This is a sequel to "Blood and Fire".  I'd like to thank Cousin 
Laura for conceptual help, as well as a belated thank-you to Susan 
Garrett for help on the first story - in my excitement over finishing the 
story, I kind of forgot to post the credits.  *blush* 
  
        If you don't approve of bisexuality, can't stand the idea of 
polyamoury (loving more than one person at a time with all involved 
parties' consent and approval), despise non-explicit sex scenes, and hate 
the idea of an author changing the gravitational constants of the FK 
universe a little, than don't read this.  Otherwise, enjoy!  Comments can 
be sent to: steff@jbx.com 
  
  
                           THE TASTE OF DREAMS 
                               by Darkangel 
  
  
        "Have you seen Jeanette?"  Natalie accepted the glass from the 
bartender as she looked around the Raven for her lover. 
        He pointed toward the back.  "I wouldn't go back there if I were 
you - LaCroix's with her." 
        Natalie managed to keep back her gasp of surprise.  She had known 
all along that Jeanette's and Nick's master would appear eventually, but 
why now, when they were so happy?  The three of them had been growing 
closer ever since Nick began to accept himself.  Natalie was still trying 
to draw up a cure for him, but he was no longer starving to death on 
cow's blood and her failed protein shakes.  She smiled to herself, 
remembering how right Jeanette had been - Nick was wonderful to be around 
when he wasn't berating himself.  She cared about him more than she ever 
had when she was mortal.  She allowed herself the passion-filled memory of 
the night Jeanette had brought her across.  Nick had been there, full of 
sorrow until Nat had swept him into her arms afterwards, and proven that 
there were no longer barriers stopping them from showing love to one 
another.  Since then he rarely seemed upset over her change... 
        Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking.  She 
remembered suddenly the tales that both Jeanette and Nick had told her of 
LaCroix, and was afraid for Jeanette.  She accepted another cup from the 
bartender and turned her mind toward work, knowing that when Jeanette 
needed her she would know through their bond.  She was still retaining 
her coroner's job, just as Nick was still a detective.  They both were 
busier than ever, but he still managed to visit the morgue a few times a 
week.  He had even bitten her on the lab table where he'd first been 
lying when they met.  Grace and Schanke never suspected a thing about 
Nat's change, but both were happy about their relationship and were 
asking when the wedding was to take place. 
        Nat laughed to herself and got off the barstool. She lit a 
cigarette and drifted about the club, saying hello to friends, trying not 
to think about the agony Jeanette must be in.  Ever since her change, 
she'd become quite a known figure in the vampire community.  A coroner in 
their midst was a great help, and she had helped many a vampire out of a 
sticky situation.  As a result, most of the newly brought over vampires 
were in her debt because she signed their death certificates.  She 
sighed.  As pleasant as it was to be liked, sometimes she wished she 
wasn't so damned *nice*... 
        She sensed Nick behind her just before his arms came around her. 
She leaned back against him.  "What do you think they're fighting about?" 
        Nick, who had bonds with both sides of the argument, winced. 
"Could be anything." 
        They stayed unmoving for several minutes, each lost in thought 
about the argument in progress.  Nick reached for the glass in Natalie's 
hand, and she gave it to him absentmindedly. 
        "Nick?' 
        "Hm?" 
        "Feel like giving some moral support?" 
        Nick stepped back and held out his arm to her.  "I thought you'd 
never ask." 
  
        Jeanette's office was a distaster.  The argument had seemingly halted 
for the moment, as Jeanette was sulking on the couch and LaCroix was 
staring out the window.  Natalie quietly went to the vampiress and put 
her arm around her, letting her sympathy and concern wash over their 
bond.  In return she got a quick, furtive hug and a weak smile.  Nick 
stood next to the closed door, bracing himself for whatever LaCroix would 
say next. 
        "Well, Nicholas, it's nice to see you've gotten your colour 
back."  LaCroix turned toward the younger vampire, smiling coldly. 
        Nick looked at the floor, twinges of guilt over his return to 
drinking human blood making him unable to answer. 
        "And Natalie Lambert..."  He walked towards the black leather 
couch, glass crunching under his feet.  Nat looked at him defiantly. 
"I'm pleased to see that you've joined us.  It's so nice of you to help 
me regain control of my...children." 
        He reached out to touch Natalie's hair, and she barely kept herself 
from jerking away from him.  She felt his cold, dead breath in her ear, 
as he whispered, "Perhaps you are a worthy companion after all, my dear 
doctor.  I would so enjoy getting to know you better..." 
        She felt his fangs against her neck - not piercing her, but just 
pressing against her still-unbroken flesh, enough that she knew it as a 
threat.  She still did not move or speak, preferring to stare at a 
paperweight on Jeanette's desk to keep herself from screaming.  She heard 
Nick snarl, and LaCroix turned to face Nick.  She felt her body relax 
slightly, glad to have his fangs gone. 
        Nick's eyes were yellow, and he was growling at LaCroix.  "Leave 
her alone!" 
        The older vampire chuckled, thoroughly amused at Nick's anger. 
"Come, come, Nicholas.  I didn't hurt your ladylove, did I, my sweet?" 
        Natalie ignored the endearment.  "I'm fine, Nick."  She looked at 
the blonde vampire steadily, trying to calm him.  It seemed that LaCroix 
enjoyed rousing Nick's hatred - she had a feeling that apathy would anger 
the bastard more than defensiveness. 
        LaCroix had caught on to what she was thinking.  "So you think 
you know me, Ms. Lambert?"  He laughed derisively.  "Come, my pet, but we 
have only just met."  The fangs were at her neck again, the snake poised 
but not striking.  "Though if you wish to take up my offer..." 
        Natalie took a chance.  She reached over to the endtable, pulled 
out one of Jeanette's cigarettes, and lit it, looking bored.  She stared 
at him pointedly, and he laughed. 
        "Beautiful, beautiful performance, my pet."  He smiled.  "You 
have strength.  I like that."  He kissed her mouth briefly, barely 
touching his lips to hers.  "I'll see you soon, cherie." 
        Hearing Jeanette's pet name for her come mockingly from this 
beast's lips made her want to punch him, but she continued to smoke 
slowly and stare unblinkingly at him. 
        Then he was gone, laughing as he closed the door behind him.  Nat 
collapsed, glad she had the calming cigarette in her hand.  "You're 
right, both of you - he is a bastard!" 
        Nick grinned, proud of her performance, but Jeanette looked stern. 
"You should have whimpered or begged or something.  He is not interested in 
taming what is already meek, but now you've caught his interest." 
  
        Natalie stormed into Jeanette's bedroom and wished that she could kick 
something hard without breaking it.  It was her night off, and she and 
Jeanette had decided to dance.  They made the mistake of getting a little 
too friendly on the dance floor, and it was obvious from the stares and crude 
comments that even vampire men had fantasies about "hot bi babes".  She sighed, 
disgusted.  At least Nick didn't have that particular affliction - when 
the three of them were together, it was three vampires having a lot of 
fun together, as opposed to 'one guy and two women'.  She looked around 
for the pack of cigarettes she'd left in the room and gasped.  LaCroix 
stood, smiling, and bowed. 
        "Hello again, Ms. Lambert." 
        Natalie tried to regain her composure.  She saw the cigarettes on 
the dresser, and walked calmly to pick up the pack.  LaCroix held up a 
lighter, the small flame was too bright in the darkness.  She allowed him 
to light the cigarette, and took a deep drag. 
        LaCroix smiled.  "I brought you something."  He held out a 
bouquet of black roses.  She looked at him warily, and took the flowers. 
The thorns pierced her hand, and she dropped the bouquet.  LaCroix took 
her hand and looked at the pinpricks, and the blood welling out of them. 
He lifted her hand to his mouth and delicately licked the blood from it, 
sucking ever so gently on the tiny wounds.  She felt her insides melt 
against her will, and suddenly understood the true meaning of vampiric 
charm.  She moaned, her eyes closing in arousal for a moment before she 
jerked her hand away, realizing what he was doing to her.  He smiled 
knowingly. 
        "I brought you something else - a gift much less... dangerous." 
She examined the contents of the envelope he gave her - four front row 
seats to "Faust".  "I thought we could all attend, together."  The menace 
in his voice had receded slightly, and he smiled again.  "Consider it an 
apology for that dreadful scene in Jeanette's office." 
        She wasn't sure what to say.  Part of her was filled with terror 
at the thought of spending time with this beast voluntarily, yet she was 
both intensely aroused by him.  Of course, what would he do to her is she 
said no?  "Thank you."  Her voice sounded a lot more passionate than she 
meant it to. 
        He nodded.  "Until then, cherie."  He kissed her suddenly, 
deeply.  Her arms twined about his neck, crushing him to her, before her 
brain even understood what what happening.  Then she was alone, and she 
wasn't sure whether the coldness in her was hatred or disappointment. 
  
        Natalie poured herself a glass from the bottle the bartender had set 
in their booth, and Jeanette smiled at her.  She and Nick had been 
arguing over some painting they'd seen in Italy during the Renaissance 
which no longer existed.  Natalie was glad for the time to pull herself 
back together.  Nick started talking about his latest case, and she 
nodded and tried to look interested. 
        "Oh, by the way - I got us tickets to see 'Faust'."  She figured 
it would be better if her lovers didn't know where she got them until she 
had to tell them. 
        "I thought those were sold out."  Nick looked puzzled. 
        "Nicholas, we are vampires.  We have our ways..."  Jeanette 
pressed herself closer to him and looked at Natalie teasingly.  "And I'll bet 
our dear Natalie didn't even kill anyone to get them." 
        Nat smiled in agreement.  "Well, I must go check on Sidney. 
Keeping up the pretense of living in my apartment is hard, but I'm so 
afraid to bring the cat here - one of our vampire friends may decide he 
looks edible." 
  
  
        Nat decided to spend the day at her own apartment.  As far as she 
knew, LaCroix had no idea where her home was, and she needed time to sort 
out her feelings without her lovers' opinions in the way.  She knew 
Jeanette and Nick would try to save her from becoming as entangled with 
their master as they were, but she knew that he could never have that 
hold over her - he had not created her, and she doubted that even the 
bond between LaCroix and Jeanette could make Jeanette hurt her - love was 
too strong a tie for such betrayal.  But it couldn't hurt to distract 
LaCroix from trying, just in case she was wrong... 
        Sidney seemed happy to see her, though he had become a great deal 
more wary of her since she'd come across.  Poor baby. She scooped him up 
in her arms and hugged him as gently as she could.  He purred and licked 
her nose, and she laughed as she lay down to sleep. 
  
        She dreamt of him, of them together.  She knew in her sleep what 
it would feel like to be at the mercy of his touch, to be the willing 
recipient of his centuries of experience.  His blood would be full of the 
ages, and would excite her as much as her young, freshly-across blood would 
arouse his passion... 
        She awoke, sweating blood.  She examined her neck with trembling 
fingertips, the dream being so vivid that she was afraid it was real.  To 
her relief the flesh was untouched.  Was it her desire that made her 
think such things, or did he have the power to influence her very sleep? 
        She rose, knowing the sun was almost below the horizon.  She 
dressed and microwaved breakfast, having discovered that blood was infinitely 
better warm.  She petted Sidney once more, and than left for work. 
  
	After Natalie's shift she went to the Raven, hungry.  Working around so 
much blood was tempting, but she always managed to stave off her hunger 
until after the corpses had been autopsied and she was free to be with 
those she loved.  Jeanette was nowhere to be seen.  Natalie knew she was 
in the back, but wanted a drink first.  She hoped the blood would erase 
the lines under her eyes from her disturbed sleep. 
        She wound up drinking straight from the bottle. Luckily, her 
lovers were nowhere in sight and the booth she was in was hidden in the 
shadows.  She drained the last of it and lit a cigarette just as Jeanette 
emerged from the back. 
        "Been here long?"  Jeanette's French accent never failed to 
arouse Natalie. 
        "No, just got here." She indicated her empty glass, having 
disposed of the bottle.  "I was hungry."  She kissed Jeanette, and the 
brunette signaled the bartender for a glass for herself.  "Nicholas came 
by about one of his silly cases earlier.  He said he'd be late tonight." 
She grinned evilly.  "Want to keep ourselves busy while he's gone?" 
        "Sure, love."  Natalie managed a smile. 
        "You look tired, cherie."  Jeanette looked at her intently. 
Natalie tried to hide her thoughts from her mistress, but failed. 
"LaCroix!  What has he been doing to you, darling?" 
        "Nothing.  Not a damned thing."  Embarrassed, Natalie told her 
lover of the dream she had.  She left out the happenings of the other 
night, and Jeanette, in her concern, didn't bother to search Natalie for 
any other incidences. 
        Jeanette sniffed.  "While he may be quite attractive physically, 
he is a ruthless, coldhearted bastard.  And if you don't watch yourself, 
cherie--"  She gasped as LaCroix appeared behind Natalie. 
        "The ruthless, coldhearted bastard may well decide that he likes 
you."  LaCroix finished Jeanette's statement.  "Too late, Jeanette, I 
already find our dear doctor most intriguing." He sat down in the shadowy 
booth next to Natalie.  "May I?"  He took one of Jeanette's cigarettes 
even though he had not received an answer.  "You know, Jeanette, you 
always did think the worst of me.  Did you ever think that maybe I don't 
want to destroy your pet?" He laughed as Natalie tensed, hating the way 
he referred to her.  "Maybe I just want a taste of what you and Nicholas 
get regularly." 
        Natalie tried to slap him, but he caught her hand in midair and 
pulled her to him.  He kissed her roughly, and the pleasure was 
exquisite.  She tried to back away, but he was too strong for her; he 
just held her closer, and her body pressed against his unyielding flesh 
was betraying her.  She relaxed into his arms, letting herself go limp, 
and thought very hard about the autopsies she'd performed earlier.  Her 
false apathy made him laugh, and he let her go.  She smoothed her hair 
and took a drink.  Jeanette sat stonily, looking at LaCroix as if he was 
no better than the street thug she'd had for dinner.  He ignored her. 
        "Actually, Ms. Lambert," he said in his always-sarcastic voice, 
"I wanted to bring you something.  A gift."  He proffered a bouquet 
similar to the one he had given her the other night.  "Don't worry, I 
made sure there were no thorns on these, not like last time.  See you at 
the play tomorrow night."  He kissed her hand slowly, lingering with his 
lips on her skin, before he disappeared. 
        "That pig!"  Jeanette started cursing in several different 
languages before stopping in confusion.  "Cherie, what did he mean about 
'not like last time'?  And what about 'Faust'?  Did you invite him?" 
        'Damn him!' Natalie thought, fuming.  He would make sure that 
Jeanette knew that she'd been lied to.  "He gave me some flowers the 
other night, and the 'Faust' tickets."  She looked miserably at the 
tabletop.  "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you." 
        "Cherie, he is too dangerous for you to be keeping secrets from 
me.  Promise me you'll tell me next time he shows up?" 
        Natalie nodded. 
        "Well, I suppose we'll still go to the theatre tomorrow.  After 
all, I already bought the dress..." 
  
        The play was wonderful, and the acting superb.  After the show, 
the four of them went for a walk in the night.  Natalie's heart had 
skipped a beat at seeing Nick and LaCroix talking together, both dressed 
in evening clothes, and at Jeanette in her jewels and black opera gown. 
Natalie was dressed in black as well, but her velvet dress clung to her in a 
much more modern style than her lover's.  They were all relaxed, and 
LaCroix even joked as he and Nick walked arm in arm. 
        Jeanette kissed Natalie and whispered, "don't they look great 
together?"  Natalie nodded.  LaCroix's fearsome stance and white hair 
were a perfect contrast to Nick's boyishness and yellow curls.  She 
wondered what it would be like to have them together. 
        "Jeanette, did you ever--" 
        "Of course, cherie." The vampiress' smile was nostalgic.  "And 
what a time we had..." 
        "Do you think--" Natalie broke off, not sure how to phrase the question. 
        "Yes, I do.  But LaCroix isn't always the best person to be 
around.  It's best to enjoy him when you can and hope he doesn't show up 
again anytime soon."  Jeanette frowned.  "He could hurt you, cherie. 
Nicholas and I would do our best to keep him from you, but...  we are his 
creations." 
        "I understand." 
  
        It was the dream again.  She felt his hands on her, igniting her 
most secret places, his touch rough but not painful.  She moaned and 
arched her back to feel him against her, and felt his teeth at her 
throat.  She begged him to give her release, to drink from her, to let 
her come.  Her eyes grew yellow and hot with frustration, and when he 
drank from her it was animalistic, savage.  She buried her fangs into him 
and tasted the ancient, salty fluid, crushed him to her as they drained 
each other in a neverending cycle. 
  
        She woke late to bloodstained sheets and an ache at her neck. 
She remembered her dream and smiled, then frowned at the black, thornless 
rose next to her.  She opened the note on the pillow, written in blood-red 
ink, and sobbed at the single line of writing. 
        "My dearest doctor," it read, "the dream is real." 
  
darkangel    steff@jbx.com    "dance the ghost with me..." --sisters of mercy 
    "i went looking for trouble - and boy, i found her." -type o negative 
            "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger." --nietzsche