Plaudits, flames and other comments to LECF@aol.com (It's my first fiction posting, so please be gentle!) Night Passages The Raven stood dark and empty. Nothing remained to remind its owner of the cheerful, raucous crowd which had filled it mere hours before. As she had done for the past three nights, Janette had shooed the other denizens of the club out the door at closing time, allowing her guest some privacy for his somber thoughts. It was not an altruistic gesture on her part. Given his mood of late, her mentor was even more dangerous than usual, and Janette had sense enough to realize it. She sat pensively in her accustomed perch by the bar, sipping from a glass without really tasting it. Now and then she glanced up and frowned as she contemplated the rear of the bar where light spilled softly through the open doorway to her private room. With an unvoiced sigh, she turned back to her glass, consigning this lovers' holiday to the nethermost regions of hell. Alone in the inner sanctum, Lacroix angled his glass of wine-mixed blood, admiring the way the fine crystal sparkled as it caught the light. "Just like the stars," he murmured to no one. His defenses weakened momentarily, and the unwanted memories flooded back, no longer held at bay. "Damn him." He hurled the glass at the far wall, where it shattered into a thousand fragments. Janette, hearing the noise, rushed in the door. She stared at the glistening mess now decorating the wall and floor and started to curse under her breath. "Really, mon cher," she couldn't help scolding. "After two thousand years, you should have learned some self-control." His eyes burned into her. She involuntarily backed up a step and raised a placating hand. "All right, never mind. Shall I get you another glass?" "Don't bother. But more wine would be appreciated." Lacroix forcibly reined in his emotions, and his eyes returned to the cold, dead stare that passed for normality with him. Janette breathed a sigh of relief as she hastened to carry out the request. She soon returned with a bottle and two glasses, ignoring his words. She silently filled both glasses with the blood/wine mixture, then placed one on the table before him, together with the bottle. Lacroix contemplated the glass with a bitter stare. "Damn him," he repeated, though without the earlier heat. Janette had been on her way out the door, but his words stopped her in her tracks. She turned back to face him. "You've been fighting with Nicholas." It was not a question. Lacroix uttered a snort that she took as an affirmative response. Janette slowly retraced her steps. "What happened?" "What ever happens? We argued, we fought. Same old story." He lifted the crystal and drained it, poured himself another. "What about?" "Hmm." "What did you fight about?" She seated herself at the table across from him. "Love." He spat the word with a twisted sneer, as he drained another glass. "I invited a friend of his to dinner, and he took exception." "Doctor Lambert?" Janette hissed the name in astonishment as she leaned forward. "What have you done? Did you bring her across?" "What?" It was obvious Lacroix's thoughts were elsewhere; it took a moment for him to realize she had asked a question. "No, of course not. This is hardly the time or place to be carrying out conversions." "At least you showed some sense. Lacroix, our Nicholas cares deeply for that mortal. I would think you might have realized the dangers of meddling with his affections after that debacle with the Clochet child." Lacroix looked up in surprise. "He told you about that?" "I had to pry it out of him, but yes. He told me. Almost one hundred years, Lacroix, and he still hasn't returned to us. What were you thinking? Do you want to lose him completely?" "What was I thinking?" Lacroix rose to his feet and began pacing the room which was suddenly too small to contain his emotions. "I was thinking that we had an agreement, and that, as usual, he was trying to weasel out of it." "An agreement?" "For Fleur. He owed me for Fleur. He agreed to it, damn him!" "Agreed to what?" "A fair exchange. His beloved for mine. If he ever knows love for a mortal, something I am beginning to doubt." He stopped pacing long enough to glare at her. "I don't expect you to understand. You have never loved." "No?" One word only, and softly spoken, but this time it was Lacroix who looked away. "I am sorry. That was unfair." "No. It is true. My feelings for Nicholas are different, as are the circumstances. I have never loved, not the way you mean. Not like you and Fleur. My mortal life taught me that much, at least." His face twisted. "In that, you are fortunate." "In that. And in other things." Janette approached her mentor and guided him back into the chair. She stood behind him, gently caressing his neck and shoulders, trying to soothe him. "I made my decision and never looked back. I am happy with my life. Not like our poor, tormented Nicholas." Her stroking had a calming effect; Lacroix slowly relaxed as he leaned into her touch. "You are a fine daughter, Janette. I fear I don't appreciate you as I should." She shrugged. "The problem child demands most of a parent's attention. It is only natural. So. What happened with Doctor Lambert?" Despite himself, Lacroix smiled at the recollection. "We had a very interesting conversation. I admit, I half expected her to run away the moment I introduced myself." Janette smiled as she claimed the seat opposite her master and retrieved her glass. "She didn't though, did she?" "No. She seemed to view our meeting as a challenge and an opportunity. Her curiosity quite outweighed her fear." He peered closely at Janette. "You know her, don't you?" "We've met a few times." "And you like her. I can tell." Janette shrugged, conceding the point as she sipped at her wine. "I understand. Nicholas' taste is improving. I found her quite fascinating, for a mortal. She may even be worthy of immortality some day. A pity we had so little time together." "Because Nicholas arrived," she guessed. "Yes. I felt him coming, so I entranced her. Our business was none of her concern. I reminded Nicholas of our bargain. He has never understood what I suffered, what I still suffer on account of his sister. For one night, I wanted him to know that pain, to suffer as I have. I thought that by threatening the woman he loved, he might at least begin to understand." He grimaced. "A foolish thought, but it seemed logical at the time." "And?" "And he denied he was in love with her. Claimed to be using her "infatuation with him", as he described it, for his own purposes. I thought to call his bluff, so I demanded that he prove his indifference by bringing he r across. And he agreed." "He agreed?" Janette choked on her wine. "Nicholas?!" "Shocking, isn't it? Our Nicholas, who in eight hundred years has always refused my orders to bring someone across, whether friend, foe or perfect stranger. I expected him to make some feeble effort to escape with her, or at least to attack me again. Perhaps even utter some mulish plea for mercy. In some way, acknowledge his concern, his fear. His pain." He shook his head. "Instead, he agrees. And then begins to follow through." Janette stared at Lacroix. "He didn't...you didn't...you stopped him?" "Of course I stopped him. I can't say whether he would have brought her across or killed her outright, but either would have been a disaster. The dinner reservation was in my name. The young lady is a figure of local importance. Her death or disappearance in such suspicious circumstances would raise far too many awkward questions for our kind. Besides which our Nicholas is incapable of bringing anyone across successfully. He hasn't developed the strength of mind, nor the will to exercise it properly. I was forced to concede the game to him. He is doubtless comfortably settled in her apartment right now, whispering sweet nothings and enjoying his latest triumph over me." He drained another glass in one motion and refilled it, then looked at the empty bottle expectantly. Janette sighed. At the rate Lacroix was consuming her private stock, she'd have to arrange for a supplemental shipment before the end of the month. "Does it help?" she inquired curiously. "The alcohol, I mean? I find the taste pleasurable, but it has never seemed to affect me as it does mortals." "Not really," he confessed. "But it does make me tired, and that blurs the pain. Somewhat." <> Janette felt the approaching presence and looked surreptitiously at Lacroix, but her master seemed not to have noticed. That was most unusual. Perhaps the wine was indeed having an effect. She frowned. Ordinarily she would have welcomed their visitor, but tonight his arrival seemed an awkward and unwarranted intrusion. "I'll get some more wine." She silently considered how to evict their unwelcome visitor as she picked up the empty bottle and headed for the bar. But she was too late, for as she reached the doorway, she found the entry already blocked. His befuddled senses finally reacting, Lacroix looked up, tired and spent with the emotional turmoil of the past few days. He stared with disbelieving eyes at his errant son, wondering if his presence were a trick of the wine. "Who invited you?" "Who invited you?" Nicholas stared at the slumped figure in the chair. His vampire father looked more exhausted than Nick ever remembered seeing him. "We have unfinished business," Nick replied. "Go home, Nicholas." Janette put an arm around Nicholas' shoulders and tried to lead him out of the room, but he shook her off. "No, Janette. Lacroix and I have matters to discuss." "Not tonight," she said firmly, still refusing to let go. "Anything you want to say can wait. Your friend is all right, is she not?" "Nat? Yeah, she's fine. No thanks to him." He glared at Lacroix. "Do you know what he did?" "Yes. I know. Which is more than you do. Now go home, Nicholas. Neither Lacroix nor I is in the mood to listen to your whining right now." "Whining! Janette, he almost killed Nat tonight. And then he almost forced me to do it for him." "Did he?" Nick noticed that Janette sounded neither surprised nor convinced. "I thought you said she was all right." "Only because I ..." he choked on the words. "Because you lied?" Janette suggested. "Because you denied your feelings, both to him and yourself?" At that remark, Lacroix looked up from his drink for only the second time since Nick's unexpected arrival with a contemptuous snort, before returning his gaze to the table before him. "I don't know!" Nick admitted. "I don't know what I feel. But I couldn't let him have her. I will not let you have her, Lacroix," he warned. "Whatever it takes. Leave Natalie alone, you hear me?" Lacroix growled inaudibly as he shook his head in irritation. As he'd thought, the boy had totally missed the point. As usual. Janette turned to Lacroix. "Tell him," she ordered. <> "You might as well, you know. He'll give you no peace until you do." Lacroix shook his head. "You tell him if you're so set on it." "Tell me what?" Nick demanded suspiciously. "Lacroix never had any intention of bringing your friend Natalie across." "I don't believe you. I know what I saw." "You saw what you wanted to see," Janette spoke with exasperation. "Mon cher, Lacroix made the dinner reservations in his own name. Would he have done that if he had designs upon your Natalie?" Nick stared at Janette, then at Lacroix. The Code was explicit about conditions for killings and conversions in the modern era, and whatever else he did, the vampire master always adhered to the Code. "Is that true?" Lacroix shrugged. "And if it is?" "Then why the elaborate charade? What was the point?" Lacroix grimaced. "Ah yes. The point." He downed the rest of his drink. "I thought you were getting another bottle," he reminded Janette. She glowered at them both before leaving the room. "You were saying, Lacroix?" Nick demanded when his father subsided into silence. "Does it matter? Your friend is safe, that's all that concerns you isn't it? It's all that ever does." The elder vampire spoke with bitter sarcasm. "It matters. I need to know if you're going to come after her again. Tomorrow, perhaps, or next week, or next year?" "No. I am not. Feel better now, do we? Then go away, and leave me in peace." He almost snatched the new bottle from Janette's hands, poured out another glass and drained it in a single motion. He immediately refilled the glass. Nick frowned as he looked at Janette. "How much wine has he had?" he asked, with grudging concern. Janette shrugged. "That's his third bottle since he arrived tonight. I can't answer for what he may have drunk before that." "Don't you think you've had enough?" Nick walked slowly toward the table where his father was seated. Lacroix actually paused for a moment as though giving the question some consideration. "No. I don't think so. I can still remember." He drained another glass and refilled it.. "What is he talking about?" Nick asked Janette in confusion. Assured by them both that Nat was safe and would remain so, he suddenly realized there were other things going on. And it seemed that Lacroix had no intention of enlightening him. Janette glared at him. She truly loved Nicholas, but there were times she didn't like him at all. "You really don't know, do you?" she remarked scornfully. "If I did, I wouldn't need to ask, would I?" He spoke with that sheepish, little boy grin that made her want to simultaneously cuddle and throttle him. He studied Lacroix uneasily, thinking back to their confrontation at the restaurant. "Is this something to do with my sister?" Lacroix suddenly laughed. It was a harsh, discordant sound in the otherwise silent club. "Something. Oh, bravo, Nicholas. Clever boy." He again reached for the bottle, but this time Nick intercepted it. They glared at one another resentfully. "What are you trying to prove?" Nick demanded. "Let go." Lacroix hissed the words, his eyes sparkling dangerously. Janette moved between them to avert another confrontation. She had just paid the final bills for last year's redecoration and remodeling of the Raven, and had no desire to go through the process again. She took a firm hol d on Nick's elbow, and this time ignored his attempts to pull away. "Let him have it, Nicholas," she ordered. "Come with me." "Get him out of here, Janette," Lacroix growled his agreement. Janette firmly dragged Nicholas toward the door. Her vampire sibling hesitated about halfway, turning back to stare at their father, but he finally allowed himself to be removed. Janette closed the door to the back room and led Nick over to the bar. She refilled her own glass and offered him one. Nick politely demurred. "What's going on, Janette? I've never seen him like that." "Have you ever looked?" she rejoined tartly. "Mon cher, you always see what you want to see." He looked at her with obvious confusion. "Nicholas, I am not going to tell you that Lacroix is a saint. We both know he is not. But neither is he the monster you insist on seeing. He has fears, concerns, feelings. Though he would prefer it were otherwise." She smiled a rueful smile and raised her hand to lightly caress Nick's face. "Poor Nicholas. So desperately striving to regain his humanity," she murmured, continuing her gentle stroking. "And poor Lacroix, so desperately trying to escape from his." "What is wrong with him, Janette?" Nick asked quietly. "You love your friend Natalie, do you not?" she responded indirectly. Nick threw a furtive glance toward the closed door behind them. "He can't hear you now. And it wouldn't matter if he did." "I don't know, Janette. I... I think so." "Then imagine that she is dead. Imagine spending the rest of eternity without her, yet never able to forget her, or the feelings you shared together." "That isn't going to happen," Nick insisted. "Nat's working on a cure. I'm not --" "THINK, Nicholas," Janette insisted. "Do it. And remember, too, that she might have been with you for all eternity but for a choice you made." Nick briefly tried to imagine it and quailed at the thought. "I cannot." "He has to." She jerked her head toward the closed door. "Every day of an unending existence. The memories always as fresh and painful as though it happened yesterday. Because of your sister." "No." Nick did not want to believe it. "No." "Ecoute, mon cher, you did not lose all human feeling, all human emotion by becoming a vampire, non? If you had, you would not always be so troubled. Look at yourself, Nicholas, without that idiotic self-pity. You love and are loved, you show kindness and compassion to others, you defend the helpless - ma foi, how much more human could you be? Think of your bloodlust as -- how would one put it today? -- as a disability you have to live with. No more." Nick stared curiously at her. "Do you feel a part of humanity, Janette?" He suddenly wondered that he had never asked her before. She shrugged. "At times. Though it would be more accurate to say I feel connected to humanity. Now. Are you still paying attention?" He mutely nodded. "Good. Just as you did not completely lose your humanity, mon cher, neither did Lacroix. But, unlike you, he desperately wants to lose it. His humanity has brought him nothing but constant sorrow and hopeless longing. If he were not so strong, he would have walked into the sunlight centuries ago to escape the pain. And even as you have struggled to regain your ties to humanity, Lacroix has struggled to destroy his, hoping thus to end his torment. He did not want to love your sister. It violated everything he believed about life as a vampire. Nevertheless, it happened. And he has struggled with it ever since. With utter futility." She studied Nick intently, relieved to find that for once he seemed to be listening. "You overflow with compassion for the flotsam of humanity. Can you not spare even a little of that same compassion for the man who made you?" "He wouldn't want it," Nick defended, suddenly feeling guilty, and angrily trying to shake off the feeling. "No," Janette agreed. "He would not. But he needs it, nonetheless. Whether or not he acknowledges that fact." She rose to her feet and searched behind the bar for another bottle of her private stock. "I'd better bring him another bottle. He's probably drained that one by now. He's trying to fall asleep, but you know how difficult it is for our kind to sleep at night." Nicholas remained seated, thinking about what Janette had told him. He found it very disturbing, but was unsure of precisely what he was feeling. Or of how he ought to respond. "Now, Nicholas. I am going back in there. You may come with me if you promise to behave. Or go home. But if you upset him again tonight, I shall be very angry with you, mon cher." She spoke lightly, but there was no mistak ing the warning she conveyed. "I understand," Nick said quietly. He rose from the stool and walked to her. "Thanks, Janette." His lips softly brushed her cheek. Lacroix had not moved since they left. The only change was the now empty bottle that sat on the table. He looked up incuriously as they returned. "I thought you might be ready for more wine," Janette explained. Lacroix smiled bitterly. "Your timing is excellent, my dear. I was about to call you." He looked beyond her to where Nicholas loitered by the entry, still wondering what he should do. "What are you still doing here?" his elder demanded. "I thought you'd be long gone by now." "I was talking with Janette," Nick replied. He hesitated, then resolutely walked over to the table and seated himself across from his mentor. "Are you all right?" Lacroix stared at him scornfully. "This sudden concern for my well-being is touching, Nicholas. And quite unbelievable. What do you want? I've told you your precious mortal is safe from my attentions. What further assurances do you seek?" "None. I don't want anything," Nick rejoined. "I just... I've never seen you like this before." "Of course not. I have never found it the least bit fulfilling to be the object of someone's else's entertainment. Go home, Nicholas." "I'd rather stay. If you don't mind my company." He spoke diffidently, feeling his way. They didn't usually converse in this fashion, and he didn't yet know the rules. "Suit yourself. You always do. Have a drink. Oh, that's right, I forgot. You don't indulge." Lacroix spoke with the same bitter sarcasm he had exhibited earlier. Nick hesitated. "Perhaps this once. Janette? Would you get me a glass, please?" Janette's eyebrows raised, but she said nothing as she returned with a third glass. "Allow me." Nick filled Lacroix's glass, then Janette's, and finally his own. His taste buds fairly danced with delight at the unexpected treat, which was the main reason he avoided the well-remembered combination. It was too easy to fall back into old habits. Lacroix took a healthy swallow, then replaced the half filled glass on the table. "All right, Nicholas. What's going on? Has Janette been telling you stories?" He stared darkly at her, and she glared right back. "No, not really. I've just been thinking." "Really? You, Nicholas? Thinking? Remind me to note the date." Nick frowned at his mentor's sarcasm. "Thinking about what?" "This and that. You.., me.., us. About what happened earlier tonight. And what happened 800 years ago." "And? Did this thinking accomplish anything?" "I think so. I realized some things." "Such as?" "I realized you loved my sister." Lacroix blinked in surprise. "It took 800 years for you to figure that out?" Nick shrugged as he sipped his wine. "I didn't want to figure it out before." He hesitated. "I'm sorry, Lacroix." Lacroix emptied his glass and refilled it. "Why should you be? You got what you wanted, didn't you?" "I suppose so. I guess I wish things could have worked out differently, that's all." He studied his mentor, trying to guess his thoughts. "There's something else I have to tell you. I lied to you tonight. I think I do love Natalie." He waited for Lacroix to respond, but the vampire master just sat there thoughtfully watching him. "I also repudiate the bargain we made back then. I will not let you take her. But I thought you should know the truth." Lacroix nodded. "It doesn't really matter, you know." "It doesn't?" Nick said in surprise. "Why not?" "Because, my dear Nicholas, you face the same problem Fleur and I had. You are a vampire, and she is mortal. She will die, and you will not. Unless, of course, you decide to bring her across." "No." The word came out more strongly than Nick had intended. "Never." "Even if she wants it? Which I think she may?" Lacroix challenged. "Perhaps . Perhaps not. Either way, I shall have my revenge soon enough. Without need of enforcing our bargain." "We may find a cure," Nick protested. "New drugs, new serums are discovered every day." "There is no cure," Lacroix asserted calmly. "But you may amuse yourself by searching for one, if you like. With all eternity at your command, a little time wasted hardly matters." "Nat and I will find a cure." "You're deluding yourself, Nicholas. It isn't going to happen. The two of you will have little enough time together as it is. If I were you, I wouldn't waste it on idle dreaming." Nick stared at Lacroix, wondering if he had understood him correctly. "Then you don't mind about Natalie and me?" Lacroix glared at him. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I mind. I simply don't see anything to be gained by interfering. As I said, my revenge will come soon enough. I can afford to wait." "Thanks, Lacroix." For the first time in centuries, Nick felt kindly disposed toward the vampire master. "I appreciate it." "Don't appreciate it," Lacroix said coldly. "I'm not doing you a favor, Nicholas." "Thanks anyway." He looked around as his vampire's warning system alerted him to the approaching dawn. "I'd better go. Are you staying here?" Lacroix nodded. "I think I'll take advantage of Janette's hospitality for on e more day. Go. You probably have a busy night planned and need the rest." "Busy night?" "I assume that you gave Miss Lambert some pleasant memories of the dinner with you she never had. She'll probably want to pick up where you left off..." His voice trailed off at the sight of Nick's stricken expression. "You didn't, did you?" "I forgot. I was so busy worrying about whether you were following us and whether you would come back..." He winced. What would Natalie think when she awoke and couldn't remember what happened? "Nicholas, Nicholas...What am I to do with you?" Lacroix lightly admonished him, shaking his head. "Will you never remember your lessons?" To his surprise, Nicholas smiled at him. Lacroix almost recoiled in reaction; he couldn't immediately recall the last time that had happened. Late sixteenth century, perhaps. "You're feeling better," Nick suggested. Lacroix considered thoughtfully. "Yes. I suppose I am. Can't imagine why, really." He looked to Janette, but she too merely smiled. He shrugged it off as unimportant. Perhaps it was the passing of Valentine's Day for another year. With daylight approaching, the wine was finally having its intended effect and he was growing sleepy. He frowned at his son, who was still dallying about for some reason. "Good night, Nicholas," he said pointed ly. Nick planted a friendly farewell kiss on Janette's lips. "Good night, Janette." He hesitated for a moment. "Good night, Lacroix." He gave his mentor a quick hug and was out of there before the older vampire knew what had happened. Lacroix stared at Janette is total confusion. It had been about even longer since the last time that had happened. "Absolutely mad." She smiled tolerantly. "He's in love," she replied as though that explained everything. Which, perhaps, it did. "Yes," Lacroix shook his head, pushing back the intrusive memories once again. "Poor, pathetic fool. I could almost feel sorry for him." LECF@aol.com