From: "Tim Phillips" <Timp@dec.anr.state.vt.us> 
To: FKarchiver@fkfanfic.com 
Date: Wed, 20 Oct 1999 09:49:44 -0500 

The copywrite on this story is mine, but I give 
permission to archive/post it with
other fan fiction so long as no fee for viewing 
it is charged.

The copywrites held for the 
characters/situations borrowed for this story 
are held
by other people and should be respected as such.

Comment/feedback is welcome at 
timp@dec.anr.state.vt.us


 The Lady Of The Knight
 Episode 1: A New Beginning
 
  The Names are the Same.
  The Circumstances are Not.
  Consider this a replacement for DARK KNIGHT 
(the series premiere)

MONDAY June 12th  2:22 a.m.

     The 1962 Cadillac pulled up and double-
parked on the street beside the Raven; in the 
pandemonium of the moment, no one seemed to 
notice.
     Detective Nicholas Knight pushed open the 
door to the convertible and stepped out
warily.
     In the distance, he could hear approaching 
sirens.
     Shortly, there would be many officers on 
the scene, but Nicholas had to face the next few 
minutes alone.
     Knight left his pistol holstered, but he 
did unbutton his black leather duster so he 
could clear the firearm quickly if he needed it. 
 He then deliberately folded the wide bat-wing 
collar down so it didn't obscure his peripheral 
vision.
     A knot of excited people were milling 
around the opening to a dark alley that ran 
alongside the Raven.  Knight moved toward that 
gathering.  His adrenaline was up - there was no 
such thing as a "routine" call to a homicide 
scene - but intellectually he knew the greatest 
danger was from the public to the evidence at 
the scene, not from someone to him.
     Knight didn't bother to identify himself.  
He merely said "excuse me" and shouldered people 
aside until he was in the alley and at the front 
of the crowd.
     One glance showed that the description 
called in was correct and that the arriving 
ambulance crew would have little to do.
     Knight had lost track of the bodies he'd 
seen.  This one, however, was unique.  A man 
lying on his side, curled around a varnished 
wooden stake driven clean through the torso to 
protrude through the chest and back.  Knight 
looked deeper into the shadows of the alley  It 
was empty.  There was no immediate danger here.  
Just a homicide to be solved.
     He was jostled from behind by someone and 
ignored it.  Public curiosity was a fact of 
life.  People were keeping their distance from 
the body.  In a few minutes, uniformed officers 
would be present.  They'd have an easier time 
establishing order than Nick would in
plain-clothes.  Knight squatted beside the body 
and pulled a flash-light from his jacket pocket. 
 He flicked the light on and a strong hand 
grabbed his shoulder.
      The man who had grabbed his shoulder bent 
down.  "Whoa.  Don't touch.  This is a murder 
scene. The police are coming now."
     Knight looked up at the man and flicked his 
badge-wallet out and put the flash-light on it.  
The gold of his shield gleamed cleanly in the 
night.  "I am the police," Nick said.   The man 
glanced at the badge and took his hand from 
Knight's shoulder.  "Sorry," he said.
     Knight shook it off.  "No problem.  You 
were doing the right thing.  Did you see 
anything?"
     The man shook his head.  "No.  Not that 
matters.  Just heard there was a body in the 
alley,"  he smiled weakly, embarrassed by his 
own weakness for spectacle.
     Nick nodded.  "OK.  Just stand back a bit."
     Knight turned back to the body.  He wasn't 
a forensics specialist and he wouldn't touch 
anything to preserve the scene, but he could 
look.  And this was weird enough to engage his 
curiosity.
     He'd never heard of someone being murdered 
in Toronto with a wooden stake.  Beaten to death 
with a frozen chicken, yes, but staked like a 
movie vampire no.  This was Nicholas's first 
shift on nights.  And a hell of a weird first 
homicide scene.
     The victim was a man.  Solid shoulders and 
build.  He looked in his fifties with creases 
still visible in the slack face and silver at 
the temples.  He was dressed very well.  A high-
quality tailored suit in dark blue with a slate 
grey vest.   The buttons of the vest were 
unfastened and under it was something that added 
to the unusual aspects of this scene.  A four-
inch wide leather belt that circled the body at 
the lower rib line.  The belt had loops, 
suspending polished wooden stakes - that look 
suspiciously like the one driven through the 
body.  Nick flicked the pool of light thrown by 
his flash-light around and spotted a framing 
hammer.  The long handle and heavy head gave a 
person the ability to drive thick framing nails 
with only a couple of blows.
     So what had happened here?  Suicide 
definitely was out.  But, how had someone held 
what looked like a physically fit man down long 
enough to drive a stake clean through his body?  
Injected him with a drug of some form?
     And then it registered with Nick that there 
was very little blood.  He rocked back on his 
heels.  The stake was punched through the upper 
left side of the chest.  It should have hit a 
lung or the heart or a major artery somewhere.  
There should be a pool of blood on the ground.  
There was blood on the stake, but very few drops 
on the ground.  And, there was blood on the 
starched white collar.
     Nick leaned closer and found two pucture 
marks on the side of the throat.  The marks 
weren't from a hypodermic needle; they were too 
big.  It looked like some had  driven a pencil 
twice into the man's throat.  Blood was tracked 
along the skin from the marks to disappear under 
the cloth covering the shoulder.
     Sirens were pulling up in front of the 
Raven.  There were the familiar sounds of the 
Metro Police establishing their authority and 
clearing people out of the area so they could do 
their jobs.
     Nick stood and stuck the flashlight in his 
pocket.
     He'd requested a transfer to the night-
shift because he wanted a change in his life.  
If this is what happened on the first night, 
what would the end of the week bring?

MONDAY June 12th  2:35 a.m.
     There were places in Toronto that Nicholas 
thought of as lower.
     Places where the earth stretched under your 
feet and you sank downwards into the city's 
fabric.  Sometimes, the fabric tore and people 
disappeared into Toronto never to be seen again. 
 
     As you walked deeper into the Raven, you 
sank further toward the bowels of the city.
     There was Hunger hiding in the nightclub 
twilight.
     An active caution blurring toward fear was 
in Nicholas's stomach as he walked back into the 
Raven, moving between dancing couples as he 
sought the club's rear wall.
     No one was overtly hostile.  No threats.  
No taunts.  Just men and women in an alcohol and 
sex lubricated confusion of music and night-club 
lighting.  There was nothing to overtly cause 
fear.  But something in this club had always 
rubbed against Nicholas's instincts.
     He was on edge, but he had long years or 
experience as a Metro cop doing things that the 
animal mind was afraid of.
     Nicholas was going between two tables set 
near one of the roof pillars when a young woman 
in a typical Raven black outfit took his arm.  
"Hi, handsome, don't brush by."  Her face was 
seductive hungry.  It troubled Nicholas that he 
wasn't certain exactly what she was hungry for.
     Her companion - another young woman - 
recognized Nicholas and put her hand on the 
first woman's shoulder.  "Don't trouble him.  He 
is LaCroix's painter."
     The first woman rose to her feet.  She had 
to tilt her head back to look upward into 
Nicholas's face.  "Are you really the painter of 
The Moon," she asked with a voice now intrigued 
rather than hungry.
     "Yes."
     The woman removed her hand.
     "Stop by before you leave," she offered and 
resumed her seat.
     Nicholas nodded and continued.

     At the back of the club, sitting at the 
wide bar, Nicholas found who he sought.
     LaCroix and Janette.  
     Sitting, as normal, before Nicholas's own 
painting - a portrait of the moon almost six 
feet square.  It loomed above the back of the 
bar, full and ancient.
     It was Nicholas's first commissioned work.
     When he had accepted the commission, 
Nicholas had voiced doubts to LaCroix about how 
good a painting it would be.  Here, in the 
Raven, Nicholas was struck himself by the power 
of his own work.
     "The Moon" was dominant, looming in an 
expanse of black wall prepared expressly for it. 
 It had been the first time Nicholas had used a 
luminescent paint - at LaCroix's insistence.  
Subdued side-lighting waxed and waned to charge 
the luminescent aspect of the paint.
     At this moment, the side-lighting was off.
     "The Moon" glowed with a pure white hue 
around the dark pits of the lunar seas.
     A harvest moon, deep in the Fall, awaiting 
Winter's mindless approach.
     The moon loomed over Laqouix and Janette, 
as if to fall down upon their heads.
     Both Janette and LaCroix stood as Nicholas 
stopped before them.
     "Nicholas," LaCroix purred out.  "It's been 
so long."  He offered a cool, pale, bony hand.  
LaCroix was dressed in raven black.  There was 
an predatory aura about him: self-confidence, 
power and a contempt for those lesser than 
himself.
     Janette wore a black, richly texture 
evening gown with the ever present plunging 
neckline, complimented by a black ribbon choker. 
 Janette leaned in so close she touched 
Nicholas' arm with her soft breasts and kissed 
Nicholas on the cheek.  She leaned back and
gestured at the bar with a fluid hand.  
"Something to drink?"  Her voice had a smokey 
lilt that was seduction.  Nicholas felt the 
familiar sexual surge, when in Janette's 
presence.  But, the mental images were wrong.  
He didn't visualize her body moving; her face 
working in excitement or effort. Instead, she 
glided in and out of shadows; eyes penetrating 
and controlling, and Hungry.
     Nicholas shook his head.  "No.  Thank you.  
Unfortunately, I am here on official police 
business.  I am the chief investigating officer 
of the homicide in the alley."
     LaCroix sipped from an elegant goblet of 
red wine he held.
     Janette said nothing, just waited, idly 
playing with her own glass of wine, standing 
closer to Nicholas than she had to in the space 
LaCroix seemed to keep open around them.
     "I'm letting you know as a courtesy that we 
need to talk with everyone on your staff that 
may have been in that alley tonight, and we 
might need help identifying customers who've 
been in tonight."
     LaCroix eyes were very sharp and his voice 
taunting.  "And we should tell you anything we 
know .... before you find it first?" 
     Nicholas exhaled.  He reminded himself that 
many club owners looked upon a police presence 
around their business as deliberately 
threatening.  "I don't suspect anyone yet, I 
just barely got here.  But, yes.  It would look 
far better for your business and yourselves
personally if you tell me about anything you 
think might be connected to this."
     "Nicholas," Janette responded.  "You know 
this club operates legally."  She glanced at 
LaCroix.  "I have no wish to scare away my 
clients.  I will make sure you are helped, if you
make sure that you are appropriately discrete."
     It was a standard offer.
     "Deal," Nicholas said easily.  
     Janette smiled and Laqoix shook his head in 
a gesture of mild annoyance.
     "There is nothing here, Nicholas," LaCroix 
said.  "You are looking for nuggets in an empty 
mine.  The first anyone here knew about that 
killing was when the door-man found the body."
     Nicholas lifted an eyebrow.  "You seem very 
sure of that."
     LaCroix turned to look Nicholas directly in 
the face.
     "Yes, I am.   But, I can see that you will 
have to prove that truth to yourself.  So ask 
your questions and conduct your investigation, 
as you must.  In the end, you will see that I am 
right.
     LaCroix smiled a superior smile and drifted 
away through the crowd toward the Raven's back 
rooms.
     Janette put a soothing hand on Nicholas' 
arm and leaned so her lips were closer to 
Nicholas' ear.
     "Please don't be offended by LaCroix.  He 
is having family difficulties."
     Nicholas was surprised.  "LaCroix has 
family?"
     Janette tilted her head to the side a 
little, showing Nicholas a new angle.  "We all 
have families, Nicholas.  Of one form or the 
other.  And all families have their problems."
     Janette swirled her wine and sipped from 
the glass, lowering the crystal goblet to draw 
attention to the cleavage her low-cut dress 
exposed.  She spoke with her lips still rose 
from the wine.  "Now," she said, "what can I do 
for you?"

MONDAY June 12th  2:50 a.m.

     Nick Night leaned against the door of his 
Cadillac and sipped a thermos cup of iced 
coffee.  It was home-brewed.  French Vanilla 
beans ground that afternoon.  A combination of 
sugar, cream and caffeine guaranteed to keep you 
moving.  Nick had slipped a spare thermos into
the Caddy this evening.  The last thing he 
wanted was to be less than sharp his first night 
working for a new boss.
     The Toronto police machine was humming 
along in its customary fashion, smoothly.
     Uniformed officers had secured the murder 
scene and were canvassing for witnesses, taking 
statements as necessary.  
     Captain Stonetree - the night homicide 
commander - would normally have come out into 
the field to see a murder scene this unusual.  
Tonight, however, Stonetree was caught in a 
budget planning session and the call came down 
that Nick was in charge of the scene.  
     That meant Nick had to handle coordinating 
things; basically stand around and waiting for 
people to arrive who needed to be involved.
     When a white minivan with a discrete 
FORENSICS along the door pulled up, the last and 
potentially most important people were present.  
     Nick set the top of his thermos-bottle on 
the dash of his Caddy and moved toward the 
FORENSICS van. 
     The sliding rear door opened and a woman 
stepped down, the night coalescing around her.
     Alabaster white skin with long flowing 
reddish brown hair past her shoulders.  
Graceful, efficient movement.  Wearing tan 
slacks and jacket, a white silk scarf wrapped 
around her throat.
     She looked at Nick and her eyes went wide 
with recognition.  She opened her soft red lips 
to speak, then caught herself and looked 
confused.  Recovering her composure, she held 
out her hand.  "I am Natalie Lambert, Medical 
Examiner's office."
     Nick found his tongue. "Detective Nicholas 
Knight, Metro Homicide."
        He clasped her hand gently.  It was cool but 
soft and there was no wedding ring.    
     "You're new on the night shift?" Lambert 
asked with certainty.
     Nicholas nodded.  "I just moved from days."
     Natalie smiled, flashing white teeth.  "For 
a moment, I thought you were someone I knew.  
Almost made a fool of myself."
     "I would think that would be difficult to 
do," Nicholas said.
     Lambert accepted the compliment with a 
smile.  "This is Marcus White and Evie Tacker," 
she introduced the other people from the van.  
"Where is the victim?"
     Nick gestured to the alley.  "This way."  
He lead Natalie past a bored uniformed officer 
into the alley while the two forensics 
specialists gathered up equipment from the van's 
cargo area.
     Natalie had her own small light.  She 
flicked it on and played the beam over the body, 
tracing the stake with the light.  "Well, that 
was fatal if nothing else was," she commented 
and removed a Dictaphone from her pocket.  She 
gracefully settled her bottom on her heels and 
started listing the body's appearance.
      Nick could have waited beside the Caddy, 
but instead he stood just out of Natalie's way, 
listening to her confident tones.  
     The two forensics specialists hustled into 
the alley.  They carried large electric lanterns 
that were almost flood-lights in power.  With 
these, the alley was brightly illuminated in 
pools, with deep shadows where the lights didn't 
reach.
     Natalie had delicately opened the victim's 
vest with a hand encased in a surgeon's glove. 
"Did you see these stakes?" she asked the dark 
shadow that was Nick.
     He stepped forward and settled beside her.  
"Yes, but not as well, I didn't want to disturb 
any evidence."
     Natalie shook her head.  "How strange."  
She picked up a limp, oddly-shaped hand and 
showed it to Nick.  "He didn't die easy.  Most 
of the bones in his hand are broken."
     "I can not believe he just stood there and 
let someone pound a stake through his chest," 
Nick noted.
     "Probably true," Natalie said.
     "What about the lack of blood?" Nick asked. 
  "Shouldn't there be more from a stake through 
the chest?"
     Natalie glanced over at him with approving 
eyes.  "Not necessarily.  A lot of the bleeding 
would be internal.  Once the heart stopped 
beating, there wouldn't be any pressure to force 
blood out the wounds past the stake itself.  I'm 
sure I'll find a sizable pool inside the chest 
cavity somewhere."
     The forensics people were sweeping up along 
the alley with the big lights, leaving Nick and 
Natalie in the twilight created by the street-
lamps.
     "Did you notice the throat-wounds?" Nick 
asked.
     "Yes," Natalie said and waited.
     "Any idea what caused them?"
     "Hmm," Natalie considered.  "I'd suspect an 
ice-pick or something similar from the size. 
When I get a chance to examine the wounds in 
good lighting and with the proper tools, I 
should have a better idea."
     A camera flashed at their backs.
     Nick stood up quickly and blinked into 
another flash.  Natalie gasped and put a hand 
across her eyes.
     Press reporters stood at the entrance to 
the alley, photographing around the officer 
standing there.
     Nick sighed and glanced at Natalie, who was 
blinking rapidly.  "Time to earn my paycheck."
     "Better you than me," Natalie said, 
appraising Nick as he started walking toward the 
photographers, confident, balanced and 
attractive.

MONDAY June 12th  5:15 a.m.

     Nicholas leaned against the doorjam to 
Captain Stonetree's office.  "We don't have a 
lot of leads on this one.  The door-bouncer at 
the Raven said that a "young blond woman" told 
him there was a body and to call the police.  
Whoever she was, she didn't stick around.  
Everyone we talked with said that they heard 
there was a body and they went outside to see 
it.  
     "There was no ID on the body.  We're going 
to have to run the finger-prints through the 
Index.
     "The Medical Examiner's office is giving 
this one a high priority."
     Captain Stonetree's chair creaked under his 
body weight as he leaned forward and held up a 
thick finger to pause Nick.  "Who did they send?"
     "Natalie Lambert."
     The Captain nodded, pleased.  "Good.  She's 
very good at her job.   She's good at these 
weird cases.       Seems to have a sixth-sense 
about finger-print locations and causes of 
death.  If she tells you something, trust it," 
he ordered.
     Nick nodded.  "OK, I'll keep that in mind."
     Stonetree looked at his watch and shook his 
head.  "Let me make a quick call."  He reached 
for his phone and hit one of the speed-dial 
buttons.  "Hello, this is Captain Stonetree, is 
Doctor Lambert available for a moment? .... 
Fine, I'll hold."
     The Captain flicked his eyes at Nicholas.  
"Sorry. Need to catch her before the doctor 
leaves for the night."
     He tucked his head back down to the phone.  
"Good evening, Natalie.  This is Stonetree.  
There was a homicide tonight, a man with a stake 
through the chest....are you handing the 
examination yourself?     Okay, then.  Could you 
take a look yourself?  We don't have much to go 
on this case ... Ummhmm.   Well, I could ask for 
more, but I'll take that as good enough.  Thank 
you, Doctor."
     The Captain hung-up gently.
     "Natalie will take a quick look before she 
leaves.  If she finds anything, the earliest she 
can do anything substantial is tomorrow night."
     Nick lifted an eyebrow.  "I didn't think we 
were that busy tonight," he pointed out.
     Stonetree shook his head.  "We weren't, but 
sun-rise is at 5:55 today."
     He saw the puzzlement on Nick's face and 
realized that he had made a rare slip in
assuming things were known.  "Sorry.  I've known 
Natalie long enough that it is as much a part of 
her as her eye color.
     "Unlike you or me, Natalie Lambert HAS to 
work the night-shift.  She suffers from a rare 
skin disorder.  Her skin and eyes are incredibly 
vulnerable to sunlight.  The good doctor only 
arrives after sundown and always leaves well 
before sunrise.  She's stayed a few times later 
to handle real emergencies.  Always, she's ended 
up having to stay the day in the morgue were 
there are no windows."
     "Interesting," Nicholas said, intrigued 
with the personal knowledge.
     The Captain hadn't gotten to be head of 
Metro Homicide by missing small details.  He 
caught the nuances Nicholas put on the one word 
he spoke.  "That information should be handled 
with care, Detective.  Doctor Lambert doesn't 
hide her condition, but she also
doesn't spread it around or expect much sympathy 
from it.  Treat it with the same respect you 
would show if she had cancer in remission and 
don't expect her to be about in the day."
     Nicholas nodded.  "I understand."  He 
deliberately adjusted his voice and stance to 
convey that he took the Captain's warning about 
guarding Natalie's privacy and professionalism 
seriously.
     The Captain leaned back in his chair and 
interlaced his fingers behind his head.
     "Now.  Back to the case at hand.  Anything 
else of interest?"
     Nick nodded.  "It looks like the killing 
was done elsewhere and the body dropped in that 
alley, which would explain why no one heard 
anything."
     "Why?"
     "No blood anywhere in the alley except a 
little bit right under the body.  Guy was staked 
through the chest.  Should have been blood  all 
over the place.  FORENSICS found only a few 
drops right around the body itself.  No blood 
trail in, no sign in the area.  I think it 
points to a separate crime-scene somewhere."
     "Gonna be tough to find," the Captain 
stated.  "But, you might be right.  Let's wait 
for the forensic report first.  If there is a 
lot of missing blood, we'll put out a patrol-
bulletin and hope someone finds the scene for 
us."
     "Won't be worth much after time, but I have 
no other ideas to offer," Nick said.
     "Definitely an unusual first case," the 
Captain observed.
     "I had assumed that most of the cases on 
nights are not this obtuse."
     "Fortunately, no.  They usually are pretty 
obvious and more pitiful."
     And, on that depressing note, Nicholas 
understood the meeting to be over and left the
Captain's office.

MONDAY June 12th  6:10 a.m.
     
     Nicholas Knight closed the folder on his 
latest murder investigation and leaned back in 
his desk-chair.  The folder was depressingly 
thin.
     Not much to show for his first night's work.
     Some nights were like that.  Nicholas had 
left good officers on the day shift with cases 
that he couldn't solve, ones that he doubted 
ever would be solved.  Despite the best efforts, 
some people in Toronto DID get away with murder.
     An officer could give himself ulcers with 
obsession about that very fact.
     Nicholas glanced at his watch and decided 
it was time to start working for himself instead 
of Toronto.  He picked up the desk-phone and 
called down to the Morgue.
     He recognized the voice that answered.  
"Good morning, Rob, it's Nick.  Got a moment?"
     Doctor Robert Turner worked for the Medical 
Examiner's for the day-shift.  An acquaintance 
of Nick's worthy of some trust.
     "Sure, Nick.  What's up?"
     "There is a doctor on the evening shift.  
Natalie Lambert.  Know her?"
     "Sure, very proficient, couple of people on 
staff swear she can see finger-prints with the 
naked eye."
     "That would be the woman," Nick confirmed.  
"What do you know about her personally?"
     There was a moment's silence.  
"Interested?" Robert said.
     It was being nosy, but Nick understood the 
rules, Quid Pro Quo.  If he acknowledged his 
interest, Robert would give him more precise 
information.  In time, Robert might spill this 
personal information to someone else, but it 
would take a while.
     "Yes," Nicholas admitted.
     Robert sounded satisfied that he had 
obtained this confession.  "Well, I can tell you 
a little bit.  Natalie is pretty closed-mouth 
about her personal life.  She IS single.  Has a 
cat named Sydney that she dotes on.  I think she 
has family here in Toronto, but she doesn't talk 
much about them.  She likes movies a lot.  She 
is on some really weird liquid diet for health 
reasons."
     "What's her taste in music?"
     "Don't know.  The person to really ask is 
Grace.  She's a forensic assistant that works 
with Natalie a lot.  They seem to spend time 
chatting.  But, Grace will probably be 
protective.  Most females are of their friends."
     Nicholas smiled, knowing Robert was also 
grinning.  Men were as predictable in their 
behavior as women were.
     "Want me to talk with Grace?" Robert asked.
     Nicholas shook his head.  "No, thanks.  I 
can do it myself.  I just didn't want to 
embarrass her and me, if she was married or had 
a significant other."
     "The way should be clear," Robert said.  
"Anything else?"
     "No, I think that does it, thanks."
     "Good luck," Robert offered before he hung 
up.
     Nicholas put the phone down and considered.
     There were many ways to announce your 
interest.  Nicholas considered Natalie a classy 
lady.  He couldn't deny the pull he'd felt when 
first meeting her.  This wasn't something he 
wanted to make a mess out of up front.
     He had yet to find a woman who disliked 
receiving a bouquet of roses.
     Nicholas picked up the phone and dialed an 
outside line and the number of a floral shop 
that he knew did deliveries, and showed the 
finicky attention to detail he wanted.

MONDAY June 12th  6:35 a.m.

     The top was down on the 1962 Cadillac and 
Nicholas enjoyed the heat of the morning sun on 
his hands and face.
     His stomach growled, and despite having 
been awake all night, he wanted breakfast, not 
dinner.  Idly, he wondered how long it would 
take until he acclimated to his new work-
schedule and wanted steak or pizza in the 
morning instead of a bagel or french-toast.  He 
had resolved to push that acclimation along by 
adhering to a "normal" schedule.
     The Caddy purred along.  Nicholas was 
outbound in a city of traffic moving inwards.  
Slowed by the morning traffic, he still made it 
home to his loft with less delay than when he 
worked the day-shift.
        Fatique hit Nick as his garage-door was 
closing and he stepped out of the Caddy.
     He went up the elevator to the living 
quarters in the old converted factory.  The 
broad windows let in the morning sun with what 
was suddenly a fierce brightness.  Nicholas's 
eyes were tired, the adrenaline and 
concentration of a shift on Homicide was making 
itself known.  
Adjusting to sleeping through the day might be 
easier than Nick had first thought.
     He found the remote and powered down the 
window shades, throwing the loft into deep night 
except for the pool of light from a lamp.
      On the table holding the lamp he put his 
pistol.  He shrugged out of his shoulder leather 
and
draped it across a seat-back and added his 
jacket and shirt to the pile.  Nick wore soft 
Kevlar body armor under his shirt.  He took this 
off and tossed it onto the pile, leaving him 
only in the mesh undershirt he wore to keep the 
armor from sticking to his skin.
     He walked in to the small kitchen and 
opened the refrigerator.
     Decisions, Decisions.
     Nike found a chilled bottle of wine and a 
glass and poured a couple of fingers to sip from 
while he figured out dinner.
     Something light.
     There were fresh salmon steaks in the 
fridge.  Nike put a couple in the oven to 
broiling and set about making a sizeable salad 
holding a little bit of everything in the fridge 
that looked reasonable.
     The steaks started to sizzle slightly.
     Nicholas took the salad and crossed the 
loft to the area he painted in.  A 4x3 foot 
painting sat on the easel.  A three-quarter moon 
against a velvet black of night.  There were 
numerous portraits of the moon scattered about 
the loft.  This was the biggest.  It had taken 
Nicholas time to get the painting of the marias -
 the luna plains - proper.  There were several 
smaller lunar scapes that Nicholas would have 
destroyed except for the effort that had gone 
into their creation.
     Nicholas stood, savoring the crisp greens 
in the salad while studied the lunar scape and 
waited for the salmon steaks.
     Idly, he wondered if a year or two of 
working nights would see him painting the sun as 
obsessively as he painted the moon now.

TUESDAY June 13th 12:05 a.m.

     Nicholas stopped at the front desk and 
collected the paper-work that had accumulated 
through the day.
     Almost all of it was routine forms needing 
his signature or some detail.
     Near the bottom was a clipping from the 
Toronto Morning News detailing the stake-murder 
he'd handled the night before with quotes from 
him as the police representative on the scene.  
Nick speed-read through it.  His quotes were 
high-lighted in yellow and the clipping
bore a sticky from a department PR officer that 
complemented Nick's handling of the situation. 
Nick didn't keep a scrap-book, but he was 
pleased at how accurate the reporting was.  Some 
of the detectives had adversarial relationships 
with the press, Nicholas tried to do more than 
merely tolerate them.  The reward was - usually -
 more informed reporting and a tendency for the 
press to grant requests for special handling of 
difficult cases.
     Under the clipping was a roll of film.
     A pen had been used to write on the label   
"Nicholas Knight.  Evidence.  Murder at Raven".
     Nike was puzzled.  Where had this come 
from?  Forensics would send him developed 
photographs, not a roll of film.
     Was this some practical joke?  A razzing 
for the new guy?  See how much of a fool he made 
over himself about a blank roll of film?  
Nicholas had seen that sort of thing.  Had 
engaged in some of it himself.  Before you 
trusted a man enough to have him back you up 
with your life on the line, it was good to know 
how he handled the little stresses of life.
     Well, before it went too far, it would be 
good to see if there was anything at all on this 
film.
     Nicholas had just enough time before 
evening muster to drop it at the Film Lab.  And 
if he indicated it was important, he'd have the 
developed frames in an hour or so.
     If the frames showed anything interesting, 
he'd start investigating where the film had come 
from.

TUESDAY June 13th 1:30 a.m.   

     Grace smiled as she entered Natalie 
Lambert's examination room.  The bouquet of red 
roses was very prominent on the desk.  In a 
beautiful white vase that Grace had never seen 
before.  Natalie's admirer had had the class to 
include a vase.  Grace was pleased that he was 
both romantic and thoughtful.
     Natalie was standing over a man's body with 
the chest split-open, hands red with blood.  She 
looked up.  Grace had long realized that Natalie 
had very good hearing and paid attention to what 
was happening around her.  Natalie was the only 
pathologist that you couldn't sneak-up on.
     Natalie's hair was pulled back and she wore 
a baseball cap at a jaunty angle.  She wore no 
make-up on her very pale white skin and there 
was a distinctive shine of moisture on her upper 
lip immediately below her nose.  Grace knew that 
was Vicks Vapor-Rub.  Natalie had confided that 
she had an iron-stomach except for unpleasant 
smells, which the Vapor-Rub masked neatly.  
     Grace pointedly walked over to Natalie's 
desk.
     "Very pretty," Grace said.  "Any note?"
     Natalie smiled with indulgent pleasure.  
"Yes.  Top drawer, center."
     Grace had been told there was no note.  
Natalie was letting her in on a personal secret 
that she was withholding from the rest of the 
night shift.  Grace opened the drawer and found 
it. Elegant.  Thick expensive stock with a 
message in calligraphy so precise Grace doubted 
that the sender had done it himself.  It read:

                I Like what I see.
           Come Watch the Moon with Me
             Detective Nicholas Knight

     Grace set the card back into Natalie's 
desk.  
     "Know him?" Grace asked.
     "Met him last night, on a case," Natalie 
said.  She was working again, splitting her 
attention to talk with Grace.
     "Potential?" Grace asked.
     Natalie shrugged her shoulders slightly.  
"He is attractive.  And there was a .... click 
when we met."
     Grace pounced.  "A click?  A click!  
Natalie, I've clicked with two men in my life.  
I lived with one for two years and married the 
other.  Are we talking the same kind of click."
     Natalie said nothing.  Just continued to 
cut into the cadaver before her.  Grace 
understood that answer.
     She walked over to stand beside Natalie.  
"Natalie."
     Natalie stopped and looked at Grace.
     Grace was serious.  "This is one of the few 
things you don't talk with me about.  There 
seems to be a lot of pain surrounding you and 
personal relationships to men.  I haven't pushed 
you because you've been subtlety clear that this 
isn't an area you want to talk to me about.  
But, I am your friend and I have to say this to 
you right now if I am still going to be a friend.
     "I see the look in your eyes when Robert 
gives me a kiss.  You are lonely and it is 
really starting to bother you to be without 
someone to love you.  I get the feeling that you 
are hiding from something, but you can't hide 
from yourself.
     "Some of the guys I've seen approach you 
are really immature twerps, but some were at 
least worth dinner and some conversation.
     "This guy sent roses!  He is showing some 
class.  Whoever hurt you in the past, I don't 
think it is this man.  Think very seriously 
about his offer.
     "He is a homicide cop so we shouldn't have 
much trouble finding out about him.  I am here, 
Natalie.  I am your friend and I will help 
however I can.  If you want to talk and try to 
work things out, I will listen.  OK?"
     Grace waited.
     Natalie put her scalpel down.
     "OK, Grace.  I hear you, but things are far 
more complicated than you can believe. And there 
are things I can't tell you about."
     "That is OK with me," Grace said.  "I am a 
friend, Natalie. I don't want you telling me 
things you are uncomfortable with.  If you have 
another friend somewhere that you are more 
comfortable with, talk with them.  Just remember 
that I am here if you need me.  And don't let a 
man who sends flowers just slip away from you.  
It is very tough finding good men out there."
     Natalie nodded.  "I know."  She looked away 
from Grace and finished. "He just reminds me of 
someone I use to know."
     "Bad memories?" Grace inquired gently after 
a respectful moment for the secret being shared.
     "Some.  But, also, some good ones.  It is 
confusing.  I need time to think."
     "Okay," Grace agreed.  "Just don't take too 
long.  A man who sends flowers with a vase will 
wait a while for a response, but he won't wait 
forever."
     "Understood," Natalie said.  "Now, that 
you're done mothering, could you do me a favor?"
     "Sure," Grace said.
     Above the examination table, one of the 
lights picked that moment to wink out.
     Grace looked up.  "I don't do lights."
     "Damn thing," Natalie said.  "The bulb 
wiggles loose every now and again.  Give it a 
twist and it works again."  Natalie shook her 
head.  "But that isn't what I'd like.  Could you 
please check the water in the vase and add more 
if they need it?"
     Grace smiled.  "Are you going to tell Mr. 
Knight that you are allergic to roses, amidst 
other things?"
     "Not until I'm sure he will keep sending 
them to me anyway."  It was a throw-away line of 
humor that didn't match the seriousness of 
Natalie's face, but Grace had to give her points 
for trying.
     "Good plan," Grace said and walked over to 
the desk.  She lifted the vase carefully and 
shook it gently.  It was dry.  She walked over 
to the small sink and found a clean container 
and filled the vase with cold water.  She 
fluffed the flowers out so they were perfect 
again.
     There was the distinctive clink of metal 
against glass.
     Natalie stepped back from the examination 
table, holding a glass specimen cup with a 
smashed flat bullet in it.  "I'd say that was 
the cause of death," Natalie observed.
     Grace walked over to the table.  And 
glanced up.  All the lamps were now functioning. 
 "I thought that one needed a twist," Grace 
observed.
     Natalie handed Grace the specimen cup.  
"Looks like it has a new habit.  It just winked 
back in. I better have maintenance take a look 
at it.  Now, would you please take that down to 
Ballistics for me?"
     Grace was agreeable.  Suzy Harper worked in 
Ballistics.  And Suzy Harper's husband was a 
detective on the day shift.  He'd probably know 
this Nicholas Knight.  And that meant Grace 
could find out about anything that Natalie 
should know about Nicholas Knight before things
went too far.            

TUESDAY June 13th 3:13 a.m.   

     Nick Knight dropped the new case file on 
his desk.  This one was pretty cut-and-dry.  
Nick would bet money that the husband was 
responsible when the finger-prints from the 
knife were compared.  Of course, that would 
leave two young children as virtual orphans.  
Some
aspects of this job simply stunk.
     Nick shook his head and decided to clear it 
with another case.
     The film he'd received anonymously that 
night had been developed and printed.  He'd 
picked up the envelope on the way back from the 
newest crime-scene.  Nicholas flicked the 
envelope open and pulled the prints out.  
     The first photo was a shot inside a night-
club somewhere.   People were freeze-framed 
standing beside a bar.  The camera had put a 
date-time stamp,  June 12th  1:17 a.m. in the 
lower right corner.  Amidst the people at the 
bar was Doctor Natalie Lambert.  She was 
reaching for a glass on the top of the bar.  
Wearing a black jacket with a white scarf around 
the throat and draped over her shoulders.
     Nick flicked to the next picture.
     Natalie again.  This time, Lucien LaCroix 
stood in the photo with her.  And Nicholas' own 
painting THE MOON loomed over their heads.
     The shots were from inside the Raven.
     Nicholas continued to flip through the 
photos.
     He held eight photographs total that had 
been taken between 1:15 a.m. and 1:20 am on June 
12th.  All eight showed Doctor Lambert.  Five 
showed Lucien LaCroix.  Four showed Jeanette.  
>From the way that the three had leaned close to 
each other Nicholas assumed that they were 
speaking back and forth as the photographs were 
taken.
     The ninth photo was odd.  It was a 
photograph of a piece of white paper written on 
with a large marker pen.
      
      THESE ARE THE KILLERS.
     I WILL CONTACT YOU.
     THIS IS NO JOKE.

     The writing was in a rapid hand that looked 
feminine to Nicholas's eyes.
     Nicholas considered.
     What was this?
     Was it evidence?  An unidentified roll of 
film shot by person's unknown.  The time-date 
stamp was in the time-interval just before the 
murder.  But, the time-stamp on the film 
wouldn't last a minute in the hands of a defense 
attorney.  These photos might have been shot at 
any time. And, all the photos showed, were 
people having drinks in a bar.  And one of those 
people was a very respected forensic examiner 
for the city.  These photos WEREN'T evidence.  
Not by themselves.
     But, what were they?
     A prank?  No friend would try to implicate 
someone in a murder investigation.  If this roll 
of film had been created by someone from the 
police force, they weren't a friend of Dr. 
Lambert.  And they had a more extreme sense of 
humor than most of the cops Nick knew.
     Was this film on the up-and-up?
     Or, it might be a joke in very poor taste 
or a deliberate attempt to harm an innocent 
woman.
     It would have be played very, very low key.
     The first piece was where was Doctor 
Lambert at 2:05 a.m. on June 12th?  Odds were 
decent she was on duty.  And if she was, there 
was no physical way she could get to the Raven - 
clear across town - in the middle of her shift 
without someone knowing it.
     If Doctor Lambert was working during the 
time-frame in question, than these photos were a 
deliberate attempt to frame an innocent woman 
and interfere in the investigation of a murder. 
And the person most likely to go to such lengths 
would be the murderer that Nicholas was looking 
for.
     Nicholas shoved the photos back into the 
envelope.  There was one other detail.  Someone 
was playing games that could get lethal. If 
something happened to Nicholas - and he hadn't 
passed along knowledge of these photographs, 
then his own killer - and whoever
had staked the man in the alley - might get away 
clean.
     Or, worse, Nicholas could wind up dead and 
the good doctor might get herself innocently 
swept away.
     Nicholas needed to arrange a safety 
mechanism.
     He sealed the envelope closed with a chunk 
of tape and then scribbled across the front:

     HOLD THIS FOR ME.
     CONFIDENTIAL.
     SOMETHING GOES WRONG, OPEN.
     GOT THESE AFTER THE MURDER AT THE RAVEN.
     ANONYMOUS SOURCE.
        Nick Knight        
     
     He walked over to a very cluttered desk and 
opened the top drawer and dropped the envelope 
into it.
     Detective Donald Schanke wasn't one of 
Nicholas's favorite people.  He and Nicholas 
mixed like oil and water.  Still, Nicholas had 
no doubt that Schanke was 100% pure cop.  He 
wouldn't open the envelope because a brother 
officer had asked.  And if something happened to
Nicholas, Schanke would open it and he would 
trail after things in his own way. As determined 
as Nicholas, if differing in methods and 
temperament.  The fact Schanke and Nick weren't 
acknowledged as friendly in the department would 
mean no one would look for anything of
Nicholas's in Schanke's desk.
     Okay.  Bases covered, sort of.
     Now, to find out what was going on.
     Nicholas hadn't received the forensics 
report yet.
     Good enough reason to poke his nose in on a 
certain doctor whom he had dual reasons to know 
more about now.

TUESDAY June 13th 3:17 a.m.   
     
     Nick knocked on the examination room door 
as he opened it.
     Doctor Lambert was looking up from her 
desk, framed on one side by the bouquet of 
roses.  Nicholas had trusted the flower-shop and 
hadn't seen the flowers himself.  He was pleased 
to see that the bouquet was large and well 
formed.
     Even more pleasant was the voltage of the 
smile that Doctor Lambert gave him.
     "Good morning, Detective."  She used his 
title, which implied a wish to hold some 
distance, but her tone and smile were personal 
and inviting.
     He replied in kind, wishing Natalie to be 
comfortable with him. "Good morning, Doctor."
     Nicholas reached over and took a rose from 
the bouquet and twirled it between his fingers, 
carefully avoiding the thorns.  "Do you have a 
few moments to discuss a case?"
     Doctor Lambert blinked and Nicholas felt 
his stomach drop.  He'd made a mistake with that 
one; she wasn't expecting a work conversation.  
But Natalie recovered and shifted into 
professional mode too fast for him to compensate.
     "Sure," she said.  "Let me guess, the 
mystery man with the stake?"
     Nicholas nodded.
     "Not much, I'm afraid.  The left hand was 
crushed like someone used a hydraulic press on 
it.  The bones were shattered into tiny pieces.  
The neck injuries are also different.  They are 
not sharp punctures like you'd get from a needle 
or an ice-pick.  They looked more like a 
sharpened screwdriver blade.  Oblong injuries 
from something that was driven into the side of 
the throat. Both wounds penetrated the jugular.  
The stake through the chest was definitely post-
modum.  The stake passed clean through the heart 
and there is none of the tearing you'd expect if 
the heart was beating when the stake was driven 
through.  Also, whoever pounded that stake 
through had substantial physical strength.  The 
entrance wound was between two ribs, so the 
stake just spread them apart, but it was driven 
clean through the back rib."
     Natalie looked directly into Nicholas's 
gaze, impressing him with her eyes as to what 
she was saying.  "Someone hit that stake hard 
enough to snap a rib-bone in half and drive the 
stake out through it."
     Nicholas was properly impressed.
     "We found no sign of chemicals in the 
blood.  No other injuries; I checked carefully 
for rope-burns on the wrists or ankles.  The 
body was minus half its blood and because the 
stake was post-modem, there was no blood in the 
chest cavity.  My only guess is that the throat 
wounds were used in some fashion to extract the 
man's blood until he died from shock.  What is 
confusing me is the lack of signs of struggle.  
There is no sign he was restrained or drugged 
into submission.  So why did he permit someone 
to drive a screwdriver into his throat twice and 
then bleed to death?"
     "Any ID in the clothing?" Nicholas asked.
     Natalie shook her head.  "Nothing.  The 
clothing is expensive, but it isn't hand 
tailored.  Best we could do was to get the 
body's own finger-prints."
     Nicholas already knew those weren't leading 
anywhere.  This case was a weird one, made worse 
by the photographs sitting in Schanke's desk 
right now.
     "Any tattoos? Scars?  Other marks?," 
Nicholas asked.
     "No tattoos of any kind," Natalie said. "No 
scars.  No marks. Nothing. I think the only 
thread you've got here is when someone files a 
missing-person report that matches this man."  
     Nick nodded.  "Okay.  When can I get a copy 
of the autopsy report?"
     "Should be written up by the end of the 
shift."
     Nicholas slipped the rose he was holding 
back into the vase.
     "Do these meet with your approval," he 
said, gesturing at the roses.
     Natalie followed the abrupt change in topic 
as easily as she had before.  "Yes."  Her smile 
was pleased.
     "Would you like to watch the moon," 
Nicholas asked.
     "Yes."
     A cold weight of possible rejection in 
Nicholas's stomach lifted.
     "Are you working a standard night shift?" 
Nicholas asked.  Natalie nodded.  "How about 
Saturday night?  There is a full moon.  Should 
be spectacular."
     "Sounds good," she said truthfully.  
"Should I bring anything?"
     "Hmm, no.  Except, dress for a night 
outside.  I'll pick you up at ten.  Unless you 
want the escape of your own car," Nick said the 
last with a charming smile.
     Natalie smiled back.  "I've pretty good at 
escaping, with or without a car.  If I didn't 
think you'd see me safely home, I wouldn't go 
out with you in the first place.  You can pick 
me up.  Know where?"
     Nicholas shook his head.  "No, I didn't 
want to be too nosey without your permission.  
But, I am a trained detective and I have a 
couple of days to figure it out."
     "Well, then you should also be able to 
figure out enough to not have to ask me my sign, 
so you'll have to figure out some other topics 
of conversation."
     "Never been a problem," Nicholas said.
     Natalie grinned at his confidence and 
flipped open another folder on her desk.  "Well, 
then, you had best run along so I can get this 
done and get you your report."
     "Until Saturday," Nicholas said, smiled 
again and departed.
     
TUESDAY June 13th 7:30 a.m.   
     Nicholas's phone rang.
     He debated letting the answering machine 
get it, then decided against it and crossed the 
loft to pick it up.
     "Yeah, Knight," he greeted his caller.
     It was a woman.  "Hello, Detective.  I am 
the person who sent you the pictures about the 
murder at the Raven.  Have you had them 
developed?"
     Nicholas sat down on the edge of the couch. 
 "Yes, I did," he decided to say.
     "By themselves, they are not much," the 
woman said.  "But, I have other information.  I 
would prefer to meet in public somewhere and 
talk face-to-face.  I have other things to show 
you."
     Nicholas considered.  The odds that this 
was some elaborate plot to harm him were small.  
Someone who wanted to kill Nick - who had his 
home phone number and could get pictures into 
the police station - could easily shoot him down 
in the street before he realized what was 
happening.  There was no need to call him out 
somewhere where his guard would be up.  
     Something odd was going on here.
     Nicholas decided he had to play this out 
and see where it lead.  "OK.  I can agree to 
that."
     "There is a diner, Lucy's, a few blocks 
away from you.  Do you know it?"
     "Yes," Nicholas said.  He'd eaten there on 
occasion.
     "I can be there in twenty minutes.  Can 
you?"
     Nicholas knew he'd be there a lot quicker 
than that.  Which would allow him to see what 
was going on and be prepared before this woman 
arrived.
     "Yes, I can," Nicholas said.
     "Fine," the woman said.  "I will find you 
at the diner.  Twenty minutes."  And she hung up.
     Nicholas put his own phone down.
     He was still in his shirt and body armor.  
Nicholas slipped into his pistol holster, 
checked that his badge-case was in his front 
pocket and grabbed his car-keys and a light 
jacket to conceal the gun.
     There was a moment to regret that he hadn't 
had time to confirm that Doctor Lambert was on-
duty during the time that the photographs had 
allegedly been taken, then Nicholas was punching 
the down-button on the elevator and dropping to 
the Cadillac.
     The Cadillac warmed up as the automatic 
drop-opener pulled the big garage door open 
behind it.  Nicholas backed out, touched the 
door-closed button and set out to Lucy's.
     Morning traffic was in full swing both on 
the roads and at Lucy's, but Nicholas was parked 
and sitting at a small booth near the door with 
a cup of coffee within ten minutes.  
     He ignored the menu at his hand and watched 
the door, waiting for a woman he knew he 
couldn't identify.  All he had was a voice.
     Nicholas had been seated only a little over 
ten minutes when a pretty black haired woman in 
her thirties walked in the door and directly 
over to Nicholas's booth.  She slipped in 
opposite him and settled her pocket-book on the 
table-top.
     "Good morning, Detective," she said 
pleasantly.  "Thank you for meeting me."  It was 
the right voice.
     She had dark eyes to match the hair with a 
pleasant smile.  A gold necklace with a small 
heart-shaped pendant hung around her neck.  Her 
earrings, gold cruifixes, were suspended from 
delicate chains so they lay agaisnt the sides of 
her neck.
     A waitress bustled over and laid out 
another menu and place-setting.  "Coffee?" she 
asked.  The woman nodded.  "Not decaf, please."
     The waitress nodded and went to get a cup 
and pitcher.
     Nicholas stirred his coffee to give his 
hand something to do.
     "Do you have a name?" Nicholas asked.
     "Alyce Hunter."
     Alyce looked at her menu.  "Is there 
anything especially good here?" she asked.
     "I like their hash.  The omelets are good."
     Alyce nodded.
     The waitress came over and fixed a mug and 
set it by Alyce's hand.  "Ready to order?" she 
asked.
     Alyce closed her menu.  "I am."
     The waitress looked at Nicholas.  "Two 
scrambled eggs, cornbeef hash and sourdough 
toast," Nicholas said.  This was jotted down.  
Alyce ordered a cheese and mushroom omelet with 
hashbrowns and a glass of orange juice.
     The waitress walked away.
     The sun light streaming through the window 
by the booth was warm on Nicholas' shoulders and 
hands.
     Alyce stirred cream into her coffee and 
took a sip. She set the cup down with a light 
clink of china and cupped both hands around it 
as if for warmth.
     "The man who was killed in the alley behind 
the Raven is Peter Vincent.  You haven't been 
able to trace down his identity from 
fingerprints because all documents about his 
life have been eliminated.  Peter is ex-SAS.  
Special Air Services.  An elite British commando 
unit.  He worked for British Military 
Intelligence for many years; they got rid of his 
official documents so he could operate as a non-
person.  If something went wrong during a 
domestic operation, he couldn't be tied back to 
the British government.
     "I met Peter five years ago.  I was working 
in a museum in England, very late at night, and 
I was attacked by a vampire."
     Her words struck Nicholas as terribly out 
of place in the warm, sunny diner with people 
bustling about as they began another day in 
their lives.
     "A vampire?" he asked.
     "A vampire.  Fangs; ability to fly; thirst 
for blood.  The real Hollywood creature.
     "Except, no Hollywood movie has ever 
captured the fear of a vampire going for your 
throat.  It is like a wild animal attack.  I got 
very, very lucky.  I was in the museum that 
night researching the design on an antique 
crucifix.  I had the crucifix in my hand when 
the vampire attacked me and I hit it hard across 
the face in reflex.  A crucifix is one of the 
few things on earth that can harm a vampire.  
Touching one causes very bad burns.  And the 
mere presence of one causes a vampire to feel 
physically weak and uncomfortable.
     "That was just enough for me to survive the 
initial attack and hold the vampire at bay until 
my second piece of luck arrived.  Peter.  He had 
broken into the museum and had been working all 
of twenty feet from me all night.  Reading 
through old manuscripts and doing his own
research.  Fortunately for me, Peter is a 
vampire hunter.  He heard what was going on and 
was behind the vampire when it attacked me.  
Peter had a stake in his belt and he drove it 
into the vampire's heart before it even realized 
I wasn't alone."
     Nicholas considered.
     "That is quite a story," he said.
     Alyce smiled and sipped her coffee.  "Yes.  
Very hard to believe.  I was the one who was 
attacked.  I saw that vampire.  Smelled the 
charred flesh where the cross had branded its 
face.  Heard its scream as it recoiled from me.  
Watched it as it snarled at me with its fangs, 
raising one hand to ward of the crucifix I held 
before me.  And it took me two days to 
acknowledge that Peter was right and it hadn't 
just been a mentally ill man with delusions of 
being Dracula."
     "But, it did happen.  I saw it.  I was 
almost killed by it.  And, when a couple of days 
had passed I knew that I had to go with Peter to 
help him.  Peter was a very good soldier.  And a 
good man for gathering intelligence.  But, he 
isn't a trained researcher.  He didn't know all 
the ins-and-outs of old libraries, public 
records vaults and research facilities.  Sifting 
through the ages to hunt for vampires was the 
work of a professional.  Small, obscure details 
can be worth their weight in gold.
     "In five years, Peter and I have managed to 
find and kill three vampires aside the one that 
attacked me.  The last one had papers that 
indicated the presence of a vampire colony here 
in Toronto.  With Lucien LaCroix as the head of 
the colony."
     "Lucien LaCroix is a vampire?" Nicholas 
asked.  He didn't try to hide his disbelief.
     "Yes.  And I think an old one.  There are a 
handful of rare old books written by people that 
you would assume to be insane if you didn't 
believe in vampires.  They provide a look into 
the vampire culture and life.  One book that 
dates from before the 12th Century mentions a 
Lucien LaCroix by name.  The physical 
description given in that book, rough as it is, 
matches the man we see today."
     "800 years."
     "Maybe more.  Vampires don't seem to die of 
old age.  They get stronger as they get older.  
There is mention of Ancient Ones, vampires 
thousands of years old, with powers that we 
would consider those of a god."
     Alyce stirred her coffee.  Nicholas saw 
that she was comfortable in her monologue.  He 
assumed that she had been a teacher or professor 
at some point and enjoyed it.
     "Vampires are like us in ways, Nicholas.  
They have different opinions and value systems.  
There are vampires that prefer to live alone, 
trusting to their own skills and powers and 
satisfied in their own isolation.  Others form 
colonies; for companionship, joint protection 
against threats, ease of living, much like we 
form cities and towns.
     "The older the vampire, the more powerful 
it is.  A young vampire gains a greater chance 
of life if it has older vampires to learn from 
and receive protection from.  Older vampires 
seem to feel an obligation to protect and 
continue the vampire lineage by assisting those 
younger then themselves.  The vampires have a 
culture.  A very nomadic culture based upon oral 
traditions and a handful of rules, but they do 
have a culture."
     "Predatory animals are always far 
outnumbered by their prey in a stable ecosystem. 
 Vampires, which have to conceal their killing, 
are required to be even more in the minority.  
Only a large city like Toronto can provide 
enough prey for a colony to form and sustain 
itself."
     "So, why don't we find bloodless bodies all 
over the place?" Nicholas had to ask.
     "They are very careful to hide their tracks 
nowadays.  How many people, Detective, disappear 
in a large metropolitan city and are never found 
again?  How many transients disappear and no one 
notices until a pile of bones is discovered in 
an out-of-the-way location? 
And vampires do not have to kill to feed.  They 
are quite capable of taking enough blood to ease 
their hunger and leave a victim alive, but 
hypnotized into forgetting about the entire 
incident.  Peter and I are quite certain that 
the Raven is a feeding ground for the vampires.
     "Consider it.  People in that club are 
drinking and using mind-altering drugs.  They 
are often prepared to leave with someone they 
don't know to spend the night together.  It is a 
perfect place to seduce someone and steal a few 
pints of blood.  The next morning, they 
attribute any weakness to the drinking they did 
the night before.  And any memories of unusual 
people with fangs to whatever drug or drink they 
were using."
     Nicholas had decided to play along with 
this tale, to buy time if nothing else.  "That 
makes an amount of sense," he said.  "But, how 
many vampires could there be here?  Every time 
they feed, there is a chance of exposure.  A 
large enough group will eventually be exposed."
     "We don't really know.  The three we killed 
before were all solitaries.  With them, we did 
find evidence that vampires have tapped into the 
medical blood-banks so they can get food with 
little exposure.  Toronto is a big place.  The 
colony could be very large.  That was part of 
what Peter was trying to figure out.
     "I assume that the two women in the 
photographs with Lucien are also vampires.  From 
the behavior we saw when in the Raven, Peter and 
I assumed that there were another six or eight."
     Nicholas absorbed this assertation that 
Jeanette and Natalie were also vampires.
     "One of the women in the photographs you 
sent me IS a respected forensics pathologist for 
the city," he pointed out.
     "Yes.  Doubtlessly, it is a reason why this 
colony is here.  What better way to conceal 
murders in the city but then to have someone 
doing autopsies who is also a vampire.  Who can 
hypnotize people into ignoring specific wounds, 
or alter them to match that caused by a common 
knife or other weapon."
     Nicholas found that this made disturbing 
sense: if one was already crazy enough to 
believe in vampires.
     "So, why was Peter killed?  In so public a 
place?" he prompted.  The professional cop was 
looking for information.  There was a murder 
here.  Perhaps, Alyce did have information, 
hidden in her delusions.
     "Peter was trying to figure out how many 
vampires we were dealing with and where they 
were living.
     "We know that vampires burn like road 
flares when exposed to the light of the sun.  We 
also know that they do have to...sleep, for lack 
of a better word.  They have to have a safe 
place to bed down for the day.  A logical place 
was the back rooms of the Raven. Peter was ex-
SAS.  He knew how to break into places and look 
around and get out again without anyone knowing. 
 He broke into the Raven to see what was in the 
backrooms.  He was trying to get a feel for how 
many vampires he'd be dealing with and how the 
building was laid-out inside.  Killing a single 
vampire is very dangerous work and you need to 
plan for it very well.  If you are dealing with 
more than 1..."
     "And someone caught him?" Nicholas prodded.
     "Yes.  Apparently.  I was in the Raven that 
night, taking photographs of people and watching 
the entrances to the back rooms so I could warn 
him of trouble approaching.  About 1:25 a.m., a 
couple of people went into the Raven's back 
areas.  A minute later, Lucien, the
women and a couple of others went into the 
backrooms also.  I tried to warn Peter via 
radio, but he didn't reply to me.  They all came 
back into the Raven about ten minutes later.  A 
few minutes after that, someone next to me was 
told that there was a body outside.  I went out 
and it was Peter."
     Alycees' voice shuddered to a halt.  She 
dropped her gaze to stare into the emptiness of 
the tabletop and her hand was white on the china 
cup. 
     Nicholas said nothing and did nothing.  
Just waited for her to continue.
     The waitress bustled up with their food.  
That distraction gave Alycees a chance to gather 
herself.  By the time their meals were set 
before them and the waitress had refreshed 
coffee and left, Alycees had herself together 
again.  Only faint smudges of mascara under her 
eyes revealed that anything had been wrong.
     "Did you leave the Raven immediately" 
Nicholas asked.
     Alycees cut into her omelette.  "Yes.  I 
was afraid that I had been noticed."
     Nick ate some hash.
     "If you left immediately, how did you know 
I was on this case?  And how did you get 
photographs into the police station?"
     Alyce smiled faintly with mischief.  "Peter 
and I have friends.  Friends in high places.  I 
asked for help from those friends.  A name and 
delivery of a small package.  They helped me."
     "Who?"
     Alyce shook her head, lips firmly pressed 
together.
     The truth of it, Nicholas realized, was 
that it didn't have to be someone high up in the 
police organization.  A janitor who kept their 
ears open while working would probably know who 
was on a high profile case like the killing at 
the Raven.  And they could slip a package into 
an in box. 
     He cut off a piece of toast and speared it 
and some scrambled egg with his fork and ate it.
     "OK.  Assume I believe you.  Toronto is 
home to a vampire colony.  The cast of blood-
suckers includes a city forensic pathologist and 
a local radio host."
     "Radio Host?" Alyce interrupted.
     "LaCroix.  He is the NightCrawler on CERK 
radio."
     Alyce arced her eyebrows in interest and 
motioned for Nicholas to continue.
     Nick did.  "Where do I fit in?  What do you 
want me to do?"
     Alyce spoke softly.  "A man has been 
murdered, detective.  The people who murdered 
him need to be brought to justice.  I know his 
killers were vampires.  The traditional "cure" 
for a vampire is a stake through the heart.  The 
odds are against you holding them in a jail and 
prosecuting them with the courts, but I know it 
has been done in the historical past and it is 
enough for me if it is what you will do.
     "I can't avenge Peter alone.  He was the 
hunter.  I did the book work.  If I try to face 
the colony alone, I will be killed.  I lack the 
training and the mental conditioning to win a 
physical battle.
     "I can't very well advertise in the 
newspapers for a vampire killer.
     "That leaves me with a police officer.  
That leaves me with you.
     "I am telling you who the criminals are in 
a case you are working.  I am warning you that 
these criminals are extremely dangerous and 
capable of killing almost by reflex.  
     "What I want you to do take me seriously as 
much as you can.
     "If you don't believe me about vampires, 
then believe that these people are Peter 
Vincent's killers.  That I was in the Raven that 
night and what I saw did happen.
     "Take my information and dig.  Prove the 
case and support the law."
     Nicholas considered.
     Remove the vampire element and this entire 
conversation was not unusual.  A detective 
getting the lucky break of someone with 
information sliding out into the daylight for a 
few minutes to pass it on.  Not enough to solve 
the case, but enough to find a direction to 
investigate along or new details to consider.
     Nicholas sipped at his coffee while he 
thought.
     "OK.  I admit that this case hasn't turned 
up much in the way of leads.  I will investigate 
what you've told me.  I don't know what of your 
tale to believe.  But, it is information that I 
didn't have before I came here.
     "I'm inclined to believe that you need 
psychological help.  I can help you get some 
professional assistance.  But, I can't force you 
to."
     Alyce smiled gently.  "I am not crazy.  
But, I understand your reluctance.  Investigate. 
 See if you can get LaCroix to meet you in broad 
daylight.  If you dig, you will find evidence to 
support what I've told you.  Then you will have 
to figure out what to do about vampires lurking 
in downtown Toronto."
     "Where do I reach you?" Nicholas asked, 
crossing his fingers that she'd give him an 
address somewhere.
     "You don't," Alyce said.  "My only 
protection right now is that no one knows where 
I am.  I will call you every twelve hours at 
7:00 on the dot at your home.  If you need to 
talk with me, be home.  I'm sorry, but that is 
the way of it."
     Nicholas heard in her voice the futility of 
arguing with her.
     They were done with breakfast.
     Alyce looked at her watch.
     "It is getting late for those of us who 
have been up all night.  I need to go."  She 
started to open her pocketbook.
     Nicholas touched her sleeve very gently.
     "I will pay for breakfast," he said.
     Alyce looked him in the eyes.  "Thank you," 
she said for more than just picking up the tab.
     Nick nodded and watched her walk away into 
the warming morning, knowing that he should 
attempt to follow her, but knowing that he 
wouldn't.
          
WEDNESDAY June 14th 12:15 a.m.  
     
        The Caddy purred through the night streets.
        CERK was on the radio and the NightCrawler 
was in a soliloquy.
        "Good evening, dear listeners.
      "The theme for tonight is Family.
        "Any fornicating couple can produce 
offspring and we call it a family.  But, a true 
family is not a result of spontaneous couplings. 
It must be formed.  It is not an easy thing to 
build a true family.  There must be someone with 
the willingness to sacrifice themselves to 
provide for those that they love.  And, they 
must be willing to make that sacrifice time and 
again without being acknowledged or thanked for 
their sacrifice.
        "For sacrifice is the very heart of a 
family.
        "The willingness to give of one self.  To 
deprive one self.  To benefit those in the 
family."
        "The benefit of a daughter, perhaps, who has 
strayed from the ways that she was taught.  Who 
looks down upon a father that she still needs 
the protection and comfort of..."
        "Family can be both a blessing and curse.
        "Often, it is both in the same act.
        "That is one of the paradoxes of a family.  
For it is generally considered irrational to 
cause oneself pain, yet a family is something 
that is deliberately created.   And by creating 
a true family, you are creating an agent for 
your own pain.  
        "Pain is, however, a useful agent.  It keeps 
us alert and makes us aware.  It sharpens the 
senses and energizes the nerves.
        "Which can then make us more able to deal 
with the rigours of a Family."
        "Thus, the circle closes in upon itself."
        "Let us consider this for a few minutes."
        Classical music replaced LaCroix's creepy, 
gleeful monotone.

        Nicholas was parked in front of the CERK 
radio station before the music ended.
        His badge got him a personal escort through 
the labrynth of rooms to the small studio that 
LaCroix was broadcasting from.
        The ON-AIR sign was lit and Nick's escort 
warned him to silence before opening the door 
and ushering him inside.
        LaCroix was dressed in his standard black and 
apparently listening intently to a caller via 
the speaker behind his head.  LaCroix's gaze 
immediately shifted to Nicholas as he entered 
and held focused on Nick as LaCroix answered his 
caller.
        Nicholas waited patiently as LaCroix dealt 
with several more calls and shared opinions 
about Family before playing more music.
        LaCroix adjusted a switch on his microphone 
and beckoned Nicholas to a seat across from him 
in the small room.
        "Good evening, Nicholas.  Something pressing 
I assume?"
        Nick nodded agreement as he sat down.  
"Perhaps.  More a desire to be careful than 
anything. Do you know a woman named Alyce 
Hunter?"
        LaCroix settled back into his chair and 
templed his fingers and touched them to his lips 
in apparent concentration.  "No.  I do not.  
Should I?"
        "You need to.  She may be a physical threat 
to you.  She has contacted me with regards to 
the murder at the Raven.  She believes that you 
and Janette and a forensic pathologist named 
Natalie Lambert are party to the murder."
        "And why would I have done this?" LaCroix 
wanted to know.
        "Because you are a vampire."
        LaCroix immediately burst into laughter.  He 
contained himself in a few moments.  LaCroix was 
never far from control.
        "Really, Nicholas," LaCroix's eyes glittered 
with glee.  "A vampire!  How amusing.  I've been 
called many things in my time, but that is 
certainly new.  Do you believe this tale?"
        "Vampires?  No.  There is no such thing as 
vampires.  But this woman does believe in them.  
And she believes that you are one and that you 
killed her friend."
        "So she wants vengence?" LaCroix asked.  "An 
admireable trait."
        "Yes, she wants vengence.  Right now, she 
only wants me to investigate and bring you in 
legally.  She has made no threats and requested 
no illegal activity on my part, so there is no 
way I can arrest or detain her.  But, she could 
be dangerous.  You need to be careful.  Watch 
the people around you, especially at the Raven 
or anywhere else you are in large bodies of 
people in public.  Make sure you doors and 
windows are locked at night and call the police 
immediately if you think something odd is going 
on."
        "Like a young woman stalking me with a 
stake?" LaCroix's voice positively giggled.
        Nicholas leaned forward with his palms on his 
knees.  "I'd take this threat a little more 
seriously, LaCroix.  This woman stated that she 
couldn't take action against you herself, that 
needed someone else to help her.  I am hoping 
that if I find the real killers, that her 
delusion will fade, but if I take more time than 
she wishes or she is deeply delusional, you 
might have a problem.
        "And until she makes an active threat, there 
is very little I can do to remove her from the 
streets."
        "All right, Nicholas, I will take this more 
seriously because you ask," LaCroix conceded 
easily.  "Do you know where this woman lives, or 
what places she frequents so that I can avoid 
those areas myself?"
        Nicholas shook his head.  "No.  She is 
afraid, so she won't tell me where she lives.  I 
do think that she is transient in the area.  My 
guess is a hotel somewhere.   I know that she 
has been in the Raven at least once so I might 
avoid going there."
        "And Janette?" LaCroix wanted to know.
        "I have already warned her; she didn't seem 
very concerned."
        "Janette is very capable of taking care of 
herself, Nicholas," LaCroix relayed.  "Janette 
and I have many friends in the Raven.  We are 
both probably safer there than you anticipate.  
Safer even than your forensic pathologist."
        Nick shook his head.  "That is doubtful.  
This is a potential threat against a member of 
the police force itself.  Plus, Doctor Lambert 
is well-liked.  She has all the security she can 
stand watching her home and herself."  Nick 
stood up.  He recognized the classical work 
being played and realized it was close to 
ending.  LaCroix would have to return to his 
radio broadcast and Nicholas felt he was done 
here.  "You and Janette look out for each other. 
 If something is going on and you don't want 
official police involvement, please give me a 
call directly."
        "Thank you, Nicholas," LaCroix almost purred. 
 The piano drifted to a halt; LaCroix moved to 
click his microphone live.  "Have a nice night, 
Detective Knight."  LaCroix smiled, turned his 
microphone back on and the NightCrawler's voice 
drifted once again through the dark skies of 
Toronto.
        Nicholas took his leave.

WEDNESDAY June 15th 7:00 a.m.  
     The phone in the living room of the loft 
rang.
     Nicholas put down the spoon he was stirring 
his pasta with and picked up the kitchen 
extension.
     "Yeah, Knight."
     "Good morning, Nicholas."  It was Alyce.  
He could hear voices in the background.  She was 
calling from a public phone somewhere.  
        "Good morning, Alyce," he replied politely.
        "Have you had time to investigate anything?" 
Alyce asked.
        Nicholas had already decided there were 
certain things he would tell her.
        "Yes.  Some things.  I know that part of your 
story doesn't hold.  Doctor Lambert was across 
town on another case at the time you claim to 
have taken her photos in the Raven.  I have 
police dispatcher records and the recollection 
of the two people she was working with that 
night."
        "Remember that she is a vampire," Alyce said 
resolutely.  "She can hypnotize people into 
remembering what she wants.  And she can fly.  
She could easily have people think she was 
working across town but really be at the Raven.  
In fact, that is doubtlessly what happened, 
since I did take her photo in the Raven."
        "I have trouble believing that," Nicholas 
said.
        "Yes, I understand," Alyce said.  "Have you 
been listening to LaCroix on CERK?"
        Nick sprinkled pepper into the boiling water 
holding his pasta.
        "Yes."
        "He seems to be having some family problems.  
Maybe that can be exploited to our advantage?"
        "How so?"
        "I don't know, for certain.  But, I know that 
the vampires are powerful foes.  Any advantage 
is something to be seized.  If the vampire 
community is in turmoil, that can only aid us."
        "OK," was Nick's limited response.  He didn't 
want to feed Alyce's delusions by acknowledging 
them too much.
        "Do you have anything else?" Alyce wanted to 
know.
        "Nothing yet," Nick said.  It was an 
admission painful in its truth.  Professionally, 
Nicholas almost wished he had a solid lead to 
lie to Alyce about.
        "OK, I'll call again," Alyce said and hung up.
        Nick put his own phone down and returned to 
preparing breakfast.

THURSDAY June 15th 8:25 p.m.

     Natalie put her wrap-around black shades on 
and tilted her wide hat brim down.  She opened 
the front door of her apartment onto the small 
porch and looked down.  The door bell had rung 
at 4:30 that afternoon, but the flowers still 
were beautiful.
     Another bunch of roses.  White this time.  
In a vase with a note.
     Natalie leaned out, picked up the vase and 
stepped back into the comforting gloom of her 
apartment.
     The note was this time in Nicholas's own 
hand.
     
     DIDN'T WANT YOUR FLOWERS TO GET OLD BEFORE 
SATURDAY.

     Sydney curved against the back of Natalie's 
legs, body warm and soft.  His purring was a 
low, powerful metronome.  It was very pleasing 
to Natalie's ears.  She reach down and and 
ruffed the back of his ears.
     "Flowers from my gentleman caller, Sydney.  
The second bunch before I've gotten even before 
going out with him on a date."
     Sydney purred his approval.
     Natalie walked back into her apartment.  
She was annoyed that she only had a few moments 
to enjoy the roses before she had to leave for 
work, but that was the way of things - going out 
onto the porch to get them earlier would have 
been too dangerous.  She still had a very nice 
bouquet on her desk.  Natalie got some latex 
gloves out of the kitchen and put them on.  
Protected, she set the roses on her coffee table 
and ruffled them so they filled out widely.
     Sydney sat on his haunches and purred with 
his head tipped back, eyes closed in apparent 
relaxation.
     Natalie looked at the flowers and forced 
down her fears and let her soul warm.
     This could be the chance.  Arrived against 
impossible odds.  The resolve she'd developed 
after Grace's lecture strengthened her as she 
admired the beauty of the roses and considered 
the character of the man who'd delivered them.
     She knew it was getting late to leave for 
work, but Natalie dallied anyway, enjoying the 
warm sensation of hope while she could sustain 
it.
     It had been a very long time.

SATURDAY June 17th 9:58 P.M.
     
     Nicolas pulled up to Natalie Lambert's 
apartment and parked in the short section of 
driveway that led to her garage.
     He looked around the car critically for a 
moment and then got out.
     The Caddy's paint gleamed with fresh wax in 
the light from the Natalie's front porch.
     Nicholas's boots thumped quietly on the 
flat stones that led across her freshly mowed 
lawn to the front door.
     He touched the doorbell button lightly for 
a just a moment and waited.
     It took a minute before Natalie opened the 
door.
     Nick had no problem with the wait.
     Natalie was gorgeous.
     Her strawberry hair swirled down around her 
shoulders.  Full lips glossed just red enough to 
be noticeable without being overdone.  Her eyes 
sparkled and Nick was honored to note just a 
slight touch of mascara.  Her smile could have 
lit up half of Toronto.  The floral scent of her 
shampoo and soap washed pleasantly around 
Nicholas. Natalie so beguiled Nicholas that he 
didn't even fully realize she wasn't dressed.  
She wore a white kimono with rich blue designs 
woven into it, the neck open just far enough to 
hint at cleavage without being obvious.
     Natalie had the advantage.  "Good evening, 
Nicholas."  Her eyes swept up and down.  
Nicholas was dressed casually but well.  Black 
jeans so fresh they were still creased.  A white 
shirt with shoulder epaulettes.  His boots and 
belt were matching in the leather pattern and 
tooling.  She found him attractive.  And she now 
knew what to wear so they looked "together".
     Nicholas found his tongue.  "Good evening," 
he gestured with a hand.  "We are going out?" he 
asked.
     Natalie's grinned mischievously.  "Yes.  
Sorry.  Been a while since I was out on a date.  
I've forgotten how much I like to do before.  
Got a little behind.  Would you come in?"  She 
ushered him in the door.
     Sydney came stalking in from the living 
room and started sniffing the stranger in his 
domain.
     Natalie stroked Sydney's spine with the 
sole of her bare foot.  "Nicholas, this is 
Sydney.  Sydney, this is Nicholas.  Hope you 
boys get along."
     Nicholas crouched to run his hand along 
Sydney's side.  "I do like cats," Nicholas said. 
 Sydney arched his back against Nicholas's hand 
and began a heavy rumble.
     Natalie felt glad that Sydney seemed to 
like Nicholas.  "I only need a couple of minutes 
to get ready, can I get you something to drink 
while you wait?"
     Nicholas shook his head.  "No, thank you.  
If it is just a couple of minutes, I'm quite OK."
     "All right.  If you need something, call 
out.  I'll go finish getting dressed."
     Natalie walked down the hall and Nicholas 
thought he noticed more movement in her hips 
than he saw in the office.  Of course, the 
amount of makeup she was wearing was more than 
at the office also.
     Sydney was obviously one of Natalie's 
intimate friends and he was a friendly cat. 
Nicholas scooped the cat up into his arms and 
stood.  Sydney lay along Nicholas's arm, 
rhythmically digging his claws lightly into 
Nicholas's arm and shirt as Nicholas stroked his 
head
and back.
     Nicholas walked idly around Natalie's 
living room.
     It was almost classically feminine.  Very 
light colors.  Furniture that looked very fine 
and fragile.  Numerous potted plants that seemed 
well cared for.  Several paintings in very old 
frames were on the walls and there were several 
sculpture works that looked quite old.
     There was a book shelf filled with a wide 
assortment of books.  Hard copied medical texts. 
Several best-sellers hard covers.    Detective 
fiction.  Sci-fi novels.  Nature books and 
history volumes.  A wash of cheap paperback 
romances.  Natalie Lambert had wide and varied 
tastes.
     There was a television and VCR and a bank 
of purchased tapes.  Nicholas scanned over the 
titles - looking for insight.  A preference for 
romantic comedies, hardly surprising but still 
something to remember.
     His second bouquet was on her coffee table. 
 The card had been creased down the middle so it 
would stand and was behind the vase.  Nicholas 
was pleased that she displayed the bouquet as a 
centerpiece in this room that was so uniquely 
hers.
     Nick heard the faint sounds of Natalie 
walking down the hall to the living room.
     She was dressed for a night outside.  Faded 
blue jeans that looked very comfortable.  A 
blouse in fragile pink.  "I need something from 
the fridge, back in a second."  She disappeared 
back into the apartment.
     Sydney jerked and stood up to jump.  
Nicholas stooped and set the big cat on the rug. 
 Sydney galloped off in Natalie's wake.   
"Someone thinks it is dinner time," Nicholas 
called out conversationally.
     Natalie laughed and Nicholas heard her open 
a cupboard.  "Sydney always thinks it is dinner 
time when I go into the kitchen.  Tonight, 
however, maybe it would be better if I left him 
a little extra, just so he doesn't get jealous."
     Nicholas was pleased at the easy way she 
said that last.
     In a minute, Natalie came back to the front 
door.  She was carrying a small travel cooler.  
"OK, big secret number 1 that you have to deal 
with.   I have more allergies than Sydney has 
fur. I'm on a special liquid diet that I can't 
deviate from very much, thus..." Natalie waved 
the cooler.  " taking me out to dinner is always 
a waste.  While it does make me a cheap date, it 
can get awkward at times.  I also have a 
terrible problem with sunlight.  I do more than 
turn into a pumpkin at dawn, Nicholas, I could 
die from the exposure.  We can go wherever you 
have planned, but I have to be inside by dawn.  
OK?"
     Nicholas considered saying he already knew 
these things, but decided not to.  This was 
Natalie's personal life.  He'd been 
uncomfortable if people around him knew the 
details of his life. Nicholas settled for his 
best friendship smile.  "Sure, Natalie.  Home by 
dawn. My word."
     "Well the word of a Knight should be good 
enough for any lady," Natalie said in a fun way 
that still made Nicholas realize she wasn't 
joking about her respect for him, "lead on."
     Nicholas opened the door to Natalie's 
apartment and stepped down onto the stones.
     Natalie followed and locked the door, then 
really saw Nicholas' car for the first time.
     "Heh, nice."  There was genuine interest 
and satisfaction in her voice.  She all but 
passed Nicholas to see the Caddy.
     "1962" Natalie said.  Nick was surprised at 
her knowledge. "Yes, how did you know?"
     Natalie admired the wide chrome grille.  "I 
had a 62 Caddy myself at one point.  Only, it 
wasn't a convertible.  Very nice."
     "Thank you," was what Nick could think to 
say.
     Natalie walked back along the side of the 
car and ran a finger lightly along the tall tail-
fin.  "Biggest trunk of any car I've ever seen.  
Very roomie."   She walked back up to the 
passenger side door.  "Should I put the top up?" 
Nicholas asked.
     Natalie shook her head.  "On a starlight 
night like tonight?  No way.  One of the 
advantages of not spending a lot of money at a 
salon to get your hair done up is you don't care 
too much when it gets messed up.  So long as the 
messing is fun."
     Natalie put her cooler into the Caddy's 
back seat and opened her door.
     Nicholas kicked himself.  He'd wanted to 
open the door for her, but had been thrown by 
her interest in the Caddy itself.
     Natalie slipped in to the car and closed 
her door.
     "Comfy.  Just like I remember," Natalie 
said appreciately.
     Nicholas decided that they would get to 
their destination much quicker if he actually 
got into the car himself, which he did.
     The Caddy purred to life on the first try.
     Nicholas pulled the lap-belt on.  After a 
moment, Natalie did the same.
     Nick slipped the car into REVERSE and 
turned the headlights on.  He backed out of 
Natalie's driveway, put the Caddy in DRIVE and 
eased the accelerator down.
     The Moon awaited them.

SATURDAY June 17th 10:45 P.M.
     The Caddy eased into a parking spot and 
Nick switched the engine off.
     They were on the outskirts of Toronto, well 
back into the suburbs where it merged into 
countryside.
     Natalie looked around the small graveled 
parking lot, crowded with an eclectic assortment 
of cars.  "What is this place?"
     "A private park," Nicholas answered.  "A 
wealthy eccentric owned this area.  He built a 
small observatory up on the hilltop there."  
Nicholas gestured upwards into the moon-splashed 
darkness.  "When he passed away, he left a trust 
fund to support it.  It isn't Mount Palomar, but 
it is a nice place for amateurs.  We are far 
enough away from the lights of Toronto to see 
and it is
fairly convenient to get to."
     Natalie got out of the Caddy.  Nicholas 
joined her.  "So we walk up from here?" Natalie 
asked.
     "Yes, there is a path."  Nicholas took a 
small flashlight from his pocket and flicked it 
on.  "It isn't very far.  Maybe a mile or so."  
He reached into the Caddy and retrieved the 
small picnic basket he'd brought along, then 
gathered up Natalie's cooler.  "Would you prefer 
to carry the light so you can see better?" he 
offered.
     "No.  Thank you.  I have trouble seeing in 
bright sunlight, but that means my night-vision 
is very sharp.  I should be ok."
     They started up along the path.
     Nicholas reminded himself that he was a 
taller than Natalie and thus had the advantage 
of a longer stride.  He should walk a little 
slower than normal so as not to wear her out.
     Nicholas soon realized that Natalie wasn't 
kidding about her night-vision.  She seemed to 
have an easier time than Nick as she ducked 
under low branches and kept agile footing on 
moss-slicked rocks and gnarled roots.
     The path wound up the hillside, passing as 
a tunnel through the dense forest-cover.
     Along the last bit, the path was quite 
steep.  Nick was breathing quickly as they broke 
out into the hilltop clearing.  His professional 
ego - as a cop he was expected to keep in good 
physical shape - was somewhat miffed that 
Natalie didn't even seem to exert herself.  If 
anything, he was probably holding her back on 
the climb.
     The observatory on top of the hill was a 
small but elegant thing.
     A round cylinder out of field-stone stood 
some ten feet tall and was capped by a wide flat 
roof surrounded by railings.  A small knot of 
people stood on top of the observatory platform 
around a large portable telescope.  Other 
telescopes were set up on the ground around the 
observatory tower.  Still other people peered 
upwards with binoculars or telephoto zooms on 
cameras.
     The patch of lawn surrounding the 
observatory had been freshly mowed, the scent of 
the clippings hung in the dark air.
     Nicholas paused at the edge of the clearing 
to get his bearings and catch his breath a bit.  
Natalie stopped beside him and surveyed the 
small scattering of people.
     "Do you know anyone here?" she asked.
     "A few people.  I've come up here a number 
of times to get inspiration for paintings."
     "You paint?" Natalie lead.
     "Yes.  For some time now I've had an 
obsession with moonscapes.  Best place around to 
get a clear view of the Moon.  There are people 
up here with cameras who have been willing to 
have photos developed for me so I look at 
details later."
     "Did you bring anything to look with?" 
Natalie asked.
     "A good pair of field binoculars.  The 
people with the telescopes are also very 
friendly. They're very willing to let you sneak 
a peak with their equipment."
     The inside of the observatory was circled 
with benches and storage spaces.  Nicholas 
tucked the picnic basket and Natalie's cooler 
away, took the binoculars out of the picnic 
basket and they went up onto the roof via the 
internal staircase.
     Professor Robert Coolings, an astronomy 
professor that Nicholas knew, was holding court 
on the roof with his personal telescope.  
Nicholas waited for an opening and stepped 
forward to wish the Professor a good evening.
     Coolings was an almost stereotypical 
professor.  Sixties, frazzled white hair, 
spectacles.  Behind that carefully cultivated 
image was an extremely sharp mind and playful 
sense of humor.  "Nicholas!" Coolings greeted 
warmly, extending both hands.
     Nicholas clasped the hands.  "Good evening, 
Bob."  He released the professor's hands and 
turned to indicate Natalie.
     "Natalie Lambert, this is Professor Robert 
Coolings.  Bob, this is Doctor Natalie Lambert." 
 The two doctorates exchanged hand-shakes.  
Coolings was clearly charmed by Natalie.
     "Nicholas, you should really bring your 
friends more often if they look like this young 
lady," Coolings said.  Natalie smiled without 
embarrassment at the pleasant compliment.
     "Could we get some telescope time?" 
Nicholas asked.
     "Of course," Coolings said.  "You'll just 
have to wait in line a while.  There are a 
number of students here tonight."
     "No problem," Nicholas said.  "How long?"
     "Oh, maybe a half hour or so."
     "Fine.  We'll just look for now with 
binoculars."
     "Doctor?" a young woman at the telescope - 
apparently trying to work a camera through the 
view-finger - was calling.
     "The Teacher must Teach," Coolings smiled 
and walked over to deal with the problem.
     "Come over here," Nicholas asked Natalie, 
walking over to the railing.
     Nicholas handed Natalie the binoculars.  
She obligingly put to them to her eyes, craning 
her head far back to look up into the sky at the 
full moon.  After a half minute or so she spoke. 
 "I have looked at the Moon before, but I'm not 
really sure I really saw it.   It is beautiful.  
Thank you."
     "You're welcome," Nicholas said.

SATURDAY June 17th 12:10 P.M.
     Natalie leaned into Nicholas to jostle his 
shoulder with her own.
     It was a friendly way to get his attention.
     "I'm starved.  I need to eat," she said.
     "Fine by me.  Let's get the baskets."  
Nicholas lead down the staircase and he rounded 
up the cooler and picnic basket.
     "I've got a blanket in the basket.  Let's 
find a nice place and spread it out on the 
ground."
     Natalie's gaze was intent.  "Let's find a 
private place."
     Nicholas nodded.  "What the Lady wants..." 
and he lead the way outside.
     They walked across the small clearing and 
walked down a narrow pathway.  Nicholas leaned 
his head close enough to Natalie to whisper.  
"If you hear something in the woods, don't be 
alarmed.  This is called Lovers' Walk for a 
reason."
     Natalie stopped short.  "Nicholas.  I'm 
sorry if you misunderstood.  I want to be alone 
with you, but I'm not ready to go THAT far."
     Nicholas stopped and turned to face her.  
"Natalie, privacy so we could talk and be 
together is all I thought you wanted.  Just so 
we are operating on the same wave-length - I 
will be very uncomfortable if you do something 
just because I want to or you think I want you 
to.  I've got a lot of years left on this 
planet.  If things work, then we have time for 
anything.  If they don't work, then I am glad 
for the try, OK?  No pressure, no regrets. 
Agreed?"
     Natalie reached out and took Nicholas's 
hand.  Her fingers were cold.  "Agreed."  She 
stepped close.  "Thank you for the honesty."
     "You're welcome."
     Natalie linked her arm inside Nicholas's 
and they started down the walk again.
     At the end was a small clearing.  The Moon 
was well up and hovered over a stand of tall 
trees like a crown.  With eyes adapted to the 
darkness, it seemed to shine down like a search-
light.
     They spread the blanket out against the 
coolness of the ground.
     Nicholas opened the picnic basket.  "I did 
pack enough for two.  Any chance anything is OK? 
  Fresh vegetables. Cheese.  Bread.  Grapes.  
Oranges.  Chocolate?"
     Natalie shook her head.  "Nope.  Nothing I 
can touch."  She had her cooler open and 
extracted a wine bottle stripped of the label.  
She chuckled at Nicholas's look.  "It isn't 
wine, Nick.  My diet is liquid, but I'm not a 
lush.  After a while though, things get a little 
monotonous.  So a wine bottle makes for a 
special meal."  She also had a pair of very 
beautiful belled wine glasses.  "I brought 
glasses for both of us.  I assume you brought 
something to drink.
     Nicholas produced a bottle of real wine 
with a somewhat hang-dogged look.   "Well, I 
also have bottle water," he tried to defend 
himself.
     Natalie laughed.  "So long as you only have 
a glass or two, enjoy.  Now open that bottle and 
let's pour so it can breath."
     Nicholas applied a cork-screw and Natalie 
held a glass for him to pour.  She then set that 
glass by Nicholas and handled him the other 
glass and opened her bottle.  Nicholas held her 
glass while Natalie poured it full. 
     Natalie put her bottle aside and Nicholas 
handed the wine glass to her.
     Immediately, Natalie took a deep swallow.
     "Mmmm," she hissed.  "Hungry."
     Nicholas decided he agreed with that 
assertation and cut a chunk of cheese off the 
wedge he'd brought and started to eat it.
     They sat in silence, absorbed in taking the 
edge off their respective appetites for some 
minutes.
     Natalie reached for her bottle again.
     "What do you do to relax, Nicholas?"
     "Mmmphhah," Nicholas said around mouth-ful 
of fresh orange.  He chewed and swallowed.  "I 
like to paint in oils.  Moonscapes at the 
moment, as I said earlier.  I play classical 
piano fairly well.  Mmmm.   I like to watch 
movies.  And I think I'm a fairly good cook.  Any
shared interests there?"
     The clink of the wine-glass against bottle 
was delicate in the night.
     "I don't paint, but I do like nice 
paintings.  Same for piano.  Although I tend 
more toward jazz.  I like movies too, but the 
cooking is totally lost on me.  Its been so long 
since I could eat anything I've almost lost the 
memories of what foods taste like."
     Natalie sipped from the fresh-filled glass.
     "Nicholas.  Would you talk with me about 
Tracy Vetter?"
     Nick put down his own wine glass carefully. 
 Natalie was looking straight at him, waiting.
     Nicholas wrinkled his mouth.  "Yes.  I 
will.  Up to a point.  What do you want to know?"
     "Why did you separate from her so abruptly? 
 The general consciences was that a marriage was 
soon." 
     Nicholas shifted on the blanket, crossed 
his legs at the knee Indian-style to hold a 
paper-plate in his lap.  Natalie sipped again 
from her glass. Wondering if he would answer her.
     When he looked at her again, his voice was 
steady.
     "If our separation appeared abrupt, it was 
only because we were both very good at keeping 
things private.  It was not easy to be involved 
and be working out of the same station house.  
Discretion was something we both value.  Tracy 
more than me.  It wasn't easy for her to be a 
detective in Toronto with her father as 
Commissioner.  And harder to be intimately 
involved with someone she worked with.  She let 
me kiss her a total of three times in the 
station house.  We kept to ourselves off-duty.  
We didn't do much as a couple that involved the 
other officers on the force."
     "Yes," Natalie remarked since some approval 
seemed appropriate.  "It took quite a while for 
people to figure out that anything was going on 
between you two."
     Nicholas nodded.  "Well, it also took a 
while for things to go bad on us.  Things were 
good for a time.  Tracy and I complimented each 
other well.  Covered for each other's 
weaknesses.  Made bad times good.  It was only 
when we both realized that things were serious
that trouble set in.  When we stopped thinking 
about what would we do next week and started 
thinking about what we would do in three years."
     Nicholas looked straight into Natalie's 
face.
     "I am the cause of our separation, Natalie. 
 I asked Tracy for something she couldn't 
provide me."
     "Her father is a controlling man.  He has 
never really awoken to the fact that his little 
girl is a grown woman with a life of her own.  
He is very good at jerking her around to behave 
in the manner he wants.  When I realized that 
the depths of the emotional bonds I was forming, 
I realized that there was a problem.  I wouldn't 
be able to accept this manipulation of her life  
- and by extension my own - if we were together 
permanently.  I thought about things very hard 
before I told Tracy how I felt.
     "It was a raw and rainy Saturday.  
     "I gave Tracy an ultimatum.
     "We would leave Toronto together.  Go 
somewhere else to live.  Somewhere away from her 
father.  Where distance could provide her the 
room to live.  If she wasn't willing to do this, 
I would leave her.  I gave her a month to make a 
decision.  I tried to be honest with her, 
Natalie, hard as that was on Tracy.  I told her 
what my limits were, what I could accept.  I 
didn't play head games.  I had always tried to 
support her.  I didn't withdraw that support 
during the month I gave her."
     They sat quietly.  Then Natalie asked, "And 
at the end of the month, she said no?"
     "At the end of the month, she asked for 
another month," Nicholas corrected.  "That was 
how painful the decision was to her.  Either way 
was too much for her to deal with.  She tried to 
delay having to make a decision at all."
     "And what did you do?" Natalie probed.
     "I kissed her, said 'No' and walked out of 
her apartment."
     The pain of that moment hung in the night 
air between Nicholas and Natalie.
     Nicholas sipped from his wine-glass.  "I 
drove around Toronto after that for some hours 
and then went home.  I hoped that the shock of 
what I had done would have provoked Tracy.  I 
hoped to return to my loft to find the answering 
machine with a message from Tracy that would
lay a ground work for us.  It hurt me a lot to 
leave her, Natalie.  At that point, I would have 
accepted staying in Toronto if I thought she was 
ready to seriously work at stopping her father's 
interferences in her life.
     "The machine was empty."
     Nick ate a piece of cheese.
     Natalie swirled the fluid in her wine glass.
     "That was what?  Two months ago?"
     "Yes, something like that."
     "Is it why you started to work the night 
shift?"
     "Yes.  It was too painful to work days in 
the same station house with her.  Too awkward.  
The night-shift has trouble keeping people.  It 
was easy to get approval to switch shifts."
     "Have you seen her since?  Outside the 
station, I mean?"
     Nicholas said nothing for about ten seconds.
     "Yes.  Once.  Three weeks after I walked 
out on her.  Tracy showed up on my door-step.  
She was crying and desperate to see me.  I 
couldn't leave her out there in the night 
begging into my intercom.  I had to let her in.  
Then things got complicated.  I finally let her 
sleep with me, but I refused to be intimate with 
her.  She cried herself to sleep on my shoulder. 
 I left before she did in the morning.  She took 
the tee-shirt I was wearing that night and never 
mentioned it later."
     Natalie started to speak.  Found she 
couldn't.  Then tried again.  "Do you still love 
her."
     "Yes, Natalie.  I do, to a certain degree.  
I do not think I could turn her away if she was 
in that sort of pain and I thought spending a 
night with me could help her heal.  I can not 
casually slap aside someone who gave me what she 
did.
     "But, I also am not holding a torch for 
her.  She will not leave her father.  I can not 
live with her if she does not.  I realize the 
impossibility.  Tracy wants me, but she needs 
her father far more.  I feel I have an 
obligation to her in certain regards, but I 
don't think we will ever have a relationship 
again."
     "We can't live together.  I have already 
accepted that.  Tracy will, but it will take her 
time - during which I might have to help her 
again."
     Nicholas's gaze was very steady.  Very 
adult.  "Is this a problem for us?"
     Natalie did have to think about that.
     "No," she said at last.  "I think I would 
like it a lot less if you just dumped her and 
ran.  I have a hard time finding fault with your 
compassion.  And, your honesty with me."  
Natalie sipped thoughtfully from her glass.  "If 
things go on between us, you have to keep being 
honest with me.  I can accept a lot if I can 
trust your word.  If I think you are lying to me 
or concealing things, there would be problems."
     Nicholas nodded.  "Fine.  I can accept 
that."
     He smiled wryly.  "So, how am I doing on 
the test?"
     "What test?" Natalie returned immediately.
     "The relationship test.  The little list of 
questions you've got in your head that you are 
slipping into conversation to see how I answer 
and add the points up.  Am I doing all right?"
     Natalie smiled.  "Not bad at all.  You 
definitely know how to END a relationship well."
     Nicholas took that bantering comment with a 
grin and ate another piece of cheese.
     "Well," he said.  "You do have me at a 
disadvantage."
     "How so?"
     "I am a homicide cop in this city and not a 
bad one.  And I can't find much out about YOUR 
relationships.
     "Family?  Friends?  Old boyfriends?  I'm 
actually rather glad that I knew about Sydney 
before I met him or my professional ego would be 
totally crushed."
     "Not a lot to tell, Nicholas.  I keep a 
fairly low profile myself."  Natalie swirled her 
wine-glass and looked out into the dark woods.
     "All of my immediate family are long gone.  
Father, mother, brother...    I have a couple 
of...well... blood-kin I guess you'd say, who 
are really the only family I have left anymore.  
Sort of a surrogate stepfather and sister.   We 
get together every once and a while.  We are all 
pretty busy so our contacts are infrequent.
     "I've been between relationships for quite 
a while.  The last one ended very messily and I 
haven't had the heart to take the risks again."
     "So, you are alone?" Nicholas asked.
     Natalie nodded.  "Yes.  I have dug myself a 
hole and crawled into it.  It took a friend 
giving me a friendly kick to get me here."
     Nicholas nodded.  "You'll have to tell me 
who that friend is so I can thank them."
     "I think I have to thank them first, Mr. 
Knight," Natalie said with a smile in her voice. 
 "Now, would you please refill my glass for me?"
     And Nicholas did.

Sunday June 18th 4:30 A.M.
     What was a very nice evening came to an 
embarrassing, hissing halt.
     Nicholas pulled the Caddy over into the 
break-down lane while steam geysered from around 
the seams of the Cadillac's hood.
     They rolled down to a halt and a billowing 
cloud of sweat antifreeze steam enveloped 
Natalie and Nicholas.
     Natalie looked over.  "I'll admit this is 
more creative than the old 'run out of gas' 
ploy, Nicholas."  She was trying to be funny and 
 relaxing, but it didn't work very well.
     Nicholas flashed a tense, embarrassed smile 
and bound out of the Caddy.
     Natalie thought a moment, then opened the 
glove-box.  There was a narrow flashlight.  She 
took that and got out of the car as Nicholas  
yelped and swore once at himself while lifting 
the hood.  With the flashlight, they rapidly 
found the problem.  The hose connecting the
water-pump to the radiator had split at the 
radiator end, venting coolant onto the ground.
     "Got a spare hose?" Natalie asked.
     "No, but I do have a couple of jugs of anti-
freeze and a knife.  This hose should still 
reach if I cut it off at the end of the split.  
I can then reclamp it and we can get home again. 
 We just have to wait while this thing cools 
down enough to work on."
     Natalie stepped back from the hissing 
motor.  "OK, we have a plan.  Come and sit here 
on the guardrail - out of the way - and we'll 
just keep talking."
     There was nothing else to do, so Nicholas 
compiled.

Sunday June 18th 5:40 A.M.
     "Nicholas.  Stop the car," Natalie ordered 
sharply.
     Nick glanced around for what was wrong.  No 
steam rose from the hood.  The temperature gauge 
was steady.  With the hose cut-off and reclamped 
and more coolant in the radiator, the Cadillac 
was acting like nothing was wrong.
     "Why?  What's wrong."
     "Stop the car!" Natalie ordered, turning to 
face him head-on.
     Confused, Nick turned on his blinker and 
slid right and down onto the shoulder again to a 
stop.
     With the car safely motionless, he turned 
to look at Natalie.
     "What is wrong?"
     Natalie's gaze was fixed with 
concentration.  Nicholas felt himself falling 
into her eyes. "Nothing is wrong.  Everything is 
proper.  I just need to ride in the trunk.  You 
will drive to your home and park in the garage 
and let me out and I will spend the day with 
you."
     Nicholas blinked.  "Ride in the trunk?"
     Natalie recoiled in a surprise that was 
masked by Nicholas's general confusion.
     "Why do you want to ride in the trunk?" 
Nicholas asked.
     Mind a blur, Natalie gestured at the 
lightening horizon.  "Dawn is coming up, 
Nicholas.  I can feel the sun already on my 
skin.  I've got to get inside to the dark.  The 
only safe place out here is in your trunk.  I 
can't walk from a car to the door in the sun.  
Unless I spend the day in your trunk, I need a 
garage to get out.  My garage has my car in it.  
We need to go to your place. OK?"
     She didn't wait for his answer, just got 
out of the Cadillac and walked toward the back.
     After a moment, Nicholas stepped out of the 
car.
     "You're serious," he said.
     Natalie nodded grimly.
     Nick considered and reached in to get the 
picnic blanket out of the Caddy's rear-seat.  He 
opened the trunk and spread the blanket out on 
the hard trunk floor.  Natalie gracefully 
climbed up into the trunk and curled over onto 
her side like a reclining cat.
     "Try to avoid the pot-holes," she said, 
reaching up to pull the trunk safely down over 
her.
     Nick stood for a moment on the side of the 
road before he shook his head and got back into 
the Cadillac.
     He flashed his blinker and pulled back up 
onto the road and continued toward Toronto below 
a brightening dawn sky.

Sunday June 18th 6:10 A.M.
     The Cadillac purred into its garage.
     Nicholas flipped the door-close button and 
shut the Caddy's engine down as the electric 
motor started to shut the large loading dock 
door.
     Nick took his keys from the ignition and 
went to the Caddy's trunk and opened it.
     Natalie rolled over partially onto her back.
     "Nick, we have to be very careful.  Direct 
sunlight is very dangerous for me.  Any windows 
have to be heavily-draped and shuttered.  Will 
you go ahead of me and get any window closed 
off?"
     "We have a problem right here, Natalie.  
There are windows in this door at my back, and I 
don't have shutters down here in the garage."
     Natalie started to wiggle and pull at the 
blanket under her.
     "If I am quick and put this over me, I 
should be OK.  The stronger the light the worse 
my problem.  Cut the light and you cut my 
problem."
     Natalie had the blanket in her hands.  She 
swarmed up out of the trunk and in a whirl had 
the blanket about her head and shoulders, 
peering forth from the dark recess like a monk 
in his hood.
     She immediately went around the Caddy's 
side and deeper into the gloom of the garage, 
Nicholas slamming the trunk closed and following 
her.
     Nick caught up and led the way to the 
elevator up to the loft.
     "I left the window shades open," Nicholas 
explained.  "Should I take the elevator up first 
and get them closed before you come up or do you 
just want to wait in the elevator while I close 
them?"
     In the windowless area at the elevator's 
foot, Natalie had the blanket wrapped around her 
shoulders like shawl.  She looked more 
comfortable with brick and mortar between 
herself and the sun, but still uneasy.  "I'd 
prefer that the windows were closed before I go 
upstairs," she said.
     Nick took the elevator up to his loft, 
found the remote and made sure all the window-
shades had closed before he went back down to 
the ground floor to get Natalie.
     "All set," he said.
     When the elevator doors opened to the deep 
gloom of Nick's loft - a lone lamp throwing a 
circle of light by the fire-place - Natalie's 
face visibly relaxed.  But her shoulders looked 
tight.
     And the muscles were incredibly stiff when 
Nick started massaging them.
     Natalie flinched at the abruptness of his 
hands, then arched her neck back as Nick dug 
into the hard muscles along the back-bone.
     "Sorry I didn't think of what was happening 
back on the high-way," Nicholas said.  "I'm not 
use to thinking of the morning sun as 
dangerous."  His hands were soothing on 
Natalie's body.
     Natalie's eyes were slitting with the warm 
heat of his caressing fingers.
     "MMmm.  Apology gratefully accepted.  Would 
you have a couch where we could do this, instead 
of the elevator."
     Nick laughed and took the blanket off her 
shoulders.
     "Why don't you make yourself to home.  Find 
the stereo and put some good music on.  I'll go 
down to the car and get the picnic baskets so I 
can get stuff into the fridge before it spoils.  
OK?"
     "So long as I get the rest of my back 
done," Natalie said in agreement and stepped off 
into the loft.
     Nick hit the down button.
     As he rode the elevator down, he had a 
silly child's melody singing in his head.  And 
he realized it had been months since he had felt 
so at ease with the world.
     Nick gathered up the basket and cooler from 
the Caddy and checked to be sure that the door 
was secured.
     He walked back to the elevator and pushed 
the UP button with his thumb since both hands 
were full.
     The door opened and Alyce was standing in 
the elevator.  She held a snub-nosed revolver in 
her right hand, dangling beside her hip, muzzle 
pointed into the floor.  She smiled at Nicholas.
     "Get in," she said.  
     "Give me the gun," Nicholas said.
     Alyce shook her head.  "No.  You have a 
choice.  Get in and go up with me.  I don't 
think I'll need the gun then at all.  Or, stay 
here while I go up and deal with your girlfriend 
the vampire."
     Nicholas considered.  There was a hard edge 
to Alyce that hadn't been present before. She 
was dangerous and he had to be careful.  He 
stooped to put the picnic basket and cooler down.
     "No," Alyce stopped him with her voice.  
"Hold onto that stuff.  Occupy your hands."
     Nicholas nodded and stepped into the 
elevator; Alyce backed as far away from him as 
possible.
     Alyce touched the UP button and the 
elevator started to rise.
     "What are you going to do?" Nicholas asked 
warily.
     "I am going to reveal your doctor for the 
vampire that she is before you fall completely 
under her spell."
     "And how to you intend to do that, shoot 
her?" Nicholas' voice was harsh.
     "No.  Nothing so melodramatic.  Nothing so 
dangerous to myself.  If I say I'm going to 
shoot her you will do whatever you can to stop 
me.  I intend to ask her to hold this."  Alyce 
reached in her jacket pocket with her left hand 
and when she opened her fist a crucifix lay in 
it.  "No person would object to just holding a 
cross to prove me wrong.  Any vampire will burn 
badly with contact."     
     "And the gun?" Nicholas wanted to know.
     "It was Peter's.  It shoots a wooden dart 
with a captive-piston silent cartridge.  It 
won't kill a vampire quickly, but a couple of 
wooden stakes in the heart will slow it down.  
When Natalie refuses to handle the cross, she 
might attack us.  I intend to give the gun to 
you if it is possible.  If something happens to 
me and you can get the gun...there is a speed-
loader in each pocket of my jacket."
     The elevator stopped at the loft level.
     Alyce pulled the door open and Nicholas 
walked out into the loft.
     Natalie stood by the fireplace.  She turned 
to the elevator as Nicholas came in.
     In that moment, seeing her in the dim 
twilight, face soft and delicate in the comfort 
of his own home, Nicholas realized how far he'd 
go to protect her.
     Nicholas knew that Alyce had stepped out of 
the elevator at his back by the change in 
expression on Natalie's face.
     "What is going on," Natalie asked.
     Nicholas shifted his grip on the cooler in 
his right hand.  If he got the opportunity, he 
could throw it into Alyce' face and go after the 
gun in her confusion.
     "Natalie.  This is Alyce Hunter.  She is a 
friend of Peter Vincent.  The man who was killed 
at the Raven on Monday."  Nicholas turned 
sideways to he could watch both women. "Alyce 
thinks that Toronto is home to vampire colony 
and that you are a vampire.  She wishes to
prove this to me."
     Natalie absorbed this and considered Alyce 
with a single, penetrating gaze.
     Alyce shifted the grip on the pistol she 
still held aimed at the floor.
     Natalie turned away from Alyce to look at 
the crucifix Nicholas had hanging on the wall by 
the fireplace.  "Nicholas, what is the history 
of this cross?"
     Nicholas looked at Alyce.  Who did nothing. 
 "It is an old family heirloom," Nicholas said.  
"It dates from the time of the Crusades when my 
mother's family lived in France.  The family 
legend says that it was given to a relative who 
was a Knight by a beautiful woman as a
talism for his safe return to her.  The legend 
is that the talism failed.  He never returned to 
the lady who gave it to him."
     Natalie smiled.  "Legends are wrong."
     She turned abruptly to face Natalie and 
Alyce again.
     "When you prove I am a vampire, what do you 
intend to do, Miss Hunter?  Kill me?"  Natalie's 
voice got more scathing as she spoke.
     Alyce shifted uneasily.
     "No.  Nicholas will probably have to do 
that."
     Natalie looked at Nicholas and moved 
forward a few feet closer to Alyce and her gun.  
Her gaze was very penetrating and alert and the 
pressure of it bore on Alyce when Natalie looked 
at her.
     "And why is it necessary to kill me?"
     "Because you are a vampire."
     "So you are judging me based upon my 
genetic makeup and deciding to kill me on that 
basis?  That smacks of eugenics or ethnic 
cleansing."
     "Vampires are killers," Alyce said.  "They 
are a danger.  They must be eliminated in the 
same way a man-eating tiger or crocodile would 
be killed."
     "That is a very limited attitude.  It 
assumes that there is no redemption for killers. 
 No way that they stop killing and pay back for 
the harm they have done.  You are a vampire. 
Therefore, you must die.  No judge, no jury.  
Just judgement. 
     "Shouldn't you hear the side of the 
accused, Miss Hunter?  Understand what it is 
that you seek to kill?"
     Natalie's voice was terrifying in its 
deadly seriousness.
     Nicholas wondered if he was going crazy.  
He sought to rationalize things.
     "But there is no thing as vampires," he 
said.
     Natalie looked at him and smiled.
     "Yes, Nicholas.  There are."
     Natalie lifted her arms and gently brought 
her hands down toward the ground in a pushing 
motion.  She rose into the air.  And hovered 
three feet off the ground.  Her beautiful eyes 
shifted to liquid gold and her fangs dropped 
into razored curves.
     She glided forward in the air a few feet 
and then settled back to the floor, eyes ablaze 
and fangs wet.
     "Behold," she spoke in a harsh, almost 
animal growl around her fangs.  "The subject of 
nightmare given form."
     Natalie closed her eyes.  When she opened 
them, the vampiric glare was gone.  In a few 
moments, her open lips didn't reveal fangs.
     She turned somber eyes to a completely 
startled Nicholas and a blatantly terrified 
Alyce.
     "That was no illusion.  No trick of the 
lights," Natalie said to Nicholas.  "I can 
repeat it if you don't believe.  Do you believe 
that I am a vampire?"
     Nicholas shook his head as it to clear his 
eyes.  "That was incredible.  I want to say it 
didn't happen.  But it did.  If am woman who can 
fly and sprout fangs at will tells me that she 
is a vampire, then she is a vampire."
     "Good,"  Natalie said.  "Then we all agree 
upon what I am.  Now we all have to agree upon 
what I am not."
     Natalie turned her gaze to Alyce.
     "Alyce.  I was made a vampire over eight 
hundred years ago.  I spent hundreds of years 
reveling in the life-style.  Hunting humans for 
sport as well as food.   Killing whoever I 
thought would be tasty or different.
     "Over a hundred years ago, I started 
listening to the last pieces of my soul. It has 
been decades since I tasted human blood that 
wasn't freely offered to me by someone who knew 
what I was or was donating to help those in 
need.  In that time I've harmed only a very 
small handful who were seeking to do me harm 
first.
     "I have held a string of medical jobs and 
as a forensic examiner for this city I have 
helped bring a lot of bad people to justice so 
they can harm no one else.
     "I am working to repay the debt that 
centuries of murder have caused."
     Natalie walked slowly over to stand within 
an arm's length of Alyce.
     "You've lost someone who meant a great deal 
to you.
     "Over seven hundred years ago, I lost 
someone who meant a great deal to me.  A French 
Knight named de Brabant.  Nicholas de Brabant.  
That cross," Natalie pointed to the relic 
hanging on Nicholas' wall, "was a gift from me 
to that Knight.  He died with that cross under 
his
armor.  I had known him only a few hours, but I 
grieved for him so hard I was in physical pain.
     "With the centuries to reflect, I've 
realized that I hurt so bad because my 
subconscience saw him as my redemption.  A man 
of sufficient power of will and character to 
help rid me of the vampiric nature that is 
destroying my soul."
     "I lost that man once, Alyce. 
     "Somehow, someway, he has returned to me. 
     "Nicholas Knight is Nicholas de Brabant."
     Natalie brought her templed fingers to her 
mouth for a moment as if she was praying.  
Nicholas wondered if she even realized what she 
had done as Natalie turned to include him in her 
plea.
     "Alyce. I want my own children.  I want to 
be able to see a sunrise again.  The darkness 
that is the world of a vampire has darkened my 
soul.  I want very much to step back into the 
light. Nicholas and you are the key to that.  I 
can not regain my mortality if you are dogging 
my steps or I have to add your life to those 
that I have spent.  I need you to forgive me and 
leave me in peace.
     She turned to Nick and faced him head-on, 
ignoring Alyce and the danger of the gun she 
carried.
     "Nicholas.  I know you are not 800 years 
old, but your spirit or soul is.  You physically 
and mentally are the same man I knew as Nicholas 
de Brabant.  I don't know how, but I know that 
you are the same man.  The valorous Knight who 
promised me that he would return to my side even 
from the deepest depths of  Hell.  Our souls 
match.  I can feel that even if you can not. I 
need you, Nicholas.  I need someone willing to 
help me push back the night.  You can give me 
the faith and hope that I no longer have enough 
of."
     Natalie tossed her hair lightly and a 
shiver ran through her back.
     "This ends today," Natalie said.  "I have 
no further stomach for the life I'm leading.  I 
need a question answered by each of you.  Alyce, 
can you leave me in peace?  Nicholas, can I ever 
be as strong a partner to you as Tracy was?"
     "If I can't face the coming night with 
Nicholas willing to be at my side and no fear of 
being uncovered as a vampire, then I will make 
things easier on us all.
     "I will walk out into the morning sun and 
implode."
     Natalie inhaled and exhaled and waited.
     After some moments, she spoke to Alyce.  
"Can you leave me in peace?"
     Alyce gestured with her free hand toward 
Nicholas.  "You love him?"
     "Yes."
     Alyce brought her pocketbook in front of 
her hip and tucked the revolver away inside it.  
Her eyes were damp and her hand shuddered with 
suppressed emotions.  "You are not what attacked 
me that night in the library.  I will leave you 
in peace."
     Natalie turned to Alyce.  "Nicholas?"
     Nicholas grimaced slightly.  "You are 
asking a lot, Natalie."
     "Yes.  More than you even realize," she 
said.  "But will you give me the chance?  The 
time to show you what I know?"
     There was no option really.  "Yes," 
Nicholas said.  "I'll give you the chance."
     And then he added, without conscious 
thought and to his own surprise,  "My beloved."
     Natalie smiled.

        

 Tim Phillips
 timp@dec.anr.state.vt.us