those that did not, inevitably moved on. Unknowing
to herself, a bitterness had grown in her heart, a shield against those
that would use her, or those she suspected would. There was a time in which
she refused to associate with anyone, a time in which she withdrew so far
into herself that she was barely recognizable. And even when, slowly, she
began to emerge, it was cautiously, sill keeping her difference. And now,
she had arrived at this gathering, reunited with her family, and she
wondered whether she was doing the right thing. She wondered whether she
should have come at all. 
* * * 

He was pondering the offer, pacing up and down the suite in which he was
situated. This was the chance he had been looking for, and to have the
backing of such a one as had made the offer. . .!
But, there were those here who may be able to decern his plans. When one
reached a certain age, a vampire's innate physic powers began to develop
themselves far beyond any previous level. For some, they became so strong
that such vampires built walls so thick, not even they could usually break
through. Those that did not take such measures went insane with the
millions upon millions of thoughts spilling into their minds. . . .Well,
that was it, wasn't it? Any who would have the power to reach into the mind
of Thomas Constantine would not break down their own walls to do so, for
the sake of their sanity. And those that did not keep such walls, and held
such power. . . .Well, those would be far too gone to matter. 

Nodding to himself, the Don prepared to inform the Enforcer, Welya, of his
agreement to her offer. 

End Part 7

Part 8
~~~~~~

"It is ludicrous! We have the right to our freedom! We should not have to
cower in the shadows! Be the monster under the beds of mortal children! We
are free creatures, superior life forms!" Lisanne hissed to the others in
the sitting room, who were glancing at each other in a mixture of unease,
and agreement.

"You should not speak of such things, if the Enforcers are truly coming
back," spoke up another, a vampire of some five hundred years who appeared
as a slight young mortal man, with sandy brown hair and lime green eyes. He
had been weaned upon legends of the Enforcers through the blood of his
master, who had similar legends passed on to him, and so it went.

"Why not?" Lisanne demanded, "Why shouldn't we? Because they'll kill us?
Well, they can only kill so many, and then there will be no one but a few
left, and they cannot afford to so diminish our race! We should speak up,
and more than that. We should act. We should move against these so-called
Enforcers! And who is to say that they are truly Enforcers at all, rather
than a group of pretenders moving to take power for themselves. The
Enforcers are myths."

"How do you know that, though? What if they are real?!" retorted the
doubter, voice quiet, as he gathered his courage, speaking out against this
vampire who seemed ancient to him.

"The we fight them. We fight them, no matter who they are, and keep our
freedom."

The male moved to protest once more, alarmed by this talk, but others were
joining in now, agreeing with Lisanne, and his voice was over road by his
companions. Lisanne directed a derisive glance at the young male, who shook
his head, jumping to his feet, as he said, "I'll have no part of this
talk."

He walked out of the room to a chorus of derisive sneers.
* * *

'My, my," thought the Enforcer as she observed the incident. "This female
is outspoken, and it seems that there was only one in the room with any
common sense. I hope this ratio does not extend to the rest of the
Community."

Welya shrugged as she contemplated it, thinking to herself that this could
be a good thing, after all.
Perhaps she should contact Lisanne, and offer her support to this little
movement. The girl, of course, did not need to know of Welya's Enforcer
status. Things would work much better that way, after all.
* * *

Nicholas was dreaming. The images paraded through his mind almost faster
than his sleep-awareness could keep up with them. And then--time halted.
There was but a shiver in the mind of a vampire--

* * * The grove was dark, leaves overhead, and the vampire, a much younger
Nicholas, was watching the moon. He had been here all night, he knew,
tracking the course of the celestial body across the skies. The fresh scent
of wild roses tickled his nostrils. There was something. . .but he could
remember. The moon. The moon was important because it showed the course of
a lifetime every night, and had for longer than humanity could remember.
Suddenly, there were flowers showering down on him, midnight roses, and
LaCroix was standing in the corner of the grove, face up turned, catching
the petals on the sculpted plains of his patrician face. Nicholas reached
out to touch the petals, fascinated, but LaCroix jerked back, grabbing at
the velvet flowers, scowling at his son. Nicholas drew back, hurt by the
rejection, and yet, still fascinated. His fingers touched the lovely
petals, which erupted without warning into flames, spreading with
quicksilver
speed onto his own hands and face, and arms and legs, burning with pain.
Nicholas looked over at LaCroix, who was regarding him with anger,
disappointment, and sorrow---

And then there was another, a vampire younger than Nicholas, whom Nicholas
watched, helpless from somewhere, as she started to hold out her hands to
touch the petals, and so many others, vampires, foolishly believing in the
outward beauty of the roses, moved forward to their own destruction.* * *
* * *

Nicholas awoke with a sharp start, blue eyes wide with irrational
fear for the barest moment, and then he closed those orbs once more,
gathering in deep breaths to calm himself.
'What a strange, horrible dream,' he mused at he stood up from the chair he
had fallen asleep in.
'Or was it so strange? Something. . .something about it seems too familiar.
. . .'

But he could not think of what that may be, and so, after musing
fruitlessly for some minutes over the dream, the old vampire simply shook
his head and stood to his feet, running slender fingers through his long
blonde hair as he did.

Without warning, something which, more than anything, warned him of the
danger of whomever it was outside, the door to his room was knocked upon.
Frowning, he called out,

"Who is it?"

A long silence stretched out, and was finally filled with the words,
dropped flatly and ominously,

"Come to the door."

Nicholas scowled with displeasure at the tone, calling once more, "Who is
it?" this time with more force.

A slow growl answered, and the door to the room was smashed in. The
vampire's
face contorted in anger, and Nicholas bared his fangs at the intruders. A
moment later, he blinked. Three tall male vampires with huge white fangs,
blazing crimson eyes, and very unhappy expressions stood in front of him.
Despite the fact that he had seen Daniel, the reality of the Enforcers
presence had not really registered with him before this moment. Daniel,
after all, was not a typical Enforcer, which was, after all, the very
point.
But these three vampires in front of him most certainly were what one
thought of when one contemplated Enforcers.

"What do you want?" Nicholas questioned with greater caution that first he
had spoken with.

The oldest of the tree Enforcers, obviously the leader of the trio,
narrowed his eyes at the golden haired man, and said in his gravely voice,
"The vampires that the Council will be composed of are gathering. Your
presence, Nicholas de Brabant,  is requested."

End Part 8

Part 9
~~~~~~

The room was large, cavernous, more natural than any other section within
the structure the vampires resided in. Like a cave, it was: pale, washed
out stone, constructed naturally, over ages far longer than even the eldest
of these beings could boast. The ceiling, however, had been retooled to the
aesthetic senses of someone, cut into a diamond pattern which admitted the
light of the moon and stars into the chamber. 

'All very lovely in itself,' contemplated LaCroix sourly, 'But hardly
practical in the eventuality of rain, snow, and other such events. Not to
mention that daily *miracle* known as the sunrise.' The ancient master
sighed. 'Artists can so flighty.' 

Should this Council idea work out in the long run, it had been decided that
this building would be the permenate "headquarters," as it were, of that
organization. However, that was getting a bit ahead of themselves. LaCroix
mentally shook his head, and turned his contemplation's outward, examining
the faces--both familiar and not so familiar--that were seated about the
round table. 

'Round table,' LaCroix noted absently. 'Someone certainly has a well
developed sense of irony. Though few would understand the humor now.'

Running his eyes about, LaCroix took a tally. Nicholas was there, of
course, looking rather irritated, a fact that LaCroix suspected had less to
do with the situation itself, than with the three brute Enforcers who had
escorted LaCroix's son to the room. Janette was sitting between Nicholas
and LaCroix, looking lovely, but distracted. To Nicholas' right was a male
vampire of some one thousand years, who looked extremely uncomfortable.
LaCroix searched his memory, trying to recall the name of this one. Ah,
yes: Ruar. LaCroix was none too fond of vampires from the time this one
originated from. The humans had still been half-fey then, still struggling
to build even the barest semblance of a civilization, and though they were
stable enough to be brought across, they made for rather crass companions. 
To the side of Ruar sat a small, crimson haired female called Yet, who
represented the youngest generation of vampires, those who were aged
between one hundred years old, to very newly made. This century had been
very much unchanged from the end of the last, and those vampires made in
this time frame were the proverbial "problem children," tending to disdain
the company of the older vampires, even more so than the older vampires
disdained them. It was very much a matter of mutual contempt, but they
would not go unrepresented. To the right of Yet sat a vampire, female, but
tomboyish, her brown hair cut very short, her clothes the plain tunic and
trousers of a man. Obviously, she was no fashion plate. This one was older
than Ruar, ringing in at seventeen hundred years, and wholly unpleasant.
LaCroix could see the merit of the brute in times of trouble, as her
instincts would lead her to the quickest reaction, and possible solution,
but to have the uncouth woman on this Council. . . he grimaced in abject
distaste, and moved his eyes to the empty seat beside that one. Who was to
sit there, he wondered? Next to the empty seat was the seat in which a
leading Enforcer, male, green eyed, and called Huer. Next to him sat the
slight figure of the former Don, Thomas Constantine, though LaCroix
understood that Constantine still had his followers address him to the
title, which was long meaningless.
Just then, the three Enforcers who guarded the main doors parted, admitting
the golden haired figure of the girl-vampire, Lisanne. As she headed to,
and sat in, the empty seat at the table, LaCroix inwardly scowled. So, the
worthless girl was to be a part of this, was she?

'We shall see. . . .' LaCroix contemplated with an inward grimace. He had
never liked her, and the feeling extended far beyond the matter of her
distasteful pet--not to mention the fact that said pet was also the girl's
grandsire. He considered her entirely too flighty, and despite the fact
that she had always seemed cheerful and good natured, LaCroix had always
sensed that there was something more to her, something secret and as of yet
unfathomable. Taking stock of her dark, determined expression, he wondered
if the time to uncover that secret was now nearing. 

No sooner had he thought this than the doors opened, and in entered the
last member of the Council, a young, insolent Enforcer called Des, who
seated himself with an arrogant flourish. Inwardly, LaCroix sneered at the
boy's dramatics. 

Huer,  who seemed more--communicable--than most Enforcers demonstrated
themselves as in public, stood, and swept his gaze over the table, meeting
the eyes of each vampire, in turn, who silently answered with their own
gazes, either nervous, or impatient, anticipatory, or stoic. 

"I will not say I call this meeting to order. Things are not nearly formal
enough for that, as of yet. Should this become more permenate, perhaps
rituals will develop, in time. For now, you'll have to make due with
informality. As most of you know, this is about the reestablishment of the
Code. Most of you, however, are not nearly old enough to know just *what*
you're reestablishing, though.
The Code was more than just rules to keep mortals unaware of us. The Code
was the law system of our Community, the rules by which we kept our peace,
and it was the system by which we preserved our long time traditions. Those
of you who know of the Code have an idea of what I am speaking. Those of
you who were around to *experience* the Code, know exactly what we are here
to do. As with all law systems, there are those who will break it, and
those who will resent certain aspects. This is inevitable. This does not
mean, however, that you have permission to do any of these things. That is
what *rules* are all about: obeying them. And traditions are meant to be
cherished. However, as many of you are no doubt thinking to yourselves this
very moment, times are different now than when last the Code was in effect.
This is why we do not simply order it once more upon the Community. It
needs to be revised, retooled to this time. For this task, we have
established a group of beings diverse enough to meet the challenge. Ancient
Elders, and inexperienced younglings, and many in between," gesturing, Huer
noted the names of each vampire, in turn, ending with himself.
There were looks of many emotions exchanged about the table, and Yet,
though holding the contempt for Elders which characterized her generation,
looked nothing less than terrified by the mighty presences which were
seated at the table, beings who could crush her with barely a thought.
LaCroix, noting this, shook his head inwardly, struck by the sudden,
inexplicable thought that he could not remember being that young--he had
the memories, yes, but he could not remember what it felt like. But barely
ninety years old the girl was, fresh from mortality, her skin nearly as
flushed and pink as a human's. 

Lisanne, LaCroix noted, was staring at Huer as though at a particularly
puzzling and loathsome creature. Looking like that at an Enforcer,
especially one of Huer's power, was hardly good for one's health. LaCroix's
eyes narrowed, however, in the first outward reaction he had shown since he
had entered this chamber, when Huer's eyes opened hugely for the barest
moment when he noticed Lisanne's scrutiny, perhaps really noticing the girl
for the first time. 

'Well now, this is interesting,' thought LaCroix. 

Huer recovered quickly, however, and went on with his speech. 

"The first order of business is, of course, detailing for those that do not
know, just what the old Code entailed."

LaCroix settled back in his chair, noting that Nicholas and Janette were
doing the same, all three expecting quite a long recital. Perhaps something
would happen to alleviate the boredom which would eventually take over,
LaCroix mused absently. Not a moment after the thought crossed his mind,
Lisanne's eyes opened so wide, they seemed as though they would fall from
her skull, and she jumped to her feet, screaming at the Enforcer, Huer;

"I knew I recognized you! You--You killed my master!"

End Part 9

Part 10
~~~~~~~

Huer's eyebrows drew down in a deep frown as he narrowed his eyes at
Lisanne. 

"I killed your master? Just who was that?" he demanded. 

"Jodie," the female hissed. 

Huer, seemingly curious a moment before, shook his head now. 

"I thought you looked familiar," he noted, almost absently, "That matter
was personal. But you, you have no right to be making accusations of
murder."

"She was my master," Lisanne objected, "I've every right to make such
accusations."

"Not when you could have helped her--and did not."

Lisanne stood, almost dumbfounded for a moment before she snarled in
return, "I would have done anything for her--"

"Including plot her death?" Huer interrupted. 

"How dare you!" Lisanne flared. 

"I speak nothing but the truth. She knew. In that last moment, as she
called out to you for aid, you projected feelings of urgency, but they were
clumsy, false attempts. Any vampire could have sensed it, little girl. You
betrayed her as surely as though you had staked her and took her head as
your prize. I had every right to kill her, as I bested her in challenge.
That is part of the Code. But what you did was betrayal, pure and simple. I
remember you, now."

LaCroix's eyebrows went up at this revelation, eyes darkening in disgust.
Scowls went along the table. These vampires, no matter the times they
originated from, all held similar feelings toward these revelations. Even
LaCroix and Nicholas, who had both made moves to destroy their masters,
Nicholas staking LaCroix, and LaCroix beheading Divia, were angered at the
devious, cowardly manner in which Lisanne had went about in the destruction
of her master. 

"I don't think," Huer announced with deadly softness, "You are welcome on
this council any longer."

Lisanne, frozen in shock at the sudden unearthing of her secret, when her
announcement had been intended to wound the position of the Enforcers, was
dumbfounded by her sudden dismissal. 

"Very well," she finally hissed, before casting a final glance around the
table, as though to assure that they remember her. LaCroix frowned deeply
at the girl as she left, sure that such a prophecy would be correct. He had
never trusted her, but he trusted her far less now, than ever. 
* * * 

Nicholas shook his head as the girl departed, saddened by the loss of a
friend, for he knew their friendship was over. She would never believe that
she was welcome any longer, and indeed, Nicholas could not deny the disgust
he felt for her cowardice. He wondered, though, just what her final look
meant. Lisanne could be a very determined individual, and Nicholas took the
definite feeling that she would not allow her abrupt dismissal to
go--unrewarded. 

At his side, Janette sighed wearily. She no longer held any tolerance for
intrigue and scandal, and she could see that was exactly what this incident
would make itself out to be. 

Huer, turning back to the round table, recaptured the eyes of the council
minus one, and spoke as though the incident had never occurred, 

"The earliest issue of the Code was created more than nine thousand years
ago, during a period in which rampant wars took place amongst ourselves. It
was determined then, by a group concerned with our survival, that no
vampire should kill another without the direct formality of personal
challenge. A vampire must defeat another in their own physical presence.
This is a law that should always be obeyed,"  and though he did not say it,
they all knew he was speaking of Lisanne.
* * * 

The girl stalked along the halls, anger bubbling through her. She had never
thought her secret would be discovered. Never, and yet it was unearthed
with but a few words, in but less than a single minute of time. And who
knew but how long the consequences would last. A betrayal. Indeed, it had
been, but she had hated Jodie, hated her for choosing her to last the
length and breadth of eternity. Time was so very, very long, and yet, Jodie
seemed to enjoy living for such a long stretch of time. But Lisanne could
not stand it, and it was not for the reason of taking life to live, or any
such nonsense. It was the feeling of aloneness in the face of forever, the
feeling that no matter how long she lived, she could not make a dent in
time. Humans did not have to face this, for they lived so shortly, and
could not comprehend even a sliver of eternity. But for a vampire, with
every century that went by, you began to comprehend just how much longer
there was to go. 
Lisanne, though, did not have the courage to face the sunlight's wrath, to
put an end to her own eternity, and so she determined to take her revenge
for being forced to live. The Enforcer, though, ah, the Enforcer had ended
her problem. Contrary to what she had told Nicholas, Lisanne had never seen
an Enforcer in Jodie's blood. She had seen the Enforcer face to face, when
he had challenged Jodie, when Jodie had hissed out the title of the being
that had faced her.  Lisanne had conveniently disappeared during the fight,
counting on the chaos of the forest they were in at the time, and the
flurry of the fight, to conceal her. When Jodie had called out to her,
Lisanne had pushed false feelings of urgency through the bond, hoping her
maker would think she was trying to reach her, because, in the end, she
just couldn't stand the thought of Jodie knowing what had happened.
Apparently, though, before she died, Jodie had. And she had forgiven. For
whatever reason, Jodie had forgiven her daughter, as she had sent Perry to
Lisanne when she knew the battle was lost. And Perry, dazed from the blows
he had received from Huer in trying defend Jodie, had went to Lisanne's
side, not wanting to leave Jodie, but obeying, none the less. 

Lisanne clenched her eyes shut at the thought, fighting back tears--of rage
or sorrow, she knew not which. It just didn't make sense! For one blinding
moment, she hated Perry for his ignorance, for the fact that he simply did
not understand why Jodie was gone. Perhaps if Lisanne had truly went to
Jodie's aid, they would all be dead, at the hands of the Enforcer, but she
would have tried--No! Jodie deserved to die. No matter the reasons she had
died, she had deserved it. 

Lisanne slammed the door closed when she reached her suite, wondering just
how many vampires would know of this, soon. The young ones would talk, of
that there was no doubt, and as for the old ones, well, they would talk
amongst themselves as well. She would be made a pariah. She laughed, then,
hating the world, before she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder, and she
spun around with a curse, coming face to face with an unfamiliar female
vampire. 

"I can help you with your troubles," the other promised. 

"What do you know of them?" she hissed in return, even as her heart sunk at
the manifestation of her fears. Already, others knew. 

"Plenty. And I want them to go away," Welya said, with a smile. 

End Part 10

Part 11
~~~~~~

The young vampire, years amounting to but barely three centuries, entered
the room cautiously, glancing about with a mixture of nervousness and
eagerness. Standing by a window, gazing out into the moonlight, stood a
still, seemingly frail form, fragile in the shadows of forever that the
moon and stars foretold. 

"Excuse me, Elder?" the younger man inquired tentatively.

"Hello, Janson. Sit," the older vampire gestured to the lounging chair
which sat against the far wall. 

Quietly, the younger vampire seated himself, waiting, working to hold in
his impatience. After some minutes, words broke the silence. 

"I wonder, sometimes, why I bother. Why I strive for this, for rightness or
power, or holding loyalties. Sometimes, I think it is more than it is
worth. And then I think that I mustn't think like that, that such thoughts
lead to destruction. But perhaps it is my time. Perhaps it was long ago,"
the Elder mused absently, still staring out the window. 

Janson, shocked, nearly gasped aloud, words rushing from him then, 

"You mustn't say such things, sir! We need you. No one else seems to have
the courage to stand up to these Enforcers. When I heard they were around,
I didn't believe in them, and when I was finally convinced, I was disgusted
that they could just return after all this time, and think they could take
command!"

"You think so, boy? And just where did they come from, hmm? They were never
gone. They were waiting, waiting for the time when they would once again be
necessary. And their agents were also amongst us, from the lowest the
highest. Who knows but that you may be aquatinted with one of those, or
perhaps one is even someone you think you truly know. Perhaps a lover, a
sibling, even your dearest friend. There is no way of knowing, until they
reveal themselves, or are revealed."

Grimacing at this line of thought, the younger shook his head, hesitating,
wondering at his own daring, and yet, forcing himself to go on. 

"We need you sir. For this very reason. When your. . .agent. . .approached
me, I was relieved, and overjoyed, that someone dared to stand up to this!"

A long pause ensued, in which Janson waited anxiously, waiting to see if
his words had any effect. 

"You are right, boy. Just this once, you are right."

Janson smiled, trying not to think about what "Just this once" could mean
for him. 
* * * 

"So Thomas Constantine is your front?" Lisanne inquired. 

"Yes," Welya said, "After all, I cannot have my associates knowing that I
am openly rebelling against the Code, abolished as it is. This attempt at
"democracy" will not work. It cannot. Too many strong wills and stubborn
minds, arguing against the ideas of the other. Disaster will be the only
result. And that is where we come in. Thomas Constantine and his children, 
and doubtless anyone else he manages to snatch up for this, will stir the
pot, and throw everything into confusion. That is where we come in. When
things are in a satisfactory state of chaos, we, that is I, you, and
several skilled others I have called to me, will descend upon the
gathering, and take power for ourselves."

"It is a daring plan. You will be opposed."

"Incorrect. We will be opposed. But we will overcome the opposition, and
emerge to triumph."

Lisanne, licking her lips, half in anticipation, half in nervousness,
certainly hoped so. 
* * * 

The rough clad, tomboyish woman lunged forward in her seat, scowling at the
rest of the make-shift Council. 

"No, we need freedom! There must be some leeway in such rules!  It is
madness."

"You have not seen the heights of what humanity is capable of. They are all
too clever, and we cannot afford to be detected," Huer said coldly, in
reply. 

"What? We make one rule, and the smother ourselves in thousands? There is
no need for it! We have killed in droves, and never been discovered," the
female, called Gew, protested. 

"We have been detected," Nicholas cut in. "What of the rumors of night
creatures, who drain the life's essence from the bodies of mortals? It
certainly sounds as though we have been detected."

"That isn't taken very seriously."

"No, but it will be," Nicholas said flatly. 

"They are highly superstitious. True, we have not been discovered in whole,
but if we keep on in this manner, we will be. What is ordered is not for
you all to cut your own throats, simply to practice a bit of discretion,"
LaCroix said, a sneer edging his words as he said this, speaking to Gew as
though to a mortal child. 

"Exactly," Huer said, nodding in agreement. "All corpses must be disposed
of in such a manner that they appear to have died from mortal causes.
Mutilation, or the removal of parts bearing bite marks is acceptable, as
well. Burning the corpse is more tedious, and rather troublesome, but it is
the surest way to go undetected. Weighing down the body and submerging it
in water works as well. Make sure that you are not seen during a kill,
unless you intend to kill the witness, as well."

"Common sense, it seems," LaCroix noted wryly, "Is once again in demand."

A number of glares were shot with furtive speed in the Ancient's direction,
but none dared comment in return, save for Huer, who had not much to fear
from LaCroix at the moment. 

"Indeed," that self same Enforcer chuckled. 

End Part 11

Part 12
~~~~~~~

The man was kneeling over the drained corpse, blood flowing deliciously
through him as he smiled down at the mortal remnant which had held this
intoxicating elixir. With a low chuckle, he stood to his feet. 

Delicious

It was to be his last thought. A gasp was ripped from his in the moment the
stake penetrated his heart. A moment more and the blade removed his head. 
* * * 

"He was feeding," Nicholas said, "Just finished. Whomever did this took him
by surprise," his voice was crisp and professional in it's report as he
knelt over the decapitated body, but there was a note of worry in his
posture. This was trouble. The vampire who had been killed was well known,
just into his nine hundredth year, popular amongst the younger vampires.
Perhaps this had been done to stir them up. But any reasoning to this was
hollow. Whomever had done it had to be staying in the building, and that
was dangerous indeed for the killer, amongst so many who may possibly
strive for vengeance. As a rule, vampires did tend to be very determined
creatures. This could well turn into a hunt amongst themselves, which could
stir up chaos. Nicholas shook his head and look at LaCroix, who was looking
impassively, yet thoughtfully at the body. Upon sensing his son's gaze, his
eyes slid over to the other, implications in their depths. Obviously,
LaCroix had come to the same conclusions. 

The body had been found when another of the younger vampires had come to
feed. Upon a general basis, the younger ones tended to avoid the Elders,
feeding and socializing in separate groups and areas, and thus the corpse
had been exclaimed upon by the woman who had found it, the woman who just
happened to be the dead vampire's consort. Word had spread quickly. 

"I wonder. . .there has been opposition to reestablishment of the Code.
Could this have been done in retaliation?" Nicholas wondered aloud, almost
to himself. 

None the less, LaCroix answered, "Even were that the truth, it would hardly
hinder the Enforcers. The murder of one of our kind is regrettable, but
murder is an inevitable occurrence amongst any people. It will not stop or
stall the process."

"True. But not everyone will think like that."

"I did not say they would. I have heard rumors, Nicholas. There is indeed
discord in the air. Perhaps this is connected. You seem concerned."

"Of course I'm concerned," Nick snapped irritably. "This could bring
disaster down upon us."

"I know," LaCroix mused, somewhat gleefully. Upon catching Nicholas' glare,
he chuckled minutely. 
"You must allow me my amusements, Nicholas. Consider--things have been
somewhat. . .dull. . .of late."

A long moment went by in which Nick's lips thinned to white lines under the
ice blue eyes which regarded him. 

"You knew that something of this sort would happen as well as I did," he
spoke then, a faint accusation in his voice. 

"Not exactly this, but yes. Life has become rather monotonous of late, and
I suspected that this gathering could bring an enjoyment with it."

"Those opposed to bringing back the Code may very well start a war, and you
are worried about having *fun,*" the younger vampire demanded
incredulously. In truth, he knew well this aspect of his master's
character. It had, after all, been demonstrated to him upon a great many
occasions, but it had been a while, and he had grown disused to it. There
was another aspect to consider, as well. Upon most of those occasions, the
target of these "pranks" were far more often than not, mortals. To do this
to their own kind, however. . . .

"You would target hundreds of our own for a laugh?" he demanded. 

"Nicholas, I hardly *targeted* our own. I am simply observing the
proceedings. I did nothing to provoke the situation."

"You are on the Council," Nicholas said. 

"As are you. And that was an order from the ever so lenient Enforcers, was
it not? There was no choice in the matter."

"You would have provoked it had there not been trouble there to begin
with," Nicholas continued grimly.

"What I would have done is really of no consequence. Perhaps you should
like to find the killer. It might be a nostalgic experience for you,"
LaCroix said, and walked away. 

Nicholas scowled down at the body. A nostalgic experience. He had indeed
worked at solving murders, as a career, several times throughout his
history. He shifted then in thought. Perhaps. . .LaCroix had meant it as a
flippant comment, but upon second thought, the idea did indeed appeal to
him. It seemed that peaceful co-existence with LaCroix was to be put upon
hold for the time being, what with the revelation of his father's "striving
for amusements" but that by no means meant that there was nothing he
himself may do to fill the time, and perhaps he could bring justice to the
dead vampire, and hold down impending disaster. 
A smile twitched the corners of his lips. He was decided. 
It felt good to have a purpose again.

End Part 12

Part 13
~~~~~~

The next body had turned up three days after. After some questions, Nicholas found that the vampire, it was a woman this time, shared a great many characteristics with the first victim. Young, popular, and supportive of the reestatement of the Code. He grimaced over the body, thinking on the pattern that was emerging. Only two victims, thus far, but the pattern was very apparent. The method of execution, as well, was quick, but the manner in which it had been carried out was designed to deliver maximum amounts of pain in the last moments the victims had spent upon the Earth. Suddenly, something caught his eye. A scrap, of something. Probing with his fingers, Nicholas lifted up the scrap of material upon the folds of the body's coat sleeve. A tiny strip of silk. Pale blue silk. He nodded his head. The killer had been most careful. This was the first clue. 
He decided he had best make good use of it.
* * * 

LaCroix sighed irritably as the Enforcer droned on. Never before had he seen any Enforcer in such a light. In his time--in his time! It was still his time!--Enforcers were intimidation means, the ultimate threat against crime within the Community. Carrying on a debate in regards to Law and Order, however, did tend to put them in a somewhat more bland light. No doubt they would retake their intimidation places once this was over with, as well as making the reforging of the Code seema grand and glorious process, at least to those that had not been a part of said process, but this was tiresome. The entertainment he had ruminated about to Nicholas did not seem to be manifesting itself in any significan manner, and Nicholas was turning a blind eye to his existance. Janette was being unpleasantly morose, wrapped up in her own thoughts when she was not reminising with Daniel. 
The Enforcer eyed LaCroix with annoyance, noticing his wandering attention, made a sharp gesture. LaCroix sneered. 
* * * 

Nicholas whirled about in sudden alarm. There was something there, in the room with him. But there was nothing to see. Still, he knew it with a grim certainty. There was something there. 
A hand shot up with lightening speed, gripping the vampire by the back of his shoulder length hair. 
A voice hissed in his ear, "Found something have we, hmm, "detective?"

His body stiffened for a single moment, and then he twisted around, ripping out of the woman's--it was a woman--grip, loosing a painful handful of hair in the process. Turning, he snarled. 

"Did you murder them?"

"No."

"You lie," Nicholas hissed. 

"Why should I lie? Why should I kill them when others can do it for me?" she smiled, laughed, and lunged forward, ripping at him, pulling him to the ground, and gazing down at him in annoyance. 

"You make things uncomfortable. Poking your nose in where it doesn't belong. Ah well, just another victim. No one here to kill for me now, though. I suppose LaCroix will have to do without his precious Nicholas from here on in, hmm?" the woman snarled, and dove for his throat. Nicholas hands were tearing at her chest, reaching to rip through the skin, tearing away flesh in layers. Howls of pain tore through the room. 
* * * 

LaCroix looked up in shock as pain ripped into his senses. Something was very wrong. Without a word, he lept to his feet. Janette was not here today. She had gone off with Daniel again, and thus LaCroix did not know whether she had felt it as well. But it was coming from Nicholas. Of that there was no doubt. 
* * * 

Welya spat her words as they fought, tooth and nail. "The Code will not work this time. It is far, far too late for law and order, De Brabant. I think we need to take control, to assert ourselves. Others agree with me."

"So that was it," Nicholas said, and freed one hand enough to wrap it about her neck, and tear there are the flesh. Welya lunged again, and ripped her fangs through the flesh of his throat. Nicholas screamed in pain. A pale hand suddenly appeared behind the woman, latching on to her shoulder, pulling her back wards. A sudden blur flew threw the air, knocking the hand away. LaCroix's hand, Nick knew, catching a sudden glimpse of pale blue eyes. 
* * * 

Lisanne had entered the room to find it devestated. The body that Constantine's lackey, Janson, had killed, lay beheaded and heartless upon the floor, and Nicholas and the Enforcer, Welya, scrabbled about, doing their best to kill one another. 
She slipped into the shadows, watching as LaCroix speed in, a pale blur, moving to rip the woman away from Nicholas. With a sudden inward scream, Lisanne launched herself forward at the master vampire. Enough of his greater status, enough of his power. She would not let them win!
Her nails tore at him viciously. 
* * * 

LaCroix turned with a roar of rage, ripping at the girl, the vicious, worthless fool. Smashing her up against the wall, he dove forward, and tore out her throat. A twist of the hand removed her head from her neck. The shock in her blue eyes was quiet pathetic.
* * * 

Welya screamed as Nicholas's hand punched through her chest in a sudden burst of vicious strength. Her heart came out, bloody and pulpy, in his hand.
* * *

Janette entered the room as the Enforcer's body dropped to the floor, eyes moving from her father to her brother, and she smiled. 

"Are you quiet finished?" she inquired. 

"Finished?" LaCroix inquired somewhat blandly. 

"This is not a game," Nicholas growled irritably. 

"I know it is not, Nichola. But sometimes, you both make it seem so. You keep me alive, with your antics," she laughed then, merrily, the happiest look to have graced her face since her return plastered on her features, smiling at them both. Even LaCroix looked bewildered. 

Janette laughed again. They would never understand the allure of simply watching their interplay. Perhaps it was best.

Epliogue
~~~~~~~~

Don Thomas Constantine sat across the table from Lucien LaCroix, glancing down at the carved game piece the older vampire toyed with. LaCroix smiled dangerously. 

"I trust that you shall not involve yourself in such. . .plots. . .against the Community's stability in the future," LaCroix stated. 

The Don nodded, thinking of the recent completion of the permenate outline for the New Code, the tightening in the Community since the plots had been revealed, and most of all, of the danger in this man before him,  and spoke, "No more," wondering all the while how LaCroix had uncovered his personal involvement.

"I thought not," the master vampire spoke,  ice blue eyes revealing nothing, and his enigmatic half-smile showing even less. 

FIN