Interactive Entertainment by Imajiru imajiru@mindspring.com imajiru@unicorn-x.net August 19, 1995 The hunger ravaged him, a cold ache gnawing at his insides. It had been growing in ferocity for days: the days in which he had been imprisoned in this steel cell. A vampire could indeed starve to death, if deprived of blood for too long -- it was a lingering death, an agonizing death, torturous beyond measure. If this was LaCroix's vengeance, it was indeed a thorough one. He shivered, clutched at his stomach, which howled a message of pain through his central nervous system. Worse: without the nourishment of blood to fuel his vampiric body, every cell in his body seemed to be screaming. Yet, somehow, he clenched his jaw shut on the cry of pain that fought to emerge. He would not give LaCroix the satisfaction... But then he scented the first traces of blood on the air. Blood. Human blood. A trap door in the wall moved sideways, and the form of an unconscious woman was unceremoniously shoved inside. The ravenous vampire sprang at it, unthinking, undeterred by his own horror; he was *starving*, he had no choice. And then he caught a glimpse of her face. Nick recoiled. "Nat..." She was very still, very pale. Her body had already been half-drained of blood, as evidenced by the gashes at her wrists; there was not even enough left to assuage his hunger. But the scent of it was so strong, so *strong*... But this was Natalie. He flung himself into the farthest corner of his cell, huddled there, whimpering involuntarily. He could not give in to his hunger, would not... Five hours later, there was not enough left of his reason to stop him. He awoke, knowing what he had done. Misery curled through him, heavy and acrid. //I've killed Natalie. Killed her.// And he cursed the vampire, the treacherous immortal murderer inside him: he had been determined that he would starve to death before he would allow such a thing. The vampire within him had not permitted him to die, of course. He lived, and wished that he was dead. The cell door opened; wearily, he raised his head. "LaCroix..." he began, before the silhouetted figure in the door was even visible. His captor took another step inside, and Nick flinched in sudden shock. "You thought you killed me, didn't you?" the man said, pleasantly. "You thought I was gone for good. But you were wrong, Nick. Dead wrong." Not LaCroix. Richard Lambert. "You managed to hurt me, though," he said conversationally. "It took me a long time to recover. I figured... I owed you a little something for that." "Nat..." Nick stared at Richard in uncomprehending horror. "What did you do to Nat? Your own *sister*!" The man's handsome face hardened. "She betrayed me," he said emotionlessly. "For *you*. And so she got what she wanted. You." A vicious smile passed fleetingly across his face. "To the death." Nick was off the floor and at Richard's throat before he was even aware of what he was doing; awareness only intensified his rage. Weakened as he was, though, Richard was able to deflect the attack easily. "I'm finished with you," he said dispassionately. "I needed to avenge what you and Nat did to me, in order to get rid of my anger. Now that it's done, you won't see me again." "You'll see me again," Nick murmured, a threat and a promise. "I'll come after you..." "You'd be wise not to." Richard smiled. "Besides, my revenge isn't quite finished yet." "No?" his captive said warily. "Oh, no. Now, you get to live with the consequences of what you've done to Nat. For the rest of your life." A mocking lift of his eyebrow. "Goodbye, Nick. See you next millennium." And then he was gone. Alone in his cell, Nick buried his face in his hands and moaned. ------- Richard Lambert strolled down the hall, whistling. He had not felt so good in ages. The white-hot fury that had burned at him for the last years was dissipating, as the final stages of his plan unfolded. There were only a few last lingering details to be dealt with, and it would all be over. He would be free, to get on with his immortal life as he chose. His fingers played over a touchpad, tapping in a code; the door to the other cell opened, and he stepped inside. "Well, he's all yours," he said, to the cell's occupant. Natalie Lambert raised her head to stare at her brother. Her pale face was streaked with tears, but her eyes were bright gold with fury. "I could kill you," she said, and meant it. "I hope you won't try. You're far too weak. I've kept you that way deliberately. I really don't want to hurt you, Nat." There was genuine affection in his voice, and distant regret. "Fine way you have of showing it!" she retorted angrily, fresh crimson tears springing to her incandescent eyes. "Look at it this way: you've got what you wanted. Your beloved Nick, for the rest of eternity. Or at least... until he decides you deserve to die." Bitterness crept into his voice. "No pity, no mercy, no *help*, not from either of you. He fed me cow's blood and kept me at the edge of starvation, then blamed me for the insanity that came from my hunger! No doubt, he'll do the same thing to you." Now Richard's eyes burned with intensity. "Don't let him, Nat. Drink human blood: nothing else will keep you healthy and sane. You and I, we're too young for the kind of regimen he keeps... mark my words; it'll be the death of you, if you don't. *He'll* be the death of you." Nat bit her lip, hard, narrowly avoiding piercing it with her new fangs. "Richie, why?" she moaned. "I wanted him to know what hunger can make even a good man do," Richard said softly. "And I wanted you to know the helplessness I felt, when I realized you'd both turned against me." She was startled by the tears that filled his eyes. "I did what I had to do, Nat! I couldn't *not* do it and continue to survive." He drew a deep, shaky breath. "Maybe sometime, centuries from now, you'll understand, and forgive me for this. Maybe sometime in the future, we can be brother and sister again..." "Richie, you're still my little brother," Natalie said evenly. "But I will *always* hate you for this." He nodded, and seemed to close in on himself, withdrawing inside a hard shell. "The cell doors are set to open automatically," he said, "two hours after I depart. You'll have thirty minutes until sunrise; that's just long enough for you to get safely home, if you hurry. Don't waste your time trying to find me -- I've gone to some lengths to make that impossible." A brief look of sadness came over his face, and was gone just as quickly. "Goodbye, Nat. Take care of yourself, huh?" "Go to hell," Natalie whispered. Again, Richard nodded, turned on his heel and exited; the cell door shut firmly behind him. ------- Some time later, the door slid open; she rushed outside and went searching for Nick. She met him coming down the corridor from the opposite direction -- his pale face whitened even further with shock when he saw her. His mouth opened, but no sound came out... "Nick," she moaned, and all but collapsed into his arms. For long moments, they clung to each other tightly. "You're alive," Nick murmured into her ear. "I didn't kill you!" Her breath caught in her throat. "Not alive," she managed to choke out. "I'm... like you, now." He drew back, just enough to gaze into her eyes. "*You're not dead*," he whispered. "You're here, with me..." and kissed her, hard. In the first moment, she understood why he'd never dared allow himself the luxury before; she could feel his desire for her, withheld so long that it threatened to overcome his reason. But now, his passion could not harm her... ...but this was neither the time, nor the place. With an effort, he tore himself away from her. "We have to get out of here," Nick said, in a ragged voice. "We do," she agreed, and together they began searching for the way out. ------- "You needn't count it -- it's all there." "Oh, I believe you." Richard kept right on counting the bills. "You've done quite a good job," commented his companion. "I didn't do it for you." Natalie's brother finished his task, packed the bundles of money away in the briefcase. "I did it for my own reasons; you know that." "How convenient, then, that our goals happened to coincide." "Convenient and profitable," Richie agreed. "Especially for me." "For me as well." One pale hand indicated Richard's briefcase. "This is a small sum to pay for a long-term investment of such value. Tell me: what will you do with your new fortune?" Richard shrugged. "My mortal family will want for nothing," he said, "though they'll never know why. Best that I never see them again." "Wise choice," the other nodded. "As for the rest... I'm sure I'll find something interesting to do with it." For an instant, Richie's eyes held a feral gleam. "It *is* enough, I assume?" "You've been most generous. In a number of ways." The voice grew serious. "You saved my life. I would have died without your assistance." "Yes, you would have." Now the feral brightness shone in the other's eyes. "If I can ever repay the favor..." Richard went on. His companion's grin broadened. "Oh, I'll certainly contact you." "I'm sure you will." Briefcase in hand, Richie left, trying not to hurry visibly. The other man's sharklike smile lingered for some time after his departure. ------- They made it to Nick's place not five minutes before sunrise; once inside, he snatched up his remote on his way to the refrigerator, for his hunger was fiercer than ever. To his credit, the first bottle he fished out, he tossed in Nat's direction, a high, fast, arcing throw that would have smashed it on impact had she not snatched it out of the air with instinctive vampiric dexterity. The metal shutters descended, sealing them in; hardly aware of it, Natalie gulped down the bottled cow's blood. After the taste of the human blood Richard had given her, it was flat, unsatisfying -- and she realized suddenly the truth of what her brother had told her. "Richie said," she ventured uncertainly, "that the reason he was so... so crazed at the end was because he was hungry. He said that the cow's blood wasn't enough." "And you believed him?" Nick scowled. "I've survived on cow's blood for a century." //But you're eight hundred years older than Richie and me,// Nat thought, //eight hundred years stronger. And you're *always* hungry, Nick; you told me yourself...// This was not, she determined, the right time to argue about it. He passed her another bottle when she'd finished the first, and she downed that, too. Eventually, the ravenous thirst abated -- enough for Natalie to consider other forms of hunger. Desires that had lain dormant for three years, unacknowledged, repressed; desires that for the first time could be expressed. She set the empty wine bottle aside and moved toward him, and it seemed that he was having the same thought, for he met her halfway. ------- The day passed with extraordinary swiftness. ------- Nat awakened in Nick's bed with his arms wrapped around her, so tightly that if she'd physically needed to breathe, she would have had trouble... It was a warm, cozy sensation, even if the warmth existed only in her mind. Other sensations, however, were far less pleasant. He woke up while she was dressing, watched her with a wary eye. "Nat?" he queried. "I'm going out," she said. "Nat..." In his face, she could see his fear: that she would be Richie all over again, that she would place him in the same untenable position. "I'll be fine, Nick," Nat hurried to reassure him. "I'm not going to kill anything while I'm gone!" He flinched at the very suggestion. "You'd be surprised," he ventured. "The... urge can be very strong." //I wouldn't be surprised at all,// Natalie thought grimly. "I'll be fine," she said again. "And I'll be back soon, I promise." And she rushed from the bedroom, before he could object, or stop her. ------- It was the last place she wanted to be -- and the only place she could go. She had no choice; she couldn't afford not to go. Nat hadn't wanted to become a vampire... but now that she *was* one, she was in no hurry for that immortal life to end. For one thing, it gave her substantially more time to find a cure -- for another, it gave her the chance to truly *be* with the man she'd loved for years. Besides, she had a score to settle with her brother... someday. Not right now: she had other things than revenge on her mind at the moment. She moved through the crowd as if she'd always belonged there, made her way to the bar and leaned against it. Janette caught sight of her, drifted over -- stopped after a few paces to study her more closely: the dark eyes widened, and her steps grew quicker. "So," and the French-accented syllable held veiled hostility, "he's finally done it." Nat shook her head. "Not Nick," she said; it seemed important that Janette know the truth. "My brother, Richard." "Ah, yes." A faint trace of humor emerged. "As usual, Nicolas’ mistakes have come back to haunt him." "As usual," Nat agreed amicably. Suspicion flickered across the aristocratic features. "Why are you here?" Janette said pointedly. "Shouldn't you be with your Knight in shining armor?" The coroner faced the vampire -- the *other* vampire, she corrected herself. "I'm hungry," Nat replied. "I need... something." She was prepared for laughter, for scorn, for outright rejection -- but not for the small, understanding smile that spread across Janette's lips. "Something decent, you mean," she said, and reached for a bottle. It was all Nat could do not to snatch it from her hand, to force herself to wait patiently while Janette poured the 'rare vintage' into a glass. "I imagine Nicola didn't react favorably to your hunger." "I didn't exactly force the issue. It... wasn't really a good time for an argument," said Nat hesitantly. Again, Janette's genuine mirth startled her: she'd expected jealousy. "Perceptive of you. Nicolas tends to sulk, and he's not much fun when he's sulking," the other commented, and handed Natalie the glass. Nat drained it in a draught, passed it back for a refill; Janette obliged without comment. She sipped at her second drink more calmly, stared into its crimson depths for a moment before deciding to be honest. "I don't want to be dependent on Nick," Natalie said, softly but firmly. Slender eyebrows raised; Janette nodded. "I don't want to have to rely on him for sustenance," she elaborated, "and I don't want to rely on my job, either -- and I especially don't want to kill anyone." "Another ethical vampire," Janette mused. "Can our society stand the strain?" "It'll have to," said Nat, "because I have no intention of dying young." Her eyes met her companion's squarely. "I could use your help." "You certainly could," Janette agreed. "But whyever should I give it to you?" "We're not rivals," Natalie asserted. "We never were." "Weren't we?" "You know we weren't." Nat shook her head. "You've been with him for over seven hundred years, and I'm human... or at least, I was. Now that I'm not..." Sadness filled her. "If I asked him, he'd tell me it won't make a difference in how he feels about me." "And he'd be lying," Janette said bluntly, not without sympathy. "Yes," Nat murmured. For a long moment, there was silence. "Refill?" "Of course." "He won't like this," said Janette, as she filled Natalie's glass. "No, he won't." Nat considered. "If he finds out..." "He'll know. Trust me." Janette tilted her head sideways inquisitively. "What are you going to tell him?" Nat's lips firmed in an obstinate expression. "I'm going to tell him it's none of his damned business," she said. "He *really* won't like that." "No, he won't -- but he'd better get used to it." Janette regarded the younger vampire almost fondly. "I like your style," she said appreciatively. "All right, Doctor Natalie. What is it you want from me?" Nat shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "It's only been two nights -- I haven't even begun to accept that this has really happened to me." She stared down at her hands, rendered pale by her new 'condition'. "I don't know how I'm going to deal with this," she said, almost to herself. "And Nicolas can't handle it." It wasn't a question. "He couldn't handle Richie," Nat whispered. A second later, she was startled out of her reverie by a strong slender hand on her arm. "All right," said Janette. "I'll help you." Their eyes met. "You will?" Nat said. "I will," the other woman confirmed. "Why?" "Because you're going to *need* it, that's why." Janette topped off Natalie's glass, filled one for herself; she raised her goblet in a toast. "To Nicolas," she said, "fair as sunlight, and every bit as dangerous. To love him is to stand in the heart of the fire. May we both survive the flame." The sardonic tone seemed entirely appropriate to Natalie; she clinked her glass against Janette's and drank deeply, feeling her body's delight in the lush taste of the human blood. ------- He had been involved in a round of long-distance computer chess with an 'old friend' across the ocean, but recent events had conspired to play havoc with his game; after an ignominious defeat, he set aside the keyboard and let himself fall into a reverie. There was, after all, so much to think about. Janette had needed an ally. Nicholas had needed a challenge. And he... he had needed a diversion, something with which to occupy his time. Fate had conspired to fulfill all of those needs quite neatly. His children... surely, Richard could now be included among their number: Nicholas might have brought that one over, but he had brought Richard back from immortal death. The old bond was broken, a new one forged. Richard -- unlike Nicholas, who'd been quite content with his killer's nature for centuries before his tiresome obsession with mortality had surfaced, Richard had begun his existence as a man of high morals and conscience. It would be interesting to see how the years would transform that one. It was entirely possible that within a few decades, Richard might evolve into a worthwhile companion. In the meantime, there were plenty of other interesting things to do. Natalie was a thoroughly modern woman, strong and forceful and bold. As a vampire, she would be stronger still. Nicholas had historically had difficulty with strong women -- yet he believed he loved Natalie. How would he resolve the dichotomy? Janette had long been queen of her world; now, here was Natalie, challenging her right to the throne. Would they truly become allies? or would they end up as bitter enemies? or some delightful combination of the two? Nicholas had his ideas, about humanity and morality, about loyalty and betrayal. What would happen when Natalie began to assert her own ideas? And at what point would Nicholas decide that Richard needed to be repaid for his 'crimes' against them? //This is,// LaCroix mused, //infinitely more diverting than computer chess.// A wolfish grin crossed his face. //Vengeance is, after all, interactive entertainment of the best sort.// He sipped from a crystal goblet, and began to plan his next move of the game. --- end ---