Yes, believe it or not, this is the sequel to "Tomorrow's Tangle". Be
forewarned: it's even longer than its predecessor. Comments eagerly
solicited to lackeyj@indiana.edu, or welshkin@dfw.net, as well as
requests for missing parts, or for previous Kate or Gwen stories. Hope
you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it. No, really. We
mean it.



To the Winds Resign
a sequel to Tomorrow's Tangle
by Sarah Welsh and Jennifer Greenbury Lackey

Part One
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein Kate formulates revenge

        I stood on the back porch of my grandmother's house - my house
now - and looked out across the yard in the moonlight.  Funny how I had
spent so much time here and the moonlight view of the house was still
unfamiliar to me.  It's the only way I'll ever see it now, I guess.  But
all my memories of that backyard are in the sunlight, playing with my
dog.  He wasn't really my dog, of course, just one of the strays who
lived in the neighborhood.  But he had come back every afternoon to play
with me for the couple of years I had lived in that house, and in the
winter I had smuggled him into the back room at night to keep him warm.
I think my grandmother knew he was there, but she never said anything
about it.  I found out later that he'd kept coming around for a few
months after I left until some boys down the street started throwing
rocks at him. After that he disappeared. That was when I still had friend
on the street who wrote me letters to tell me what was happening.  It
hadn't lasted very long.  Children's memories are short.  I was shipped
off to my mother, the house was sold, and Life Went On.
        But now the house is mine again, really mine.  It's still hard to
believe the way Gwen just gave me that money, like my grandmother used to
give away cups of starter for her friendship bread.  I had to use it in
the same way too:  keep some back to make more.  "Touch no more than a
million," Gwen said.  "The rest of it stays in the bank. You live off the
interest, which will grow larger and larger over time, if you're careful.
And you won't have to worry about money again."  It had been ridiculously
easy to get the house and the necessary renovations done to the basement
apartment for  a fraction of what Gwen allowed me.  Mortal minds are such
weak things.  I know I'm by no means LaCroix' equal in hypnotism, but the
lessons Gwen gave me in Mind Control 101 were more than enough to
convince the silly family that had been living here that I was doing them
a favor by taking the house off their hands. Hypnotism still seems like a
rather roundabout way of getting what I want, but another of Gwen's
lessons popped into my head: "Never kill anyone you're doing business
with, not in this day and age.  It's vulgar, and dangerous besides.  We
want to avoid undue attention, not attract it."
        I slipped back through the door where the cooling body of my
dinner lay crumpled in a heap.  Gwen had sent enough bottled blood along
with me to feed an army of vampires, but it didn't have the same taste as
the Real Thing. It's not like there was much else to do around here
anyway, and I was careful about who I killed.
        Victims were almost as easy to find in a small country town as in
the big city, as long as you knew what you were looking for.  He had been
one of those men who wander out of nowhere down the roads, hitching rides
when they can in the backs of old pick-ups, working in a farmer's field
today and chopping wood or hauling bales of hay tomorrow for a meal and a
barn or porch to sleep under for the night.  My grandmother had fed quite
a few of them in her day.  They never had names or identifiable ages.
They just kept moving on, while the landscape changed around them.  A lot
like us, actually.  Except, of course, that we're the predators and
they're the prey.  The one I had fed from tonight had skin the color of
leather from his endless days in the sun, and it looked even darker in
contrast with his bleached silver-white hair.  Men like him are so used
to taking whatever the world deals out to them that his eyes hadn't even
widened in surprise when I struck him.  His head was hanging at an odd
angle where I had broken his neck.  I'd take his body out into the
country somewhere tonight and leave it.
        I continued in from the back room to the kitchen and paused a
minute, looking at the phone on the wall.  On an impulse, I snatched up
the receiver and dialed Nick's number.  "Yeah, Nick Knight.  I'm either
in bed or incommunicado...."  I hung up.  The machine.  I didn't want to
leave a message.  I wanted to talk to someone, anyone.  Because the truth
is, no matter how bad I wanted to own this house, no matter how good the
hunting, I can't stand being alone.  I was lonely, and once the
remodeling was done, I was bored.  And there was nothing to do.  Nick was
apparently at work, and I didn't want to call Gwen.  For all I knew, she
might be with LaCroix.  If she was, they were either in bed or on a
battlefield, and I didn't particularly care for my chances if I
interrupted either one of them. I can still remember the beating he gave
me last time I got in his way. He was the reason I was stuck here by
myself in the first place. I hadn't felt safe in Toronto, always looking
over my shoulder, so as soon as Gwen taught me the basics, she sent me
off here to Missouri until he cools down.  If he ever does. Which I
doubt. I might be stuck in this same house for the next century, all
because of him and that stupid diary.
        The diary.  I suddenly remembered something I had been skimming
over before LaCroix came in the room and demanded I read what Gwen had
written about him.  Gwen had been in Missouri too a few years back, in
St. Louis, and she had written about a mortal she had met in a club
there. A mortal who looked an awful lot like Nick. Just like I looked an
awful lot like Natalie.  LaCroix knew what to do with a double. Surely I
could figure out something much better than any of Gwen's plans for
revenge. Of course, it had been a few years, and mortals age quickly.
Would he still look enough like Nick for me to pull this off? Would I
even be able to find him? Only one way to find out.  I locked the front
door to my new house and began to get together a few things I might need
for the trip.  I'd dispose of the corpse on the way to the city.  This
could be just what I needed to amuse myself.

Part Two
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, relating the arrival of an unexpected visitor


        I was preparing to go to the Raven, fussing with my hair and
trying to decide on a pair of shoes when I heard a key in the lock of the
front door. Kate was the only other person who had a key, but she was
still in Missouri. Or so I had thought. I headed downstairs to see what
was happening, and heard her speaking to someone, reassuring them that it
was okay. I had a sudden sinking feeling in my stomach. Kate had done
something, I knew without seeing it, and it was something Very Bad. I
never should have let her go to Missouri alone, I thought, as I flew down
the rest of the stairs through sheer impatience.
        I landed in the living room, to see a young mortal, who looked
remarkably like Nick, sitting on the couch, obviously under Kate's
hypnotic influence. The boy from St. Louis. I cursed, in Irish, and
looked at Kate. How did she develop such an unerring instinct for doing
the things which would upset me most? I felt very, very ill.
        "How did you find him?" I asked her. "And why? It took all my
strength to let him go before. It is one of the few things that I've done
in recent years which was a truly benevolent act. Now, he's in great
danger. He'll never emerge unscathed from contact with so many of us. Oh,
Kate." I took a deep breath and decided to sit down. The feeling of doom
that had descended on me upstairs settled in for a long stay. I had never
even mentioned this boy, who looked so like Nicholas, to anyone for fear
of exactly this. I had left St. Louis to protect him. Now, here he sat,
almost five years later, in my living room in Toronto, and all my efforts
to shield him had come to naught. I was angry at Kate, but I primarily
felt unutterably helpless. It seemed nothing good could ever come from
anything I touched. "It was my diary that led you to him, wasn't it?"
        She nodded. Her enthusiasm was unaffected by my obvious
disapproval. "Yeah, of course," she said. "But listen, calm down. I had
the greatest idea to get LaCroix back. He's going to absolutely go nuts.
I remembered what I read about this mortal guy you met who looked like
Nick, and I thought what if I could find him and we'd make LaCroix think
that Nick had actually made it back over, that he became human again? I
know it wouldn't work for too long - he'd catch on after a little while -
but just to see his reaction ... Gwen, isn't that just the most hilarious
idea?"
        At the sound of my name, the boy seemed to snap out of Kate's
thrall, and really looked at me for the first time. "My God," he
whispered, "it's you. It's really you. I've been looking for you, all
over, for years. Every bar, every coffee shop, I always searched the
crowd for you. Where am I? How did I get here? Is this real?" He was
understandably confused. I was understandably overcome with guilt.
        "It's a dream," I told him. "You'll wake up in your own bed, very
soon, without a bit of harm to a single hair on your head." I looked at
Kate, pointedly.
        He shook his head, growing visibly distressed. "But I want to
stay here with you. I don't care if it's a dream, I've dreamt about you
ever since we met. I'm staying here."
        I looked at Kate again, as if to say, you see what you've done. I
caught the boy's eyes, and murmured to him, "Stay here. You won't hear a
word we say, all right?"
        "All right," he agreed, dreamily.
        I pulled Kate into the dining room.  I hissed at her, "You take
him back to Missouri. I don't want to be a party to this boy's death, not
in any way."
        But Kate stared back at me, fiercely, and I was suddenly reminded
of myself at her age. "No," she said. "I won't and you can't make me. I
want my revenge on LaCroix, and I need him to do it. I need you, too." A
crafty look came into her eyes, and she smiled at me. "If you won't help
me, then I'll kill the guy. I swear I will. He'll be a midnight snack.
Come on, Gwen. You know it's a great idea. And you can take care of him
if you're so worried about him. I promise, if you'll just help me with
this, I'll take him back to Missouri right afterwards, and everything
will be just fine."
        I sighed. "Kate, you're in no position to be blackmailing me.
Without my protection Lucien will probably tear you to shreds. You can't
plot against LaCroix yourself. As soon as you get near him, he'll snatch
the thoughts right out of your mind." As usual, Kate had not worked
through the consequences of her actions. And, of course, she wasn't
listening to a word that I said, except for the implied refusal in my
voice.
        "It's not fair," she screamed, stamping her foot so hard that a
painting slid down the wall to fall face-first on the floor. Oh lovely, I
thought. A two-year old in a vampire's body. Now where did I put that
child rearing manual? She continued her diatribe, unaffected by the crash
of the painting. "Do you know what I went through to find him? Those
directions in your diary are not exactly clear. I had to tramp all around
St. Louis looking for that stupid club you stumbled into four years ago,
and then when I finally found it, all I knew was that I was looking for
some guy named Nick with blond hair and blue eyes. You could at least
have found out his last name so I could have looked him up in the phone
book or something. I had to hypnotize about every third waitress in there
before I found one who knew where I could find him. I am not  going to
just take him back, not after all that. If nothing else, he'll make a
good dinner. Or do you think that I won't really kill him? Because I
will. I'm not squeamish about fresh blood like you and Nick are."
        "No, Kate, I have no doubt that you'd kill that boy just to spite
me." I sat down at the table, suddenly feeling every moment my age.
        Kate folded her arms and  waited. "I don't see that it would be
such a  terrible loss if I did kill him," she muttered. "He's got about
as much sense as our own Nick."
        I had to chuckle at that, and the more I thought about the
situation, the funnier it all seemed. I began to laugh helplessly, tears
of mirth gathering in my eyes.
        "What?" Kate asked, scowling at me.
        "I have to admit that is a funny idea. To make Lucien think that
our Nicholas has crossed back over. Can you imagine the look on his
face?" I started laughing again.
        "Yeah,  I thought it was pretty good," she stated dryly.
        I tried to compose myself. I looked at her a bit more seriously,
and added, "But it would put the boy in danger, and I won't accept that."
I have to admit, though, that I almost wished that there were some way to
accomplish it without harming the mortal.
        "Gwen, he's already here," Kate cajoled, apparently switching
tactics. "And you can protect him from LaCroix. I know you can. I don't
even think it would be possible to wipe his memory now that he's seen you
again. He's really stubborn. And he's got it really bad for you. He
didn't seem interested in me at all until  I mentioned your name, and
showed him the portrait in the little locket you gave me. After that, I
hardly had to hypnotize him at all. He wanted to come and find you." She
smiled sweetly at me. "Come on, Gwen. You know  it would be fun."
        "Kate," I admonished her, "that locket is supposed to  be for
your protection. Trust you to find  some way of using it to cause
trouble." I  looked at her for a moment. I never imagined that this
fledgling could cause so much disruption in so many lives. Why is it that
my imagination always fails me at the most crucial moments? Finally, I
asserted, "No, Kate, I refuse to allow this scheme. I don't need yet
another youngster running around who needs to be protected from LaCroix.
And I won't allow you to kill him, either.  Cherie, I don't want us to be
at each other's throats. We'll think of something else to get back at
Lucien. Now, I'm going to go wipe the boy's memory, and you take him back
to Missouri. Come back here, or stay at the country house, it doesn't
matter. But see that he gets there safely. Promise me."
        She eyed me sulkily for a long moment and then nodded, very
reluctantly. I suppose she realized that she was outclassed, for the time
being anyway. I hoped that the boy aged quickly. In another five years,
he'd look too old to be mistaken for our Nicholas de Brabant.
        Kate followed me into the living room, and I got the boy's
attention. "Nicholas, you're going to go home now. And you'll realize
that you had a very normal, average day. No unusual visitors, nothing
unusual at all."
        He looked at me a moment, glassy eyed, and then shook his head as
if to clear it.  "Nothing unusual?" he asked. "I finally see you again,
after years of searching, and that's not unusual?" Kate laughed
triumphantly, and I glared at her.
        "Beautiful," I said sarcastically. I sighed. There would be no
protecting this one. I had no idea what I would do with him, but I
decided that, all things considered, there would be no harm in giving
Lucien a little scare. I'd be there to keep him from hurting the boy.
After that, well, I would just have to think of some way to get the child
back to his old life without permanent damage.
        "My boy," I began, sitting on the couch next to him, "how would
you like to help Kate and me repay a debt to an old friend?"
        His eyes were now clear and alert as he studied me carefully,
seeming to weigh each word. "And how exactly could I be of service?" he
asked.
        "Well, it seems you resemble this friend of ours. Quite amazingly
so, actually. I think all that would be necessary is for you to show
yourself, allowing another friend of ours to believe you are the friend I
mentioned before." This was sounding even more confusing than it was.
        "Do these friends have names?" he asked.
        "Perhaps it would be best if your knowledge of the affair were
kept to a minimum. Their first names are Nicholas, who is the man whom
you resemble, and Lucien." He was not the only one choosing words carefully.
        "Ah," he laughed. "Another Nicholas who looks like me. That's
going to make things confusing."
        "Yeah, well, really, you look like him. He had the face first.
He's quite a bit older than you," Kate interjected in a wry tone.
        I scowled at her. Too much information, I thought at her, wishing
I had the luxury of Lucien's link with her.
        And as I feared, the boy caught the implication of her statement
right away. "If he's so much older  than I am, how can I pass for him, no
matter how briefly?"
        "No need for you to worry about that," I assured him. "Just trust
us to make the scheme work. And if it doesn't, then you're none the worse
off."
        He narrowed his eyes at me. "There's obviously quite a bit going
on here that you aren't willing to share with me. Okay, I'll let it
stand, for now. For your sake, Gwen." He gave me a winning smile. My
stomach twisted, in commiseration with my conscience. Well, the game had
already begun, I thought. He's caught up in it, with or without my
consent. The best thing I can do now, is let the thing play its course,
hope that I can protect him, and hope that Kate keeps her promise to take
him back when she's done with him. If he will agree to go back at all.
All these hopes looked suspiciously like fairy tales when examined in the
light of reason. I suddenly decided I could use a drink. I went to the
kitchen, poured myself a glass of wine, mixed with my private stock, of
course, and then realized that I didn't have anything to offer my mortal
guest. I hadn't had any mortals as house guests for several centuries.
        I walked back into the living room, where Kate and the mortal
were chatting quietly, and said, "Kate, dear. Would you do me a favor,
and go pick up a bottle of wine for our guest? Better get several. Just
have them put it on the bill, as usual. What do you care for, Nicholas?"
        "Oh, whatever you usually drink is fine," he replied amiably.
        Kate stiffled a snort. I gave her a look of warning, and then
turned back to him, "But what do you prefer?"
        "A cabernet savignon would be nice. Generally, I prefer French,"
he answered.
        I nodded. This was my wine of choice as well. "They'll know what
to give you, then, Kate. Just ask for my usual vintage, but without the
extra bottles." She smiled at me, and left.

Part Two, Continued
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, relating the arrival of an unexpected visitor


"So," he said, "where's your music room?"
        I looked at him, startled. "How did you know that I played?"
        "Four years ago, when we held hands and walked along the river, I
noticed the calluses on the tips of the fingers of your left hand. I'm a
free-lance photographer, and I specialize in photographing musicians. I'm
very familiar with your ilk." He grinned at me. I thought to myself,
let's hope you don't become too familiar with my ilk of the other sort.
        "And you deduced that since I played a stringed instrument I must
have a separate room for playing?" Of course, I did have a separate
studio, but how could he know that?
        "Well, look at this place. The expensive furnishings, the art,
which looks to be all original. Your clothes. You're not exactly
impoverished. And the first thing any musician does when she gets a bit
of money is to buy a bunch of instruments and musical equipment, and find
a place to put it all. So where is it?" He flashed another smile at me,
this one a bit smug.
        "So is your last name Holmes?" I teased him.
        "No, Sterne, actually. But you can be my Dr. Watson. Or Dr.
whatever. What is your last name, anyway?" he inquired.
        "You do insist on asking bothersome questions, don't you?"  This
mortal was much sharper than average, and was asking entirely too many
questions. And figuring too many things out, without even asking. "I use
a last name only for business transactions. This isn't business, is it?"
        "No, I don't think so," he said, with his boyish smirk.
        "Well, just call me Gwen, then." I had a dozen last names,
anyway. One for every occasion. But I was not sure which would be
appropriate to wear to a grilling by an inquisitive mortal.
        The boy beamed at me, undaunted. "All right, Gwen. I'll do
exactly that. I'd really like to see your musical set-up, though, if
you'd agree to show it to me."
        "Why are you so interested in that?" I wondered.
        "Because musicians' studio rooms tell a lot about them. Please?
Since I *am* doing you a favor. . ." His cajoling was much more effective
than Kate's.
        "Oh, all right. I don't see what harm could come of it." I led
him upstairs to my little studio, curious to see what other surprises he
would pull out of his metaphorical hat.
        He looked around attentively after entering, and stared at all
the instruments, which dominated the room. There was a small amount of
recording equipment in the corner, as well, but I preferred to play live.
He turned about, examining each side of the room intently, before
pivoting to look at me with a wide-eyed and somewhat frightened
expression on his face. "You play all these?"
        "Yes," I answered, "with varying degrees of proficiency." This
was a slightly misleading statement. I played them all very proficiently,
and a mortal's ear, even that of a trained musician, probably wouldn't be
able to hear any real difference in the level of my playing from one
instrument to the next. I, however, could hear a marked difference, so I
didn't consider this assertion an outright lie.
        "Is there anything you don't play?" he joked.
        "Oh, a few things here and there, I'm sure," I responded.
        He sat in one of the two straightbacked chairs in the room.
"Gwen," he said, "there is something seriously awry with this picture.
How could anyone, no matter how talented, learn to play all these
different types of instruments, to any level of proficiency, in the
twenty years or so that you must have been playing, at the most? And that
night that we met, as you drove away, I saw something in your eyes,
something wrong with your eyes ... "  I watched the blood drain away from
his face, and his complexion turn stark white.
        He was putting the pieces together, I could see it in his face. I
wasn't sure exactly how much he was correct about, but he was on to
something, it was plain. I never imagined that he could deduce so much
from so little information. He would be in serious danger now, from my
kindred who were so jealous of their secret. I took his hand, grasping it
with my traitorous fingertips, that had set him on the trail of the
truth. "Let's go downstairs, and we'll talk about it, all right, Nicholas
Sterne?"
        "Yeah.  Maybe you can put some of my wild suspicions to rest." He
nodded and headed down the hallway toward the stairs.
        "Let's hope that suspicions are the only things put to rest by
the end of this debacle," I muttered under my breath, and followed.


        "I'm sorry we don't yet have refreshments to offer you," I
remarked, trying to play the gracious host. "You look like you could use
a drink."
        "Yeah, I'll bet," he replied, trying to smile at me, but not
quite succeeding. He was chalk white, obviously still shaken. If I'd had
any morbid curiosity about what he would look like if I should decide to
bring him over, it was now satisfied.  With all the blood drained away
from his face he looked, well, like Nicholas de Brabant. What a surprise.
We sat on the couch, and I set about trying to formulate a version of the
truth that would impart the knowledge that he needed while hiding
everything else.
        "Nicholas, I'm doing my very best to protect you. I do not want
to see you get hurt. That's why I left St. Louis, to prevent something
like this from happening." Or more honestly, I thought, to protect him
from my own ravenous hunger for a companion, especially one that looked
so like my then-lost Nicholas de Brabant. "Now, through an occurrence
which was partially my fault, you're here, and I'm trying to keep you
from learning anything which might be dangerous to you.  That is why I'm
being so mysterious. It isn't to protect myself; I'm in no real danger,
and if I were it wouldn't matter to me anyway. You, on the other hand,
are. Serious danger. Mortal danger.  If you want to maintain your status
among the living, you must trust me. Without cause, I realize. But I ask
it of you anyway, for your own sake."
        He considered my words, with a grim expression. "Such a mystery,
though, Gwen. How can I just walk away from a tangle like this, without
making the slightest effort to unravel it? I'd rather risk my life and
get to the bottom of it. Won't you explain it to me? I know you aren't
what you seem. You can't be. You seem to be too many things."
        "No," I admitted. "I am not what I seem. But can we come to a
compromise position? Can I buy three days from you, in order to try to
come up with a way out of this mess? After that we'll discuss again what
you can know and what you can't. And I'll answer whatever questions that
I safely can." I looked into his pretty blue eyes, and exerted my will,
so slightly and subtly that it wouldn't be detected.
        "All right," he reluctantly agreed. "I'll ask my questions again
in three days, or sooner if you think of something that might help. In
the meantime, I should find a hotel."
        "That would be very unwise. You must stay here, where I can keep
an eye on you. There are several guest bedrooms down this way," I
gestured toward the hallway, "the largest being at the end of the hall.
You should be much more comfortable here than in a hotel."  Any
definition of comfortable includes being alive, I would think.
        "That's very kind," he answered. "Thank you."
        I heard the key in the door, and Kate walked in, bearing a
grocery sack full of clinking glass bottles of wine.
        "Ah, reinforcements," I joked. "Now we can set aside all this
serious discussion, and try to entertain ourselves for a bit."
        Kate grinned. "That's the best idea I've heard all night." She
looked Nicholas over with the same expression I'd seen on mortals
choosing a lobster for their dinner. I wondered exactly how
"entertaining" the entertainment was likely to be tonight. I'd be
watching Nicholas Sterne *very* carefully, to be sure.

Part Three
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein plans are made

       After I got back from the liquor store, the three of us sat and
talked a while.  Or really, Gwen and my mortal Nick talked.  He's really
got it bad for Gwen; I don't think he noticed my being there at all.
Actually, to be totally accurate, what really happened was that Gwen
poured him an awful lot of wine and made a lot of small talk that edged
her around having to say anything that might give away our secret.  I've
got to admit she's good at it.  Between the wine and Gwen's powers of
persuasion, he was pretty out of it before long. Gwen let the night wear
on until almost three o'clock before she set down her wine glass.
        "Look at the time," she said.  "I'm so sorry to have
kept you up so late.  I'm sure you're very tired."
        "But I'm not," the new Nick insisted.  "Not at all."
        "But you must be," Gwen repeated a little more firmly and fixed
him with her eyes.  "After your flight?  I find air travel very tiring,
don't you?"
        He nodded a bit reluctantly.  "Well, yes, now that you mention
it."  He set down his glass and pushed a hand back through his hair.  I
almost spilled my wine, and even Gwen looked startled.  The gesture was
so like our own Nick.  "I guess I could do with some rest."
        Gwen stood up, and Nick pushed himself to his feet as well.
"I'll show you to your room then.  If you'll excuse us, Kate."
        Nick swiveled around to glance at me in mild surprise.  I think
he was so caught up in Gwen he had forgotten I was there.  "Good night,"
he mumbled to me as he followed Gwen down the hall.  I wasn't supposed to
hear the next part, but he didn't know how sensitive my ears are.  "Do I
really have to stay in a guest room?"
        Gwen's voice was carefully flat.  "I thought we agreed it would
be better for you to stay here than in a hotel."
        I could hear the grin in his voice.  "I wasn't talking about
going to a hotel."  I choked back a laugh.  I wonder if it was the wine
talking or if he was always that smooth.  I moved slightly to look down
the hall and caught my breath.  He was kissing her.  This guy really
knows how to take his life in his hands.  I stepped back quickly.  Gwen,
of course, knew that I could hear everything that was going on, but I
didn't want Nick to know that I was listening in.
        Gwen's voice was the next one I heard, speaking quietly.  "You're
playing a dangerous game, Nicholas Sterne."
        "It's the only kind worth playing," he murmured.  "Gwen, I've
looked for you for years, haven't been able to think of anyone else.  Now
that I've found you, don't turn me away."
        "Nicholas, no."  She was firm but not unkind.  "There is much
more going on here than you are aware.  I cannot and will not allow you
to endanger yourself, which is what would happen if anything were to
occur between us."
        There was a long pause.  "No questions for three days, huh?
You'd better prepare yourself for a long question-and-answer session when
the time's up."
        "Good night, Nicholas."  I heard the door close, and then Gwen
stalked back into the living room.  "In three days," she stated, glaring
at me, "Nicholas Sterne will be back in Saint Louis with as little memory
of this whole thing as we can manage."  She poured herself a generous
helping of wine.
        I grinned.  It was sort of fun watching Gwen being given a hard
time.  "Was Nick like that?  The real Nick, I mean?"
        She shot me an amused glance.  "I'll wager that Nicholas Sterne
lays as much claim to reality as our Nicholas de Brabant."  She stopped
and seemed to think back eight hundred years, a slight smile on her
lips.  "Well, yes, in some ways he was.  Just as thoughtless.  Just as
impetuous. But Nicholas Sterne is considerably sharper than his
counterpart was at that age. To put it mildly. My chevalier had a certain
style, though, that this Nicholas lacks, that this whole century lacks,
for that matter.  There's a quality of subtlety and grace that seems
quite beyond anyone born in the last hundred years." She suddenly seemed
to remember who she was talking to.  "Kate, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean...."
        "Yeah, I know," I said dryly.  "We're all barbarians.  I've heard
the same line from LaCroix.  I'm sorry this century is such a burden for
all of you.  Maybe in the next one you'll find some bearable company
again."  I started across the room, but Gwen stopped me with a hand on my
shoulder.
        "Kate, I truly am sorry.  You must remember that I am a very old
woman and set in my ways.  I value the old patterns because they're part
of my youth."  She smiled.  "I usually only reminisce with friends near
my own age.  I can see you're going to uncover prejudices I didn't even
realize I had."
        She really seemed sorry.  LaCroix had never apologized.  "Well,
my grandmother never understood the kind of music I listened to."  I
continued across the room toward the open wine bottles to get a refill.
        "So what are we going to do?"
         Gwen was suddenly at my side, taking the bottle out of my hand.
"To begin with, you are not going to have any more wine."
        "Since when did you turn into Nick?"
        "Since there's a mortal in the room next to yours," she said
firmly.  "I want you in control of yourself, Kate.  I told you I don't
want this boy harmed.  There's pure blood in the kitchen to take care of
your hunger.  Have you fed tonight?"
        "Yeah, I hunted," I answered without thinking.
        "Kate."  Gwen set the bottle down and looked me straight in the
eyes.  She looked like a schoolteacher about to launch into the "Kathryn
Bolen, I'm disappointed in you" spiel.  "I sent bottled blood with you so
you wouldn't have to hunt.  I understand the temptation, Kate, I truly
do. But it's dangerous.  You're going to bring suspicion on yourself.
Hunting is risky enough in a large city.  Unusual deaths are even more
noticeable in a small town."
        "Oh, don't worry," I told her impatiently as I broke away and
headed for the kitchen.  "I took care of the body.  It's in the middle of
nowhere miles from my house.  No one will even find it for months.
Besides, weird stuff happens all the time in small towns.  Don't you ever
watch The X-Files?"  I poured my blood and carried it back into the
living room.  "The question is, what are we going to do exactly with our
look-alike now that we've got him?  How are we going to set this up?"
        "I can tell you *when* we're going to set it up," Gwen said as
she sat on the couch.  "Tomorrow night.  I'm not having that child here
any longer than absolutely necessary.  Whatever has to be done must be
taken care of between now and then."
        "Can we do it that quickly?" I asked.  "It's only a few hours
until dawn now."
        "Of course we can."  She smiled at me.  "Money may not be able to
buy happiness, but there is little else beyond its reach.  We can have
everything taken care of during the daylight hours."
        I grinned.  "You have an idea."
        She glanced my way.  "Of sorts.  What we need to do, obviously,
is to let Lucien catch a glimpse of our human friend in a situation where
there can be no question of his mortality.  In the sunlight, for
instance.  That should lead him to jump to conclusions without his
examining our stand-in too closely."
        "But how can he see Nick in the sunlight without being burned
himself?"
        "I have been considering for the past several weeks the
advisability of installing a security system like the one at Nicholas'
loft.  I have had enough of a problem with unexpected visitors in the
past, both mortal and immortal, to warrant it.  Suppose I had a security
camera put in at the door to the building and our friend Nicholas were to
arrive for a visit during the daylight hours."
        I caught on.  "And if LaCroix were here, he'd see him standing in
the sun.  And since he'd just be seeing a video of him, he'd be even less
likely to notice that it's not really Nick."
        Gwen nodded.  "Plus, it has the added benefit of built-in
protection for our mortal Nicholas.  He can be in no danger from LaCroix
as long as he is standing outside the building in the sunlight." She
paused for a moment. "It is late.  I'll call the security company as soon
as they open for business.  And you had better run off to bed, Kate."
        I set down my glass.  I really was a bit tired.  It had been a
very busy night.  "Aren't you going to get any sleep, Gwen?"
        She raised her eyebrows.  "With a mortal boy in my house to worry
about?  I think not.  Don't you remember what happened the last time I
indulged myself in sleep while I had house guests?"
        "Oh."  I grinned sheepishly.  "Better make sure you've hidden
your diary good."
        She laughed.  "Oh, that really would be priceless, wouldn't it?
So much for our secret.  You have just heightened my resolve to stay
awake today.  As I've told you, the older one is, the less sleep one
requires anyway.  You, on the other hand, are young enough to need your
rest."
        "All right, all right.  I'm going."  I stood up and started down
the hall toward my room.
        "Kate."  Gwen's voice stopped me, and I turned around.  "Lock
your door.  The mortal will be up and about in the daylight hours, and we
don't need him stumbling into your bedchamber.  A startled vampire is not
the most reflective of creatures when she's just been awakened."
        "Gotcha.  The Surgeon General has determined that entering this
room can be hazardous to your health.  Night, Gwen."
        She smiled at me.  "Good night, cherie.  It is good to have you
home.  For all the havoc that you seem to bring with you wherever you go,
I must admit that I've missed you."
        So I locked my door behind me and sat down to write in my diary.
It's a bit distracting to hear that mortal heartbeat from the room next
to mine.  It would be so easy just to go in and take him.  But more than
I want the blood, I want my revenge on LaCroix, and that mortal is the
key.  Behind the heartbeat, I can hear Gwen upstairs in her studio
playing a song I don't recognize.  I wonder if it's a new one she just
wrote or an old one that hasn't been played in maybe a thousand years.
I'm going to go to sleep now.  I can't wait for tomorrow night.  It's
like Christmas Eve: the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner it's Christmas
morning.
Part Four
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein the trap is built


        I played music quietly in the studio for the rest of the morning,
waiting for working hours to begin.  Playing is the only thing which will
relieve my mind of any concern with which I might be wrestling.  And,
though I had agreed to the prank, and was actively involved in its
execution, I still had a very bad feeling about it. About Nicholas Sterne
being there at all. Unfortunately, my bad feelings are almost always
borne out, which was not exactly a comforting thought.
        At eight, I called a security company, and spoke to a consultant
about an appropriate system. He seemed surprised when I said that I
wanted it installed that afternoon at the latest, but when I offered to
triple the fee, he readily agreed. As I told Kate, money will accomplish
miracles. The security consultant, I think Bob was his name, said that
he'd have a team over before noon to do the installation, and that it
shouldn't take more than four hours to complete. I thanked him, and hung
up. Well, I thought to myself, at least that was as easily achieved as I
thought it might be.  I went downstairs and poured myself a snack, then
returned to my bedroom, to take a shower and change. Although Nicholas
was already suspicious, I wanted to continue with a veneer of normalcy as
long as possible.  I had to at least appear as though I had slept and
gone through a normal morning routine.
        After that little task I returned to the studio, to resume my
distractions. I was playing a Vivaldi tune when Nicholas stuck his head
through the open door.
        "My God," he blurted,  interrupting me, "you can really play.
That was amazing. Why aren't you playing on the concert circuit? You're
easily good enough."
        "Oh, I did for a while, but it does become boring. Besides, I
prefer to play my own compositions, which are mostly folk music, of
various sorts." I smiled. The last time I played the concert circuit, as
he called it, was several hundred years ago. One can only do a thing so
long, before it loses its charm. Except for the playing itself, which I
never tired of. But I played for my own enjoyment only. It was the
trappings of being a public performer that eventually wore on me.
        "I still take students, occasionally, if they're very
exceptional," I told him. I didn't mention that the exceptionalness that
was required was of the preternatural kind, rather than native mortal
talent.
        "You're a bundle of contradictions," he declared. "You realize
that you only make me more determined to discover every nuance of your
personality." He entered the room and sat down.
        "I assure you that this is not my intention." I looked at him,
settled into one of my playing chairs, as if he were planted there and
had no intention of ever getting up. It irritated me. I hate socializing
in my studio anyway. It is my private space for playing, and I like to
keep it to myself. "Let's go downstairs," I said. "We'll be much more
comfortable on the couch."
        "Oh, afraid to be alone with me?" he joked.
        "You should be afraid to be alone with me, my dear." I snapped at
him. "If you had the sense of a fieldmouse, you'd run the other direction
as fast as you could." I glared at him, for a moment, then concluded,
"And this room is for playing, not for chatting, and it is a private
area. I'm very used to living alone, and I don't take well to people
barging in on me when I'm in the middle of something."
        He looked at me with hurt-puppy eyes, and said, "I'm sorry, I was
just fooling around. I'll go." He started down the hallway toward the
stairs. I watched him for a moment, then caught up with him and took his
arm gently.
        "I didn't mean to snap at you, Nicholas. I'm sorry. I guess I'm
just not a morning person, and I'm a little touchy today besides."
        "Because of whatever it is you're planning?" he asked.
        "Yes, and your presence here," I admitted. "I'm very worried
about you, and I'm particularly concerned that you don't take the
situation seriously enough. You must be very careful, and watch your
back. And most of all, you must do as I ask. If you disobey me in any of
my requests to you, you will undoubtedly be taking your life into your
hands. I'd explain it if I could, but you will simply have to trust me."
        We had reached the living room, and sat on the couch.  I took his
hands, and asked him, "Will you do this, Nicholas? Will you trust me?"
        He looked into my eyes, and whispered, "With my life." And I
thought, you poor child, that's exactly what you're doing, and you still
don't realize it. Then he leaned toward me, and kissed me, ever so
gently. I allowed it for a moment, seduced by his naivete and his blue
eyes. But then I pulled away, and quickly thought of something to
distract him from this dangerous course. "You know, I don't believe I
have anything to eat in the house. Kate and I usually eat out. I'll give
you some money, and you can go get yourself some breakfast." I walked
over to the mantle of the fireplace, opened a black lacquered box, which
was filled with twenty dollar bills, and handed him two.
        "That should be plenty for this morning, shouldn't it?" I asked.
        "I'd say so, yeah. Gwen, is that whole box full of twenties?" He
looked astounded. It was a fairly sizable box, I suppose.
        I responded, "Um, yes. Will two be enough, or shall I send more?
I'm not sure what you'd like."
        "Gwen, I could eat for a week on forty bucks."
        "Oh, well, that seems a bit extreme. You should help yourself to
whatever you need while you're here. That's what the box is for, petty
cash for Kate and me, while she's staying here." I considered him for a
moment. "Here," I said, "take another for good measure," and I took
another bill out of the box.
        "You have a lot of money, don't you?" he asked in an incredulous
tone. He had already figured this out for himself; I didn't understand
why he was making such a fuss about it now.
        "I'm very good with money," I acknowledged. "I always have
plenty, and I can always make more if I run out. It seems very petty to
me to worry about money. There are so many other things that one can
worry about." I closed the box and sat down on the couch again. "And I
meant what I said about helping yourself to whatever you want or need.
You are my guest."
        He stared at me for a moment in disbelief. "You are strange.
Very, very strange." Then he grinned suddenly. "But I like it. I think
sixty bucks should set me up for breakfast, thanks. But why don't you
come with me? I don't want to eat alone."
        I smiled. "Thank you for the invitation, cherie, but I'm going to
work on a composition for a while, and then I'm expecting some workers to
install a security system."
        "Expecting trouble?" he asked.
        "Oh, yes," I replied. Trouble was an understatement. "I have no
doubt of it. But this is more a preventative measure. Now, go get
yourself fed, and we'll talk more when you return."
        "When are you going to eat, though, if you've no food in the
house?" he asked, with a tone of mixed concern and suspicion.
        "Oh, I'll eat later," I answered lightly. "I never eat breakfast.
It makes me ill to eat before noon." And after noon, and at night, I
thought to myself.
        "All right," he sulked. "I suppose I'd better get in the habit of
obeying your every whim."
        I laughed, and said, "That's my boy. An excellent idea!"
        I felt a sense of profound relief when he left. He'd be safe in
the sunlight, and I could relax a bit without him in the house to worry
about. This little game was wearing on my nerves. I thought about it and
decided I'd better drink at least a bottle of pure blood, before he got
back. I wasn't sure when I'd have the chance again, without it being
mixed with concealing wine, and I'd need the strength if I were to hold
my temper.  How, I wondered to myself, did I ever get into this mess?


        While Mr. Sterne was out eating breakfast, the security company
workers arrived, to install my new equipment.  I sat on the couch with a
book in hand, to oversee in a subtle manner.  There were five of them, to
speed the work, I should think. Two stayed downstairs in front of the
building, installing the camera there, and the other three began wiring
the upstairs windows and the door to the apartment. They were surprised
that there were no windows in the downstairs bedrooms, understandably. I
had all the guest room windows plastered up when I moved in, but had left
my own upstairs rooms' windows intact. I could afford to be less cautious
about the light, because of my age. And I liked to watch the stars from
the library. But I thought it was a nice touch to arrange for my guests to
be well protected.  The workers would think me merely eccentric, but I was
surprised my mortal friend hadn't mentioned it. He must be saving it as
one of his questions, I thought. Which hopefully he will never get to ask.
        Nicholas returned while the workers were drilling and taping
things, and sat down on the couch next to me.
        "How was breakfast?" I asked.
        "Oh, very good. I went to a little bakery down the street there.
Great coffee. Have you ever been there?" This last question had a slight
tone of suspicion in it. Never content to allow me a moment's peace, he
was trying to gather information, as subtly as he could.
        "No, I don't believe I have," I answered. "As I said, I don't eat
breakfast, so I've never had occasion to go there." I hated this
dissembling, and keeping track of my lies. That is why I seldom had
mortal friends or even acquaintances any more. I wished that Nicholas
would stop asking so many damned questions, but it seemed to be as
natural and unconscious to him as breathing.
        "Oh," he chirped, still watching my reaction attentively.
        Kate came out of her room then, and saved me. "Good afternoon, or
I should say, good morning," I said to her. She looked around a bit
sleepily.
        "They woke me up," she mumbled.
        "Oh, the noise?" Nicholas asked.
        She glanced at me with an amused expression. "Something like
that," she said. More likely it was the smell of so much mortal blood in
the house.
        "Looks like you were right about the best method to get things
done, though," she observed, glancing at the activity buzzing around the
apartment.
        "Oh, yes." I smiled at her. "They rushed right over."
        Nicholas looked at both of us, frowning a bit. "I get the
distinct feeling that I have no idea what's going on here. As usual. I
can't wait till my three days are up."
        "I'm sorry, Nicholas," I replied. "We shouldn't be rude."
        Just then we heard a loud noise outside, like something heavy
being dropped, or perhaps a car misfiring. The mortal got up and crossed
over to the window, touching the curtain to draw it back.
        "Nicholas!" I exclaimed, stopping him. "Um, would you please go
downstairs and ask the workers to be sure that the camera covers the
entire front of the building?  And buy them some beer or whatever, would
you, while you're at it? It never hurts to butter them up." I rose and
went to the petty cash box, taking out another two twenties. "Here, take
this," I said. "Buy an ample amount."
        "Gwen, I have most of the money from this morning left, I don't
need this." He tried to give the bills back to me, but I pushed them into
his hand.
        "Take it anyway, and go, quickly, please?" I was beginning to
wonder if I would have to use more serious persuasion to get him out of
the apartment.
        "All right, all right. Be back in a little while," he grumbled,
and left the apartment.
        I let out a deep breath, and sank onto the couch. "You know," I
reflected, "I think I may have been going about this all wrong. I don't
need to protect him from us, I need to protect us from him!"
        Kate laughed and sat down next to me. "Yeah," she agreed. "That
guy is a real pain in the ass. Cute, though."
        I nodded, and added, "Well, it doesn't help that we can't tell
him anything about our  ... lives." I was suddenly aware of the workers
in the apartment.  "Shall we adjourn to your room?" I asked, eyeing the
security people pointedly.
        "Oh, yeah," she said, catching my meaning. "That's probably a
good idea."
        We went down the hall to her room, and closed the door.
        "Mortals, mortals everywhere, and not a drop to drink," I joked.
        She laughed. "So what did you want to talk about?"
        "The plan for tonight," I said, sitting down next to her on the
bed. "I'm going to call Janette when she gets up and ask for her help.
You will take Nicholas to the Raven tonight, and keep him there until
well after sunrise, so that there can be no question that it is full
sunlight that he's standing in at the door."
        She frowned. "Wait, that won't work. If it's daylight when I let
Nick leave the Raven, how will I get back to catch the show?"
        "You won't," I replied. She began sputtering protests, but I cut
her off.  "Kate, I told you this at the very beginning, but you obviously
weren't listening. If you are anywhere in the vicinity, Lucien will read
your thoughts and know immediately that it isn't Nicholas de Brabant
outside. I'm sorry, but you'll have to forgo the actual execution of the
plan itself. I promise you, I will describe it  in full detail."
        She looked as if she still could not believe her own ears. "But
.... but that's not fair. It's my idea. It's my revenge. I was the one who
hunted down your little mortal boy. I should be in on the fun."
        "I'm sorry, Kate, but you know it's necessary." I thought for a
moment and then added, "And it's better that you aren't around to be a
target for Lucien, anyway. I have no idea how he's going to react to
this, but it wouldn't surprise me if he reacted badly."
        She muttered something under her breath, which I ignored and
continued speaking quickly to avoid further protest. "Now, we've got to
get you fed before Nicholas gets back. You should probably drink a whole
bottle to keep your strength up, and I'm going to drink another bottle
too, more for the comfort of it than anything." I headed out toward the
kitchen, and Kate followed me, still looking none too pleased.
        This is truly lovely, I thought. I'm lodging a spoiled fledgling
who's grumpy because she can't have her way, and a meddlesome mortal
who'll likely get himself, or Kate, or me for that matter, or all three
of us, killed through his uncontrollable inquisitiveness. Life's
inventiveness is surpassed only by its absurdity.

Part Five
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein Kate pouts


        Kate sulked quietly for the rest of the afternoon on the day of
the prank, but seemed resigned to her fate. Since I am the perpetual
optimist, I thought that she must have seen the good sense of it. The
security system was soon installed, and the workers removed themselves,
much to my relief. I dislike having so many mortals poking around my
house. And they were a temptation to Kate, who is not good at resisting
temptation. Once they were gone, we had only our Nicholas Sterne to
manage. I decided to play for him, hoping that it would keep him
entertained and out of trouble until Kate could get him to the Raven once
it opened.
        I brought a guitar and a violin down into the living room, and
Kate and Nicholas sat on the couch and listened. I hadn't played for that
large an audience since the salon days, I don't believe. I alternated
between the instruments, playing classical pieces and my own
compositions. I think Kate was a bit bored by it, to put it mildly, but
Nicholas was rapt, and at least it kept him from trying to open the
windows.
        This passed several hours, and finally it was evening. I opened a
bottle of red wine, and poured some for Nicholas, hoping to make him a
bit more malleable for Kate. We chatted and drank until the Raven finally
opened at nine. I pulled Kate into the kitchen as casually as I could,
and said, "Okay, Kate, it is finally late enough for you to take him to
the Raven. Get him drunk, if you can, ma cherie. The last thing we need
is his starting on Janette with his ridiculous questions. And send him as
soon as the light is strong tomorrow, around ten or so?"
        She glowered at me. "Okay, okay. I know the plan. And I know, I'm
supposed to keep an eye on him, blah, blah, blah. I get to play
babysitter all night and then hang around the Raven all day to get the
revenge that I won't even get to see. Thank you very much, Mommy Dearest.
Are you happy? Can I go?"
        "Don't sulk, cherie, or I might get out the wire hangers." I
kissed her cheek. "Trust me, getting your revenge will be well worth it.
And who knows, perhaps you will enjoy yourself with our little toy this
evening."
        She just glared at me, in silence, then turned and walked out of
the kitchen. I followed her out.
        "Okay, Nicky-boy, we're outta here," she called, taking her coat
and his out of the breezeway closet.
        "What do you mean?" he asked, looking at me for an explanation,
rather than Kate.
        "You and Kate are going to a friend's club for a while." I
explained. "I have some business to attend to, but I will try to meet you
there later." That was a lie, but I knew that he would never agree to go
if he thought I would be staying home.
        "Well, okay," he agreed reluctantly. "I'll save you a dance." He
took my hand and kissed it, not too ungracefully, especially considering
how little occasion he had in his life for the gesture. I inclined my
head in acknowledgment, and opened the door for them. They went, Kate
tossing a dissatisfied look over her shoulder.  I was beginning to see
why LaCroix had been so eager to allow me to take custody of her. Ah
well, I consoled myself, her education should be complete before long,
and I can send her back to Lucien and let the two of them negotiate their
relationship as they will. What a beautiful thought.


Part Six
Excerpts from Kate's diary, relating Kate and Nicholas Sterne's outing to the Raven

        We took a cab to the Raven.  Flying would have been quicker, but
Gwen had strictly outlawed that as long as Nicky-boy was around.  I
dropped a roll of bills in the driver's hand as we got out of the cab,
including a tip that could probably put his kid through braces.  What the
hell, Gwen was paying.  His eyes widened as he saw what I had given him.
He didn't even stop to count it all before he floored the accelerator and
was around the corner.  Probably afraid I'd change my mind and ask for
change.
        My mortal Nick was glancing around at the darkened windows.  "I
thought we were going to a bar," he complained.  "Where is it?"
        "Around the corner on the next block," I told him and then
grabbed a handful of his leather jacket as he started past me.  "We will
go slowly," I hissed and gave his coat a final jerk that almost knocked
him off balance.  As he stumbled, I took the lead, reaching out
cautiously with my mind to feel for any hint of LaCroix' presence.  That
would be all I needed: to waltz into the Raven with Nick Sterne while
LaCroix had a front-row seat.  So much for my revenge in that case.  Not
that it was turning out to be my revenge anyway, I scowled.  It was Gwen
who was going to have all the fun.  And what did I get to do?  Babysit a
mortal all night and then get stuck at the Raven with Janette all the
next day.  Well, maybe not, I thought defiantly.  Gwen didn't need to
think that she could tell me what to do all the time.  I wasn't her
slave, after all.
        We were approaching the club by that time, and Nick read the sign
over my shoulder.  "'The Raven.'  Is this it?  Why'd you have the cab
leave us so far away?"
        I ignored his questions and put out my arm to stop him in his
tracks.  Just one last check.  I closed my eyes and swept mentally
through the building ahead of us.  Many vampires, but LaCroix wasn't one
of them.  Satisfied, I opened my eyes and turned to the human beside me.
"Listen, Nick.  Stay close to me until we find Janette.  She's a friend
of Gwen's.  She owns the club.  She's gonna need to know who you are to
keep an eye on you tonight.  Whatever she says, goes, understand?  Ignore
her and you could be in big trouble."
        He stared at me a minute.  "I feel like I'm in a James Bond
movie.  What's with all the top-secret, life-and-death stuff?  Is Gwen
tied in with some sort of Canadian mob or something?"
        I laughed.  "Or something.  I thought you weren't supposed to ask
any questions for three days."
       "That deal was just with Gwen.  I never promised her I wouldn't
find out as much as I could from anyone else."
        "Well, Nick."  I took a step closer to him and looked up
into those wide, mortal eyes.  "If it was up to me, you could know the
whole story.  Because I really don't care much what happens to you after
the prank is over.  Right now, though, all I want to know is that you're
going to do what I tell you to do tonight.  Are you going to do that for me?"
        His eyes were fixed on mine, and I could hear his heartbeat.
"Yes," he answered a bit breathlessly.
        I smiled at him.  "Good boy.  Now come on."
        I turned and started toward the door, hearing him shake himself
out of the state I'd had him in and scramble after me.  I shoved my way
through the line of mortals waiting outside and nodded to the vampire
standing sternly at the door.  His eyes grimly acknowledged me and the
blond man pushing after me, then widened in amazement when he heard the
mortal heartbeat.  I grinned as he snapped his head around to peer into
the club after us, not sure whether to trust his own senses.
        I stopped just inside the door, and Nick stopped beside me,
taking in the atmosphere, a foot already tapping with the heavy bass that
poured out of the speakers.  My own eyes swept the room in search of
Janette.  I finally caught sight of her at the far end of the bar and
grasped Nick's arm to get his attention.  "That's Janette there," I said,
raising my voice over the music.  There was a moment before he saw her,
and then I heard him draw in a sharp breath of appreciation.  "Yes, isn't
she?" I muttered too softly for his mortal ears to hear and tugged
impatiently at him.
        Janette, I thought at her, and her eyes rose to see us as we
approached.  She smiled at the sight of the man I was dragging toward her
and arranged herself in a provocative curve against the bar.  We were
halfway there before she suddenly realized what he was.  Her eyes
widened, and she made a convulsive movement that knocked over the glass
of blood and wine on the bar in front of her.  She hissed a curse,
jerking away before the spill could stain the dress she was almost
wearing, and Miklos was there in a moment, wiping away the mess.  I just
barely managed not to laugh out loud.  But seeing her reaction to my
mortal Nick reminded me of LaCroix' reaction that I would not be allowed
to see.  The thought only made me more determined that I wasn't going to
sit around here all night and day waiting for Gwen to have all the fun.
        By the time we reached the bar, Janette had regained her
composure, but her eyes kept flickering up at Nick Sterne in spite of
herself.  "Well, little one," she said in greeting.
        "Hi, Janette," I grinned.  I intended to enjoy every minute of
this.  I could tell she was dying for an explanation, and if she thought
she was going to get one from me, she had another think coming.  "Aren't
you going to offer me a drink?"  She glared at me and gestured
impatiently to Miklos, who set a wine glass in front of me.  I took a
leisurely sip before I continued.  "You seemed a bit surprised to see me."
        "It was my impression that you were in the States," she purred
dangerously.
        "I was," I smirked.  "I'm here now.  Oh, by the way, have you met
Nick Sterne?"
        "I don't believe I've had the pleasure," she murmured, allowing
him to take her hand.  The touch of his warm mortal flesh seemed to
fascinate her.
        "Doesn't he remind you of someone?" I asked.
        She glared at me and pulled her hand away from his, turning his
back on him rather deliberately and assuming an air of extreme boredom.
"No, I can't say that he does."
        "Oh, come on, Janette, think about it for a minute," I encouraged
her with a grin.  "Another Nicholas you know, maybe?"
        She let her eyes run over him again from head to toe and affected
a casual tone of voice.  "Oh, yes.  Now that you mention it, I do see a
slight resemblance."
        I smiled and finished up my drink with one gulp, indicating to
Miklos that I didn't need a refill.  "Nick is a friend of Gwen's.  She'd
like you keep an eye on him tonight and send him back to her apartment
during the day tomorrow.  She'd like him to meet LaCroix."
        Janette arched one eyebrow in interest.  "LaCroix?  I see.  Very,
well, Kate, you may tell Gwen that her . . . friend is safe with me."
        "Great," I grinned.  "Gotta run."
        I turned and headed for the door, but Nick came after me and
caught my arm.  "Wait a minute.  I thought Gwen wanted you to stay here,
too."
        I jerked my arm out of his grasp.  "I think you're a little old
to need a babysitter, don't you, Nick?  Do you really want me here
keeping watch over you all night?"
        He paused.  "No."
        "Then what are you complaining about?  Have some wine.  Eat,
drink, and be merry."  I smiled at him and then turned my back and walked
out of the Raven.  I didn't turn around to see if he was still looking
after me.

Part Seven
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein the bait is set


        As soon as Kate and Nick left for the Raven, I called Lucien's
apartment, to arrange for his visit. The machine picked up. "Lucien," I
said, "this is Gwen. I would greatly appreciate it if you would do me the
favor of appearing at my apartment tonight, to discuss our recent falling
out. I have a few things I need to do, so later in the night would be
better for me. Sometime after midnight, perhaps? I hope to talk to you
soon."
        Attempting to cover all the bases, I called the radio station,
and was told that he wasn't in. I dialed the Raven's number.
        Janette's voice was unmistakable. "Good evening, The Raven," she
said.
        "Ah, Janette. It's Gwen."
        "Oh, hello, Gwen. Your protege and her little toy just arrived,"
she said.
        "Oh good. Janette, I really appreciate your babysitting them this
evening. I hope they won't be too much trouble." That was probably a wish
in vain, but it seemed impolitic to say so.
        "I hope so, too, ma cherie. Between you and Nick it seems I am
lodging all the strays in Toronto." I laughed. Janette affects annoyance
at being put upon, but I have always suspected that she enjoys being useful.
        "Well, I have yet another favor to ask of you, my love," I confessed.
        "And how many more copies of Nicholas do you have running
around?" she joked.
        "No, this is much simpler. If LaCroix should appear this evening,
be sure to get Nicholas Sterne into a back room immediately. And ask
Lucien to meet me at my condominium this evening, sometime after
midnight. Will you do that for me, dearest?" I asked.
        "Of course. I know you're plotting something, cherie. I can't
wait to hear about this once it's accomplished." She laughed. "It will
surely be magnificent."
        "Well, beloved, just keep all thoughts of my machinations from
LaCroix, and keep Nicholas Sterne intact, and I shall be more than
delighted to give you a full account of the proceedings. And you shall
have my eternal gratitude."
        "Ooh," she breathed. "Your eternal gratitude. I shall remember
that. That is a phrase that shouldn't be batted around lightly."
        "Nor do I bat it lightly. This is important to me, Janette. And
most of all, it will be ever so amusing." I giggled, thinking of it. "I
can't wait to tell you. I only hope everything goes as planned. I'll talk
to you soon."
        "A bientot," she said.
        Now there was only to wait. And to think of some way of keeping
Lucien safely occupied while I waited for my decoy to arrive.  This part
of the plan was the most sketchy, and the most personally risky for me.
Thinking back to the last time Lucien was trapped at my apartment for the
day, I realized that perhaps I should have spent a bit more time working
this part out.  I shook my head. Gwen, I thought, what exactly possessed
you to engage in this ill-conceived conspiracy? Revenge, I thought. Just
focus on the revenge and on the look on his face when he believes that
Nicholas made it back across.  I padded upstairs with a bottle in hand,
to nourish myself and attempt a short nap. It would undoubtedly be a long
night, and a longer day afterward. I would need my strength.


Part Eight
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein Kate is disappointed

       I keyed in the security code at Nick's warehouse and rode up to
the loft in the elevator.  He was coming down the stairs pulling on his
coat when I slid open the door.  "Kate," he sighed.  "Why do you always
show up when I'm on my way to work?"
        "Because you work nights?" I guessed, stepping into the room and
slipping off my coat.  "I'm not likely to drop by for afternoon tea."  I
threw my coat across the back of the couch and sat down.  "So what are we
going to do tonight?"
        Nick picked up my coat and held it out to me.  "*We* are not
going to do anything.  I told you I'm on my way to work."
        I stood up and took a few steps toward him, looking up at him out
of the corners of my eyes.  Men like that for some reason. I've never
figured out why exactly, but I don't argue with success. "Nick," I
smiled.  "Can't you get out of it?"
        He dropped my coat into my hands.  "No.  I can't.  I have missed
more work in the time that I have known you, Kate, than I have in the
last three years."
        "Well, it's not like you need a job.  If you're anything like
Gwen, you've got heaps of money just lying around somewhere, and it's
pretty obvious LaCroix isn't exactly short of funds either."  I glanced
curiously around the loft, wondering if Nick had a petty cash box
somewhere like Gwen's.  Gwen's idea of petty cash was would have paid my
rent for the next ten years when I was living in Cheyenne.
        "You're right, Kate," Nick said, going for his car keys.  "I
don't need this job.  I want this job.  And not only that, I want to need
this job.  I'd like to worry about putting food on the table and kids
through school and taking the family to the beach for vacation.  To be
mortal, Kate.  That's what I want.  And I could make a lot more progress
in that direction if you weren't always dropping by here dragging me into
what is, even for the vampire community, the seamier side of life." While
he was talking, he had been striding around the loft turning out lights
and gathering up what he needed for work, and now he stood at the
elevator, holding the door open and looking at me expectantly.  "So if
you wouldn't mind leaving now?"
        I stood staring at him.  "Well, aren't we in a mood tonight?
Where do you get off blaming me for dragging you into the vampire world,
*your* world, Nick, if you'll recall? If it weren't for the fact that you
and LaCroix can't get along, I wouldn't be in the vampire world. I'd
still be one of those mortals you love so much. And I see you at the
Raven with Janette often enough, and you can't blame me for that.  You
don't want to be mortal, Nick.  Oh, yeah, you want your little Ward
Cleaver life with Natalie and a couple of kids and the sweat of your brow
and all that kind of stuff.  Truth, justice, and the Canadian way.  But
then you also want your strength and your abilities and your heaps of
immortal money and your eternal youth.  And your life right now, Nick?
You're enjoying the hell out of it.  It's the best of both worlds.  You
can have your cake and eat it, too.  Natalie, Janette, Gwen, anyone you
want." I hesitated to include my own name. It was too perfect an
opportunity for him to tell me I couls cross myself off that list right
now. His eyes had gone gold with anger, and I knew mine had, too. But no
matter how angry I was, I knew better than to break my rule never to set
myself up for a fall. "Only LaCroix has Gwen now, and it's driving you
crazy because for once in your ridiculous eight hundred year life there's
a woman out there who's not falling all over you and telling you how damn
gorgeous you are."  I quickly made up something to hurt him, the icing on
the cake.  "In fact, LaCroix and Gwen
are in bed together right now.  That's why I'm not at Gwen's tonight."
        I smiled and waited to see what he'd do, but he smiled too around
his fangs.  "Don't bother lying to me, Kate.  I know the truth.  LaCroix
and Gwen have never been lovers."
        "Of course they have," I bluffed.  "I told you about it last time
I was here.  I read it in her diary."
        He shook his head.  "You lied the last time you were here just
like you're lying now.  You wanted to hurt me, and you wanted to
manipulate me.  But you're not going to do it again.  Gwen told me the
truth."
        "Oh, and you believe her instead of me?"
        "Yes," he said.  "I do.  Now, Kate, I believe you were just
leaving?"
        There was nothing I could do.  Nothing but leave.  I stalked past
him into the elevator.  He began to slide the door shut, but I caught it
before it closed.  I would walk into the sun before I'd let him have the
last word.  "You're just like all men. You're only out for yourself. You
play Natalie and Janette against each other, and you're the only one who
wins that game. It doesn't matter to you who has to lose as long as you win."
        I didn't even wait to see if he reacted to that.  I just slammed
the door shut before he could see me start to cry.  Just like all men.
One more to add to the list of those who told me they cared and then
turned against me.  Well, there weren't going to be any more on that
list.  Not ever again.  Someone was going to pay for all the times I'd
been hurt.  I would see to that.

Part Nine
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein Gwen and LaCroix negotiate


        A tap on the bedroom window woke me. I started, and sat up to see
Lucien hovering outside, with an amused expression on his face.
I waved, and headed downstairs to buzz him in. The clock in the living
room said 11:45. I had slept much longer than I had intended to, but it
would probably stand me in good stead.
        I opened the door for him, and he pulled from behind his back a
single rose. "A peace offering."
        I accepted the flower, smiling. Back to the courtly lover, I
thought. Interesting. "Come in," I said. "Can I offer you a glass of wine?"
        "That would be lovely," he replied. He stood until I returned
with the bottle and two glasses, and then settled himself gracefully on
the couch, leaving a carefully comfortable distance between us.
        He was being so civilized that I almost felt guilty, but thinking
of the bruises on Kate's face hardened my resolve. That and the sheer
hilarity of our plan. I opened the wine and poured it generously into the
glasses. I would monitor my alcohol intake carefully, but hoped to at
least soften his guard with the wine.  The large helpings of blood I had
ingested during the day should increase my tolerance, I thought, though
Lucien is as practiced a drinker as I. There would be no hope of getting
him truly drunk without getting that way myself. And I would be needing
all my faculties if something should go wrong. But, I thought, it cannot
hurt to give myself an advantage. My actions would be largely planned,
while he would be thinking on his feet. If his thinking is even the
slightest bit fuzzy, so much the better.
        "Well, Gwen," he said, "what have you been doing with yourself
the past few weeks?" So, I thought, he's starting with small talk, and
the pretense of normality. As if there were anything normal about us,
anyway. But that is excellent. The more time I can kill without saying
anything substantial, the less I'll have to come up with meaningful
conversation to justify my asking him here.
        "Oh, the usual. Writing songs. Teaching Kate. I had a security
system installed, that was quite thrilling," I noted dryly.
        "Yes, I noticed it. Expecting trouble?" he asked.
        I almost laughed. Nicholas Sterne's phrase exactly. "Not
especially," I lied, "but I thought that it might be prudent, with Kate
here. I'm not always tied to this apartment, and she has no experience
with Hunters, or enemies of any kind. It's not likely to protect her
completely, but I thought it might be useful."
        "You just love modern gadgetry," he accused me. "You and
Nicholas. You'll be installing those annoying electric shades next."
        Laughing, I shook my head. "Oh no," I protested. "I shall never
sink so low as that."
        After a brief pause, I inquired, "And what about you? Have you
been hunting ferociously? Terrorizing your listeners?"
        "Oh, I've hunted a bit, here and there. One must be so careful,
in  these times, as you know. It's enough to make me wish for the good
old days, before all this forensic pathology and database link-ups. A
nice, quiet, inconspicuous kill takes great artistry in the modern
world." He shook his head, with the air of an old man decrying the rise
in the price of a loaf of bread.
        "Yes," I concurred. "I have had little success in convincing Kate
of that. I fear she may have to learn the hard way. Then we will both be
forced to relocate, if I can't convince Nicholas to keep the police away
from us. She'd be sure to leave a trail a mile wide for his detective
friends." Though clever, Kate was never prudent.
        "Hm," he mused, with a slight, and slightly evil smile. "Have you
asked me here to beg me to take her off your hands? Had enough, Gwen?"
        I had to laugh. He only wished. He would have liked nothing
better than to get Kate out of the way. She had been a perpetual obstacle
between us. "No, I have committed myself to her education, and I will
complete it. She's not so very far away from being self-sufficient. And
then, it will be her responsibility, if she wants to endanger herself.
She can't say she was not warned," I replied.
        "A somewhat detached attitude, don't you think? Don't you feel a
responsibility to that protege you've sent into the wide world?" he asked.
        "Well, one can only arm them with one's knowledge," I returned,
"and hope for the best. It is her life. If she wishes to throw it away,
or complicate it foolishly, then that is her right. I see my job as her
mentor as only providing accurate information and presenting all the
choices available." I looked at him. "All this could apply just as easily
to Nicholas. That's who we're really talking about, here, isn't it?
Well,  you know what I would do in your situation. What I myself have
done with him; let him go. Perhaps he'll lose his silly infatuation with
things mortal. Or perhaps he'll cross back. But barring his way will only
make him the more determined to fight you. I don't think this project of
his is so different from walking into the sun. It merely takes longer.
And if our loved ones choose death, it is not our place to try to stop
them. If we truly love them, we must let them go, and hope that others do
the same for us when it is our time."
        He examined my face, though what he sought I don't know. "You're
thinking of Marcus, as well, aren't you?" I nodded an admission. He said,
"You know, you two were widely envied in the community. You were so
transparently in love.  I've seldom seen two immortals as passionately in
love as you were. And never for so long. Did that passion finally fade?
Was that what drove him to the sunlight?"
        I shook my head, smiling, thinking how strong his love for me had
been on the very day he died. "No, we loved each other as much on the
last day, more perhaps, as on the first. But he was simply tired. And he
had some strange notion that I would never achieve my greatest potential
as long as he was around to care for me.  I still miss him, do you know?
After all this time. Strange, isn't it?"
        "Perhaps it's only that you hadn't found another high passion to
fill his place," he suggested. Like whom, Lucien? I thought to myself.
        "I don't believe anyone will ever fill Marcus' place," I
retorted. "He was my soul. I've loved deeply since Marcus but never with
such intensity. We were lucky that we found each other, and lucky that we
had centuries together. I try to think of it that way, when I miss him."
        "Don't you long for someone to take that place beside you, as
your companion, your equal?" he demanded.
        "I've never found anyone who was able. You seem to be hinting
toward yourself, Lucien. But we have so little in common. Our values are
utterly at odds.  I've discussed this with you so many times before, you
must know that it's impossible." I was exasperated. "Surely you don't
believe that we could make each other anything but miserable. We are
already at each other's throats, and we haven't even begun anything."
        He smiled seductively at me. "But that's exactly where I want to
be, at your throat, Gwen.  To taste your blood, the essence of your life,
your experiences. . ."
        A small thrill shivered through my body at this image, but I
scowled at him, and said, "You know what I mean.  We'd only end up hating
each other again."
        "Would we? Is that what you're so afraid of, Gwendolyn? Or is it
the opposite? Perhaps it is that I am the only one with the strength to
take Marcus' place, and that would mean releasing your habitual mourning
of him, truly letting him go? Are you most afraid of hating me or loving
me, my beauty?" At this, he rose, and went to the kitchen, presumably for
another bottle of wine.
        I sat there, stunned. My certainty about him was sliced in half.
So much of what he said cut straight to the heart of my dilemma. Of
course I feared loving him, because he was brutal, cruel. But could he be
right, that a component of my fear was finally allowing someone to take
Marcus' place? I felt suddenly cornered, as I frequently did with
LaCroix. He returned with the bottle and sat down, a bit closer than before.
        "So, why did you call me here? To make perfectly platonic
arrangements of truce? To berate me for my mistreatment of Kate? To
surrender?" He spoke  the last with a sly grin.
        "Though you do deserve a severe berating for the awful beating
you gave Kate," I told him, "I called you here merely to discuss
treaties.  If there is to be peace between us, you must cease tormenting
her. And you must treat her with a certain amount of respect." It was
nearing  dawn, and I thought that this negotiation should certainly take
long enough to keep Lucien there until the sun rose and trapped him.
        "And what," he asked predictably, "do I gain from this treaty?"
        "Peace," I replied. "The renewal of my friendship"
        "Ah," he said. "A worthy prize. Very well, I accept."
        "What?"
        "I accept your terms. In fact, I hereby relinquish all rights to
Kate Bolen, and give her to you, to do with as you will. I am no longer
responsible. She's your responsibility, totally. I will never interfere
with her again. Does this satisfy you?" he asked, with a false innocence.
        "But . . . I mean, yes, yes it does. It is that simple?" I was
astounded. Wasn't he going to argue with me?
        "Of course that simple. But why not? We are both adults, are we
not? Can't we negotiate such a little thing as the possession of a
fledgling?"
        I didn't know what to say. "Well, there's no reason why not, I suppose."
        He looked at me. "And what about your retribution for my
disciplining her while she was under your protection?"
        "What about it?" I asked, trying to extend the conversation for
as long as possible.
        "Do you give up the right of vengeance?"
        "Lucien," I began, thinking desperately of some way to change the
subject. My mind was flashing ideas at me like lightning, most of them
utterly ridiculous. I had to think of something, something convincing,
and quickly. Something that would hold his attention totally.
        I kissed him. This was the best idea I could come up with, on
such short notice. Perhaps it was a terrible one, but my body didn't seem
to think so. My rational mind told me that the sun was up now, and
Nicholas Sterne would be here in just a few hours, if I could hold out
that long. My body informed my brain that Nicholas and Kate could both go
hang themselves.
        Lucien embraced me, and the already passionate kiss became
deeper. I could feel his hands on my back, my hands running across his
shoulders, touching his hair.  He pulled slightly away, and bent toward
my neck. I could feel his breath on my skin, and as I kissed his neck,
running my now-extended fangs lightly across the skin,  I could smell his
rich, ancient blood pulsing beneath.  I felt him shiver, and then his
fangs were in my neck, and I felt the first waves of ecstasy crashing
down on me. I buried my own teeth in his flesh, and was flooded with
images, tastes, sounds, the essence of Lucien LaCroix, in all his flaws
and  glories.  Eventually, we pulled apart. My head was still swimming,
but I felt a strange triumph and a fierce sense of joy. Somewhere in my
mind, confusion whirled. But lust had triumphed over reason. Doesn't it
always?
        Lucien smiled at me, an amazing, contented, charming smile.
"Shall we continue this upstairs?" he murmured. Without even waiting for
my answer, he rose, and pulled me up after him by the hand. As he led me
to my own bedroom, I uttered not a phrase in resistance. It was wrong. I
knew it was wrong. But I wanted it anyway, I wanted him anyway, and have
him I would. All thoughts of revenge were laid aside for the time being,
as we explored each other hungrily,  gluttonous after months of
deprivation. If the neighbors heard us, they wisely did not call to complain.

Part Ten
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein the trap is sprung


        Ten o'clock passed unnoticed, but by eleven thirty I realized the
time and began to be concerned that Nicholas Sterne hadn't yet arrived.
Lucien was sleeping soundly, but I was wide awake, consumed by worry and
fretting over what I had allowed to happen. I looked at the creature
lying beside me, and wondered how everything had gotten so out of
control. From the moment I had moved to Toronto, events seemed to twist
out of my hands. Every decision I made complicated things more. First
taking Kate on as a protege, then agreeing to this ridiculous plan, then
taking Lucien as my lover in the very middle of my revenge. How Marcus
would have laughed at me! "Your passions always get the better of you, my
love."  I could almost hear him saying it.  There was no way of knowing
how Lucien would react to our little prank, now. Now that he had his
victory over my scruples, he might not be concerned at all. Perhaps that
was all he wanted from me, and he wouldn't feel betrayed. Or he might be
utterly incensed. No way to predict Lucien's behavior, in the best of
circumstances. And how would Kate feel about this? And Nicholas? Nicholas
de Brabant, that is. But what about Nicholas Sterne, as well? What to do
with him? The more I thought about these knotted circumstances, the more
ill I felt. I rose, and went downstairs to fortify myself with some
nourishment. I might need all my strength. If Sterne ever showed himself,
that is.  I had passed several hours in staring at the ceiling and making
myself a nervous wreck, and it was now late afternoon.
        As I pulled the cork out of the bottle, the doorbell rang. My
heart leaped. That must be Nicholas Sterne. I hadn't bothered to put even
a robe on, and I dashed upstairs to clothe myself. I pulled on a long red
silk kimono,  drinking thirstily from the bottle as quickly as I could.
Lucien stirred, opening his eyes languorously.
        "What are you in such a panic about?" he asked me.
        "I've been expecting someone, and he's arrived. Someone you'll
want to see, I'm certain."
        "Oh, really?" he inquired. "Who is it?"
        "Come and see for yourself." I couldn't help smiling, for all my
anxiety.
        He pulled on his clothes, not bothering to tuck his shirt in. I
headed downstairs, and he followed.
        I looked into the video screen, and saw Nicholas Sterne. I
affected delight and surprise. "He's done it. I can't believe it!  He
said they thought they were close, but he's actually done it!"
        "What?" LaCroix demanded suspiciously. "Who is it?"
        "Look," I responded and moved over so that he could see the
screen. "It's Nicholas. He's made it back across." Sterne stood at the
door, with the late afternoon sunlight streaming all around him.
        Lucien began to curse in Latin, his words tumbling over each
other so I could barely understand them.  He looked absolutely panic
stricken, and I could see the gears of his mind turning, thinking of a
way to bring Nicholas back.
        I spoke into the speaker. "Nicholas, I'm afraid I am a bit
indisposed at the moment, dear. Could you come back later this evening?"
At this, Sterne was to say, of course, and go back to the Raven until I
gave the all clear. I didn't want him to spoil the illusion too quickly
by saying very much.
        But instead, he responded, "Why not let me come up for a just a
moment? I have something I want to discuss with you."
        And with that, he let himself into the building. I was stunned. I
hadn't given him the security code, and I had no idea how he had obtained
it. And now he was on his way up toward a confrontation with a very
panicked and pissed off LaCroix. I stood there, trying to think of some
way to avert disaster, but disaster was already on it's way up the
stairs.  I couldn't decide if I should move the party into the hallway or
if it would be better to keep any possible altercations to the privacy of
the apartment.
        Lucien's face was triumphant. Once he was out of the sunlight, it
would be child's play to bring Nicholas over again. But it was the wrong
Nicholas. I could hear Sterne in the hallway, and Lucien put his hand on
the deadbolt, unlocking it.
        I laid a restraining hand on him, but he pulled away from me,
just as Sterne opened the now-unlocked door himself,  pausing in the
doorway, looking rather shocked both to find us so close to the door, and
in dishabille. I grabbed his arm, pulled him quickly through the doorway
past LaCroix and  thrust him behind me. Now Lucien would have to get
through me to get to Nicholas, and this was not an easy task.
        Lucien's fangs were extended and his eyes dark gold, and he
snarled, "Get out of the way, Gwen. This is not your concern."
        He stepped toward us, and I pushed him away. I had fed that day,
and he had not, which gave me a physical advantage. At least my planning
had done some small bit of good, though this was exactly what I'd hoped
to avoid.  There would be no hiding what I was from Nicholas Sterne, now,
though. All my monstrous attributes were just as visible as LaCroix's. It
was now time to try to get the situation under control
        "Lucien," I reasoned, "it's a prank. My revenge. Look at the boy,
closely." He did so, first a glance and then a longer examination. "This
is not Nicholas de Brabant. It's a mortal, Nicholas Sterne."
        "It is," he realized, his relief evident in his tone. The panic
edged from his face, to be replaced by dark anger, turned towards me.
"You tricked me," he said, his voice fading into a taut whisper.
        I stepped toward him. "Only about this, a harmless prank, you
must admit. My revenge for your  disrespect of my protection of Kate. Now
we are even." I began to laugh, a bit nervously.  "A harmless, quite
amusing prank."
        He was not amused, however. "And this morning? Was that merely
the only way you could keep me here to see him in the sunlight?"
        I sobered. "Oh, that was quite genuine. Foolish, no doubt. My
passions getting the better of my reason, certainly. But quite, quite
genuine."
        He glowered at me like a petulant child, glancing once more at
the mortal behind me, and then he turned and was out the door in an
instant. The sun was just about to set, and he'd be risking burns by
leaving so soon, but he would be able to make it back to his apartment
without serious harm.
        I wondered if that was a declaration of war. I imagined I would
find out soon enough.  I pushed my hair out of my face, and resumed my
human countenance, my mind ablaze with questions and worries and fears.
        From behind me, Nicholas Sterne spoke, with a shaking voice.
"Well, that was very exciting."

Part Ten, Continued
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein the trap is sprung

I turned to look at him. I had all but forgotten about him for a moment.
I fixed him carefully with my eyes, about to try to wipe all knowledge of
what happened from his mind, but he stopped me.
        "That hypnotism crap isn't going to work this time, Gwen. You
might be able to use it to get me to go to bed early, but this is the big
time. I want to know what's going on, and what the hell you are. You owe
me at least that." He folded his arms across his chest and looked at me
defiantly.
        I thought about the situation, and realized that he couldn't be
in any more danger than he was already. I felt I owed him some answers.
And I admired his curiosity and strength of will, no matter how much of a
nuisance it made him. It was unfortunate that he had stumbled into a
circumstance where curiosity was not an adaptive behavior. I decided to
allow him to ask his questions, if he really wanted to, and worry about
wiping his memory of it later. If we all survived.
        I sighed and pulled my robe closer around me. "All right," I
admitted. "You're right. But realize that you ask for this knowledge, and
I have warned you that merely possessing it will put your life in danger."
        He nodded impatiently.
        "Let's sit down then, and I'll try to be as concise as possible."
We sat on the couch. "Firstly, I think what we are, what I am, is fairly
clear." It's  a riddle, Nicholas, I thought giddily. Figure it out.
What's pale and fanged and nocturnal all over?
        His voice broke into my thoughts. "You're a vampire, aren't you?"
I nodded. "It makes sense," he commented. "The windows, your not eating,
the money, the exquisite playing, everything. How old are you?"
        "About sixteen hundred, give or take a year or two," I responded,
then added, "though it's never polite to ask a lady about her age."  This
was a weak attempt at humor. Obviously, I am no lady.
        He regarded me with awe, ignoring my little joke. "Wow, so you
were born around 400 AD? That's amazing. And that was the favor you
wanted me to do?  Just to show up here, and look like somebody else? What
was that guy so pissed off about? And who was he anyway?"
        I laughed at this cascade of inquiry. "I believe you're making up
for not being able to ask your questions before," I observed. "Shall I
start at the beginning of the list? I don't know my exact birthdate; we
didn't keep track of such things then. But I was born in the vicinity of
370 AD, by the current calendar. And yes, that was the favor, although I
expected you here much earlier, and you weren't supposed to come
upstairs. You would have been perfectly safe if you'd stayed outside in
the light.  Didn't Kate give you your instructions before you left the
Raven?"
        "No," he answered. "She split last night, and left me with some
woman named Janette. I guess she's a friend of yours, right? Beautiful
woman, but she seemed a bit annoyed with me. Is she a vampire too?" It
suddenly seemed to occur to him that the majority of my acquaintances
might be vampires.
        "I don't think Janette's statut de mort has anything to do with
our present situation. So Kate didn't tell you to arrive here at ten, and
to go back to the Raven once you'd talked to me from the door?" Then
where did she go instead of the Raven, and where is she now? I wondered
silently.
        "No. She just told me to do whatever Janette said, and then she
left. I haven't seen her since." He frowned at me. "I thought it was my
turn to ask questions."
        "Oh, of course. I'm sorry, go ahead." I replied. Then I had to
interrupt again. "I'm sorry, just one more thing. I have to know - how
did you get the security code?" Now, that was a major mystery.
        He laughed. "Oh, that. Well, when I was cozying up to the
security system installers, drinking beer with them and just watching
them work, I casually dropped a hint that I didn't remember the code.
They assumed that I was "the man of the house" and reminded me of it.
Piece of cake, actually."
        "Ah." I intoned. "I shall  have to change it. All right, go ahead
with your other questions. I'm sorry to interrupt."
        "Okay, what about that guy who was here this afternoon?" he continued.
         A request for  fourteen hundred years of personal history in a
nutshell and a question much more complicated than it sounded. I would
have to attempt to restrict myself to the immediately relevant. "His name
is Lucien LaCroix. He is one of my kind, very powerful and potentially
very dangerous.  He brought Nicholas de Brabant, whom you resemble,
across the threshold of mortality. This makes him something of a cross
between a father, a brother and a lover to Nicholas. Lucien was annoyed,
to put it mildly, because he thought that his child had managed to become
human again. Which Nicholas is trying to do, and which Lucien does not
want."
        He looked at me closely as if he were having trouble following
all of it. I couldn't blame him. "Okay," he said. "I think I get it. My
look-a-like is a vampire, too?" I nodded. "And this LaCroix guy is your
lover? That's why you wouldn't make love to me last night?"
        Oh, we're back to this, are we? I thought. You'd think that the
news that his intended was an inhuman, bloodsucking monster might dampen
his libido a bit. "I wouldn't make love to you last night for the exact
reason I told you. The more entangled you become with our kind, the
slimmer the chances you will make it home alive and in your present
mortal state. Lucien and I did not have . . . this kind of relationship
until this morning, and I'm not sure I really want it to be common
knowledge. So keep it to yourself, please?"
        He smiled. "You can count on my discretion. But what's the
problem with you two, that you don't want anyone to know?"
        I sighed. What's the problem? What isn't the problem?  That is a
whole conversation in itself,  I thought.  But I wasn't about to pour my
heart out to this mortal. "It's entirely too long and complicated to
explain," I told him. "Suffice it to say that we have a very long, very
tumultuous history, that we have been enemies for the last eight hundred
years or so, and I am very confused right now."
        He grinned brightly at me. "So, you're not too attached to this
guy, huh?" Hope springs eternal. If the knowledge that I wasn't even
technically alive wasn't enough to discourage him, nothing would, I
supposed. Was I attached to Lucien? I wondered.
        "I don't know what I am," I finally stated, "but if you're
imagining that I would take a mortal lover with Lucien LaCroix skulking
around and probably on the war path, you must be out of your mind." I
shook my head. "I'm sorry, Nicholas, it just isn't meant to be."
        "So, make me one of you. Then I'd be able to take care of myself.
And we could spend the centuries together. I want to be with you, Gwen.
Don't you understand? I don't care what it takes. I want to be by your
side, your immortal lover through the centuries." He took my hand, and
bared his neck to me. The blood beneath his skin smelled fresh and sweet.
I could hear his heart pounding, and I was so tempted to take him, not to
bring him over, but simply to feed my bloodlust. I pulled my hand away
from him, and slid a bit farther away on the couch.
        I was supposed to be protecting him, not dining on him. And
brining him over, oh, that would be great fun. Spend the rest of eternity
chasing both Kate *and* Nicholas, trying to keep them out of trouble and
out of Lucien's way. This was not my idea of a good time.
        "No, Nicholas. Even if you understood the ramifications of what
you asked -"
        "Understand the ramifications?" he asked, raising his voice a
bit. "I don't need to have lived 1600 years to realize that my life isn't
worth a plug nickel without you around to protect me. If this Lucien
person, or any of your other pallid pals should decide I know too much,
I'm history, right?" He looked at me. "Right?"
        I admitted it.
        "So work the change on me, for my own protection, if nothing
else,"  he demanded.
        "That wouldn't afford you much protection against Lucien," I
retorted. "He's old, and therefore very strong. And he's just as likely
to kill you simply for having been here as for anything else. Bringing
you across would not change the situation very much. And besides, I can't
take on another fledgling right now. I've got my hands full teaching
Kate. I'd be cheating both of you of your full education. I won't do
it."  Even I had limits to both my energy and my stupidity.
        "But, Gwen -" he began but I stopped him.
        "Nicholas, listen to me for just a moment." I looked into his
eyes, not to force his will, but merely hoping to convince him.  "You
should go back to St. Louis, and enjoy the blessings of your mortal life.
Sunlight, children, a clear conscience. Don't chase this dark dream of
immortality. I let you go in St. Louis because I didn't want to endanger
you. Please save yourself. Go back, and forget that any of this happened.
Let me believe that I did not destroy one mortal life that I touched."
        "Gwen, you haven't destroyed me. You've brought me life, passion,
love. The magic I always knew lurked beneath the surface of the everyday.
I can't give that up now. Besides, I've always hated the sun. I never
wanted children. I don't care about all that suburban crap. I want you. I
want this fantastic existence you can give me, the opportunity to read
every book I never had time for, complete every project that fell by the
wayside. The time to convince you to love me. "
        I sighed. I could see visions of gothic romance dancing in his
eyes. It would be very difficult to talk him out of this, I realized. And
I was sick of thinking about it.  "Look, Nicholas, I think we should talk
about his some more tomorrow. I'm tired of worrying about our
predicament. Let's go out to the Raven for a while, and try to forget
about it, okay? And we'll start where we left off in the afternoon."
        "Sure, Gwen. Even an abbreviated mortal life like mine should be
able to spare a few hours for relaxation." He smiled at me, and I just
looked at him and shook my head.  The expression skating on thin ice
seemed to have no meaning to Nicholas.
        "I'm going upstairs to take a shower and get dressed," I informed
him.  "Don't let anyone in, if you can help it." I climbed the stairs,
cursing under my breath all the way. I wondered if Marcus was watching
from somewhere, laughing hysterically, as he always used to do.
Part Eleven
Excerpts from Kate's diary, relating Kate's revenge of a different sort


       The Southern California night felt pleasantly warm to me after all
the time I'd been up in Toronto. I knew I had missed LA, but I didn't
realize how much until I was there again.  I hadn't been there since that
night of the audition when LaCroix had found me.  Things had definitely
changed since then.  I remembered that night very well, glancing over my
shoulder with every step that I took alone on these dangerous streets, in
my cheap clothes, heading back to Cheyenne and that roach motel of an
apartment.  Now I was wearing clothes that would have cost me a month's
rent in those days, owned a house in Missouri, and was resting on a
cushion of four million
in the bank.  Not bad in exchange for giving up a suntan.  Not to mention
that I didn't have to look over my shoulder anymore.  All those years of
getting used to being afraid of strangers, and now, if they knew what was
good for them, strangers ought to be afraid of me.  I laughed as I
rounded the corner and got a strange look from a hooker.  I was so aware
of all the mortal hearts beating around me, so many nameless, faceless,
dispensable lives that the disappearance of just one wouldn't ever be
noticed.  It was tempting, but I wanted all my hunger for what lay ahead
of me.
        The streets were getting more familiar.  Mike's condo was in a
nice part of town but not as nice as the hotel I could afford now.  It
wasn't long before I was at the door.  It was locked, of course, like any
sensible person in LA would keep it, but that was no problem for me.  I
could break the lock, I mused, with a simple twist of my wrist or just
tear the door off its hinges if it came to that, but there was no need
for such dramatic measures.  After all, I smiled, I was just an old
friend dropping by for a visit.  What's so suspicious about that?  I
pressed the bell.  This was going to be fun.
        The look on his face when he opened the door and saw me almost
paid me back for missing LaCroix' reaction to seeing my mortal Nick.  I
would imagine that of all the women he'd screwed over in his life, I was
the one he least expected to ever see again. The more penniless they are,
the fewer problems they can create later. Even after all he'd done to me,
though, his looks still made even my immortal stomach turn somersaults.
Those eyes the color of coffee left in the bottom of the cup widened
behind the glasses he wore to give himself an intellectual air.  "Hi,
Mike," I grinned.  "Aren't you going to ask me in?"  I ducked under his
arm into the hallway before he could answer.
        "Kate."  He swung the door shut and turned to watch me as I
strolled around the living room.  He'd changed a few things since I'd
lived there, mostly the pictures.  They were all of another woman now, or
I should say a girl.  He took a few steps toward me and stood uncertainly
in the doorway.  "Kate, what are you doing here?"
        I ignored him.  "This is my replacement, I guess?  The girl that
you kicked me out so she could move in?  She's very pretty.  And not
quite young enough to be your daughter.  Very classy, Mike."
        "Kate," he repeated more firmly, "what are you doing here?"
        "Oh, I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop in.  That
chair is new.  Did she pick it out?  I don't like it.  What's her name?"
        He came closer to me as if he meant to usher me out.  "It doesn't
matter.  Kate, I think you ought to . . . ."
        I fixed him with my eyes and listened for the throb of his
heartbeat.  "I want to know her name, Mike," I said very quietly.
        He took a shaky breath.  "Angie.  Her name is Angie."  He broke
eye contact and turned his head away in confusion.  Mike was not
accustomed to not being in control.
        "Angie.  What a nice name.  She's not here?" I asked, glancing
around the room.
        "No, she won't be home for a few hours."
        "What a shame," I sighed.  "I would so like to meet her.  Well, I
guess I can just see her when she comes home."
        "Kate," he said, trying to reassert control, "you will not be
here when she comes home."
        I smiled.  "One of us won't be."
        "What?"
        "Don't worry about that now, Mike.  There's plenty of time for
that."  I sat down on the couch and made myself comfortable.  "Let's just
spend some time getting caught up, shall we?"
        He glared at me for a moment or two and then seemed to give in
and perched himself on the arm of a chair across the room.  "Fine, Kate.
I don't know what sort of game you're playing, but I'll go alone with it
for a little while.  But then you are leaving, understand?"
        "Oh, I'll be glad to leave," I told him, "as soon as I've done
what I came for."
        "And what is that, Kate?  Why are you here?"  He was on his feet
again and pacing.  He needed a haircut, I noticed.  That thick shock of
chestnut hair was falling forward almost into his eyes.  "Why have you
waltzed back into my life and my home out of nowhere?  What do you want?
Money?  You're not going to get it."
        I stood up slowly.  "No, I don't want your money.  You wouldn't
give me anything when you threw me out, and I had nothing then, for food,
for a place to stay, for anything.  If you wouldn't give me money then,
why should I expect any now?  Besides, I don't need money anymore. Things
have changed since then."
        Mike had stopped pacing and was eyeing me suspiciously, his brow
creased as it always was when he was thinking.  The sense of familiarity
was overpowering, being in that room again, sitting on that couch, seeing
him, that tall, slender but powerful frame.  Just like old times, except,
of course, for Angie's perky little face smiling at me from photographs
and the enticing scent of Mike's blood.  "So you're saying what?  You got
a job?"
        "It all started with an audition, yeah."  I crossed the room to
stand closer to him.  "You know, Mike, the money thing's not the only
thing that's changed since then.  You remember how you used to get upset
with me for eating sweets?  It was for my own good, of course, the way
you told me how I was going to be a fat slob and no one would hire me.
You were just looking out for my welfare."  I took a step closer.  I was
almost in his arms.  "I don't eat sweets anymore, Mike, not at all.  If
you took me back, you'd never have to worry about that again."
        He snorted and shoved his way past me into the center of the
room.  "Is that what this is all about?  You think I would ever consider
taking you back?  Get over yourself, Kate.  I told you it was over months
ago.  I have moved on.  I have someone else now.  I have a life.  Just
because you don't is no reason to assume there's any chance I'd let you
come back here.  I'm not attracted to you, Kate.  Deal with it."
        I shook my hair back over my shoulders.  "You used to tell me
that you loved me.  You said we'd be together forever."
        "And you were naive enough to believe that?" he asked.  "Forever
is a long time."
        I laughed.  "You have no idea.  So did you promise Angie the same
things?  How long is forever going to be for her?  How long before you
move on to someone younger still?"
        He folded his arms across his chest.  "I think you should leave
now, Kate."
        "Oh, I don't think so," I answered.
        His expression had become completely cold.  "Then I will have to
*make* you leave."  He strode across the room and grabbed my arm roughly,
intending to put me out the door by force, I assume.  But even as he used
all his considerable strength, I didn't move an inch.  I smiled slowly as
his eyes widened in bewilderment.  "What the . . . ?"
        Deliberately, I let my eyes go gold and felt my fangs extend.
His mouth dropped open, and he almost fell over the coffee table as he
scrambled backwards to get away from me.  "I told you things had
changed," I breathed as I stepped slowly toward him.  There was nothing
but a wall behind him, no way out, and he cringed against it as I approached.
        "Oh God.  No.  This can't be happening," he whimpered.  "Kate.
No, please.  Please, Kate."
        I stopped when I was almost touching him.  I was close enough to
feel the warmth from his body.  I let my eyes linger on his strong neck
and ran the edge of my tongue deliberately along my upper lip.
        "Kate, please," he begged.  "Please don't kill me.  Please."
        My eyes softened as I looked at him tenderly.  "Mike."  I raised
my hand to his face.  He closed his eyes in terror as I traced my fingers
softly down his cheek and jaw and continued downward to stroke his square
shoulder and broad chest.  With my other hand, I gently pressed his
fingers.  I knew the feel of them so well.  His hands were strong but
sensitive for a man, with long, nimble fingers.  Musician's hands, I
thought suddenly, thinking of Gwen.  I rested my head where it fit so
well against his chest beneath his chin.  With the sudden change of mood,
I could feel the tension begin to ebb out of his body.  "Mike, I couldn't
ever hurt you.  I love you."  I wrapped my arm around his trim waist and
gently pulled him a few steps away from the wall.  "You know that, don't
you, Mike?  You know how I love you?"
        I could feel his relief wash over him like a flood as he gasped
for breath.  I nuzzled a last kiss into the base of his throat before I
pulled back a few inches so he could see my face again.  "It's so cute,"
I told him breathlessly as my eyes flashed to dark amber, "that you
actually believe that."  And then I killed him.

Part Eleven
Excerpts from Kate's diary, relating Kate's revenge of a different sort


         Gwen's taste is for the sweet blood of those who die peacefully.
LaCroix taught me the hunt and the sharp taste of fear.  Janette
introduced me to blood mixed with wine, and Nick showed me the ecstasy of
drinking immortal blood in a moment of passion.  But none of these can
begin to compare with the delicious flavor of revenge.  I took my time
about it, draining him slowly, wanting to enjoy every second.  I was so
caught up in the taste of his blood, the sound of his final heartbeats
that I never even heard the footsteps behind me.
        "That's my girl."  I had sunk to the floor, cradling Mike's body
in my arms.  At the sound of LaCroix' voice, I jumped to my feet, letting
Mike's corpse tumble and sprawl across the carpet.  I had no idea what to
expect from LaCroix, but he just stood in the doorway and smiled at me
quietly.  "Did you enjoy that?"
        Breathless and still on my guard, I nodded.  "Yes."
        He glanced down at Mike and then up at me again.  There was a
moment thick with silence and then he stepped around the body on the
floor and moved in my direction.  I was struck by a sudden impulse to
run, to get far away from him, but there was nowhere to run to and I knew
that he could run far faster than I could if it came down to that.  When
he was only inches away from me, he stretched out his hand toward my
face.  I flinched when he touched me.  I felt the coldness of his
fingertip stroke across my lower lip, and then he drew his finger away
red with Mike's blood and put it to his mouth.  He gave a delighted smile
at my reaction to his closeness.  "Why, Kate, you're not afraid of me,
are you?"
        "No," I breathed, but even as I mouthed the word, I knew that he
knew that it was a lie.  I saw his eyes begin to glow and his fangs
extend as he stepped even closer to me.  I could almost feel his breath
on my face.  Again he raised his hand and ran a slow, cold caress along
my cheek.  I couldn't keep a shiver from running through me, and he
smiled more widely as he felt it.  I was ready to take my chances at
running at this point, but I felt paralyzed as he lowered his face to my
neck.  He laid the points of his fangs teasingly against the flesh just
over an artery and traced the path of the blood vessel up my throat.  His
strong hands had a firm grasp on my arms, and the coldness of his body
pressed against mine.
        He had never touched me this way before, never.  Never except
when he brought me across.  I felt like I was suffocating or drowning.
Finally, in a moment of panic, I rediscovered my ability to move and
pushed against him.  I know my strength is nowhere near his, but he let
me go, looking amused.  "I thought that was what you wanted, Kate."
        I thought it was too, once. To be his lover and share his blood.
But he was . . . .  He was just too much.  Too much power, too many
years.  He frightened me.  I never understood the expression "playing
with fire" until that moment with LaCroix.  If Gwen wanted him, she was
welcome to him.  Maybe she was strong enough to handle him without losing
herself.  I eyed him warily. He didn't look angry, but appearances can be
deceiving.  "If you're going to kill me, LaCroix, do it and get it over
with."
        He raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "Kill you?  Oh, I assume
you're referring to that amusing little trick Gwen played on me.  Very
clever, you know.  It was your idea, wasn't it?"  I knew I didn't have to
answer him out loud.  "Yes, I thought so.  But you didn't get to be in on
the fun, did you?  So you came here."
        "How did you find me?"
        "Kate," he said reproachingly.  "You are mine.  I created you.
Wherever you go, I will always be able to find you."  He looked back down
at the corpse on the floor.  "I must admit, I quite approve of this
little trip."  He raised his eyes back to mine.  "Revenge is sweet, isn't
it?"
        I smiled in spite of myself.  "Don't be afraid to admit it,
Kate.  Never be ashamed of what you are.  I gave you this power.  This is
what it is for."  He gestured to Mike.  "You should have been here for
the old days, Kate.  We could take anyone we wanted, and no one dared
challenge us.  Those were hunts."  He drew in a deep breath and for a
moment seemed lost in his memories.  With an expression of distaste, he
drew himself back into the present.  "Today, however, we must be more
careful about cleaning up the messy details."  He strode to the door of
the condo and called out into the night.  "Angie, come in here."
        The girl from the pictures walked in, a duffel bag slung over her
shoulder.  Apparently, from the way she was dressed, she was some kind of
aerobics instructor.  Typical of Mike.  She didn't look at me or at her
dead lover or at anyone really.  Instead, she was staring blankly at the
wall, and I realized that LaCroix had her under his control, far more
deeply than I had ever seen anyone put under before.  I was impressed.
        "She got here while you were dispatching your friend here,"
LaCroix explained in an off-hand manner, "and I certainly didn't want her
to disturb you while you were dining.  Angie."  He raised his voice.  "Go
into the kitchen and bring me a large knife."  She turned and walked out
of the room with no more expression than before.  It was kind of creepy,
even for me.
        LaCroix stepped over to the corpse and placed the toe of his boot
against Mike's neck, just under the chin.  He closed his eyes in
concentration and just barely twisted his ankle, and I heard a soft snap
as the spine cracked.  "Just to make sure," he explained kindly as Angie
sleepwalked back into the room with a butcher knife.  "Ah, here we are."
He removed a crisp handkerchief from his pocket and expertly wrapped it
around the knife's handle as he took it from her.  Kneeling, he
skillfully made a deep cut across Mike's throat directly through the
marks of my fangs.  "A few more fingerprints, if you please," he ordered,
handing the knife back to Angie and returning his handkerchief to his
pocket.  "That's enough.  Put it in your bag."  He didn't even glance at
her to make sure she did it.  Instead, he took a roll of bills from his
inside coat pocket and dropped it in her bag with the knife.  "Listen to
me, Angie.  You're going to leave here and not come back.  Throw the
knife in an alley a few blocks from here and then go straight to the
airport.  Buy a ticket to wherever you'd like to go and leave this city.
Do you understand?"  She nodded.  "Then go."
        I watched her walk out the door.  "That was very well done."
        He smiled.  "It is so enlightening to have a relative in law
enforcement.  Now, shall we discuss your little prank?"
        I took a deep breath and raised my chin.  He'd never actually
said he wasn't going to kill me over this.  "What about it?"
        "It was you who found that boy, wasn't it?"
        I don't know why he bothers asking me questions.  It's not like
he couldn't find out anything he wanted to know just using his mind.
Probably already had, too.  I guess he liked to at least keep up the
appearance of carrying on a reasonable conversation.  "You know I did."
        He looked thoughtful.  "And yet you didn't get to be a part of
it.  You missed the pay-off, as it were.  And it was supposed to be your
revenge, too."
        I glanced away.  "Don't remind me."
        He went on, of course, ignoring me.  "I'm sure it was quite a
show you missed, too.  I truly was completely taken in for a moment.  I'm
quite certain Gwen had a difficult time keeping a straight face."  He
smiled.  "Of course, she was a bit distracted at the time as the boy took
it on himself to come upstairs to the apartment."
        I perked up at that information.  "No, really?  He wasn't
supposed to do that."  I giggled.  "Gwen must have had a fit.  Did you
kill him?"
        "I would have," he assured me.  "I still thought that it was my
Nicholas, you know.  I'm not sure what I intended to do: kill him, bring
him back across if possible."  His voice went very cold.  "I would have
made it quite clear that I would not be defied.  But Gwen wouldn't let me
touch him.  She revealed the trickery then and put her own rather
formidable self between him and me.  She seemed quite adamant that the
boy should not be harmed."
        "Yeah," I shrugged.  "She has some sort of thing about that."  I
struck a melodramatic pose.  "'One life that she has touched without
destroying' or something like that."
        "Oh, I think there's more to it than that."
        There was something in his voice that made me frown and turn
toward him.  "What do you mean?"
        He met my eyes very seriously.  "I mean that there is a personal
dimension to this.  You know that Gwen and Nicholas, our Nicholas, were
lovers centuries ago.  I took him from her then when I made him
immortal.  Now she has a mortal Nicholas again.  Perhaps she intends to
bring him across as she would have done with our Nicholas had I not
stolen him.  Perhaps she will keep him as a mortal lover.  I don't know
precisely what she intends to do with him, but she does intend to keep him."
        "No.  That can't be right.  She told me she was sending him back."
        He raised his eyebrows.  "And what did she tell you about the
relationship between her and me before you happened to walk in on us that
day in her apartment?  That we were no more than old acquaintances?  And
she told you that she didn't mind your having a relationship with our
Nicholas, too.  But then she went to Nicholas and told him that you were
a liar, knowing it would drive him away from you."  He chuckled low in
his throat.  "You have been deceived, Kate.  All's fair," he said
deliberately, "in love and war."
        It was true, all of it.  I hadn't seen the pattern before, but it
was true.  "But why would she lie to me about this Nick?  I don't care if
she wants to keep him.  It doesn't matter to me."
        "Oh, but it does matter to you, Kate.  Think about it.  You are
dependent on Gwen as your mentor now.  What becomes of you when she takes
on a protege of her own, one that is really her own and not just
borrowed?  You know the bond of blood that exists between you and me,
Kate, how strong it is even as the situation stands between us now. Kate,
how strong it is even as the situation stands between us now. Think what
it would be between Gwen and her new Nicholas, not only master and
protege but lovers, as well.  Two is company, Kate, and three is a
crowd.  How long before Kate turns her back on you?  As long as her new
Nicholas is alive, that is."  He looked at me a long moment.  "I flew to
Los Angeles in a private jet, but I won't be going back tonight.  You can
take it back if you want to leave now."
        He held out his hand to me, and I took what he offered without
thinking.  It was a folded paper.  Opening it, I read, "Antoine, please
fly Kate Bolen back to Toronto right away.  You may return for me
tomorrow night.  Lucien LaCroix."  I ran my finger over the lines of his
seal impressed in the lump of wax as I looked into his quiet eyes.  And
then I stepped over Mike's corpse and took to the air on my way to the
airport.


Part Twelve
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein Gwen solicits advice


        The night I spent at the Raven trying to relax was less than
relaxing. When Nicholas Sterne wasn't pestering me with questions about
my life, or trying to convince me to bring him across, he was pestering
Janette. Or, if somehow we had managed to distract him from these two
activities, he would disappear for a moment, and we would begin a frantic
search for him, only to find him chatting up some attractive young
vampire with a hungry look in her eye.  It's a wonder that I hadn't
killed him myself by the end of that night. Much less Janette, who was
alternately amused and disgusted by all of it.
        The next afternoon, I forbid all conversation of immortality,
saying that his conversion was officially under consideration in my mind,
and that there were no arguments he could make that he hadn't made in the
last twenty four hours.  Actually, I had, as I had said before, no
intention of bringing him over myself. But if he didn't stop talking
about it, I *would* certainly kill him. I wanted to solicit Janette's
advice, and the previous evening had been so filled with chasing Nicholas
around the Raven that there had been no time to talk. I decided I needed
some quality time with Janette.
        I told Nicholas, "Cheri, I'm going to the Raven tonight, alone. I
hate to leave you here by yourself. I really thought that Kate would have
returned by now, but there seems to be no sign of her."
        "Do you think she's okay?" he wondered.
        "I think so. I imagine she's probably sulking at her house in
Missouri, though she isn't answering the phone there. Or perhaps she's
with Nicholas, de Brabant, that is. I left a message on his machine, but
he hasn't called yet. Perhaps he will later on, in the morning. In the
meantime, I've got to talk to Janette, and I can't do it with you running
around the club endangering yourself at every turn."
        He laughed. "I wasn't in any danger. I was only chatting with a
couple of women. I think you're jealous."  This infuriated me. The child's
naivete was beginning to lose its charm. I was working as hard as I could
to keep him alive, and I was beginning to resent the fact that he seemed
to be working just as hard for the opposite result.
        I glared at him, eyes flaring gold, and he blanched. "You're
going to learn the hard way that I do not exaggerate, and then it will be
too late to save you." I sighed, frustrated, and forced myself to assume
a more normal countenance. "Look," I reasoned, trying not to lose my
temper, "just stay here. Okay? Don't leave the apartment. Don't open the
door for anyone, I mean *anyone* but Kate. Swear it."
        "I swear," he replied.
        "You swear not to leave the apartment, and not to open the door
to anyone but Kate?" I reiterated, trying to pin him down so as to leave
no doubt of the proper course of action.
        "Yes, yes. I swear I will not leave the apartment or open the
door to anyone but Kate."
        "All right." That would have to do. If he managed to get himself
killed anyway, it was not my responsibility. "If LaCroix shows up" I
added, "call me immediately at the Raven. It's number one on the speed
dial. And if he gets too close, say the Lord's prayer or something. He
hates that."
        "Um, Gwen? I don't know the Lord's Prayer," Nicholas confided.
        "Oh." I thought for a moment. "I don't know all of it either. Do
you think you could hum part of the Requiem? Oh, never mind. Just call
me. I don't think he will make an appearance, anyway."
        He smiled sweetly at me. "Okay. Have a good time."
        "Thanks," I said dryly, and escaped to the Raven.  I was
beginning to feel like the den mother for the juvenile delinquent
contingent of the Vampire Scouts.  I could only hope that Janette would
have some ideas on how to haul myself out of the quicksand into which I
had swan-dived.

        When I explained the circumstances that led to my pretty mess at
length to Janette, she was quite amused. Unfortunately, her primary
advice was, simply, "Kill him."  She, of course, did not understand why I
was being so sensitive about this boy. Whether he looked like Nicholas or
not, he was a mortal, he was too inquisitive and he was a general
nuisance. Therefore, he was an hors-d'ouevre. And she made the point that
he could easily become a danger to our little community; admittedly he
hadn't demonstrated much talent for discretion.  And because I had been
responsible for bringing him into the community, it was my duty to
rectify the situation. Or, rather, Kate was the guilty party, but I was
responsible for Kate, and so responsible for cleaning up after her. I had
failed in my duty when I allowed the mess to occur in the first place.  I
was acutely aware of this chain of responsibility when I came to Janette
for advice and it weighed heavily on me.
        When I proposed my best and only idea for keeping the boy alive
(well, in some manner, anyway) Janette flatly refused. I could not blame
her, I suppose. After all, I didn't want to bring him across myself
either, why would Janette?
        But concerning the prank itself, she was delighted with it. She
herself had believed for a moment that Nicholas de Brabant had gone back
across when she first saw Nicholas Sterne. She confided that she had
almost ruined a new dress by spilling an entire glass of wine in shock.
This made me laugh. It was almost worth all the tumult just to hear
Janette admit that she had lost her eternal composure for an instant. Her
only suggestion was that the next time I decided to pull a trick of this
magnitude, I should install hidden video cameras, so that all those who
couldn't be present at the trick's execution could have the pleasure of
viewing it. I must confess that this was an excellent idea, which had not
even occurred to me. But, as I told her, with all the trouble this little
prank had caused, I doubted I'd be repeating its like in the near future.
        The discussion concluded with Janette teasing me unmercifully and
with great enjoyment about my having "finally succumbed" to LaCroix.  She
had been waiting for several months for this, and wanted nothing more
than to see the two of us together, for a variety of reasons, most of
them selfish.  But, I truly do believe that in some twisted way, she
thought that Lucien and I could make each other happy, against all logic
and history. And, of course, she was concerned about the current
ambiguous state of our relationship. War would pull her between the two
of us almost as inexorably as it would Kate. I did my best to reassure
her that I intended to make peace with him as soon as possible, although
the continuation of our ... more intimate relationship was an open
question in my mind still.
        The hour grew late, and I kissed her good-bye and promised to
keep her updated on new developments. I walked home, the wheels in my
mind still spinning futilely in an attempt to manufacture a brilliant
plan to save Nicholas Sterne's life.  But the matter had already been
taken out of my hands, though I did not know it yet.

Part Thirteen
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein Kate fulfills a request


        I had forgotten about Gwen's new security system.  She hadn't
told me the code to get in.  I would have assumed it had just slipped her
mind, but now I wondered.  Maybe she didn't want me to know the security
code if she was planning on setting up housekeeping with Little Nicky.  I
hesitated and then pressed the buzzer.  She had to let me in to get my
stuff, at least.
        There was a click, and then a male voice came over the intercom.
"Where have you been?  You missed all the excitement."
        Something twisted inside me when I heard his voice.  So he was
already so much a member of the household that he was answering the
door.  Missed all the excitement, had I?  That's what he thought.  I was
about to create a little excitement of my own.  I frowned up at the
camera.  "Let me in, Nick.  Or will Gwen allow that?"
        He laughed.  "Oh, sure.  You're the one person she *will* allow
me to let in.  Everyone else is strictly off-limits.  I'm home alone, and
Mommy says I can't talk to strangers."
        I raised my eyebrows.  "Gwen's not there?"  This was working out
better than I had hoped even.  Not very bright of her to go off and leave
her little treasure unguarded.  But then she obviously hadn't expected me
to figure out what she had in mind.
        "No, she went to the Raven.  Just a minute.  Let me figure out
how to work this thing."  There was a pause, and then I heard the lock
click open.  I slipped through the door and started up the stairs.  So I
was the only one Gwen trusted with her mortal.  Talk about setting the
fox to watch the henhouse.
        "So," I remarked as I walked in, "Gwen's really not here, huh?"
        "Nah," Nick answered.  "She went to the Raven to talk to
Janette.  About me, no doubt."
        "Well, of course.  You are the center of the universe, aren't
you?"  At the Raven.  That meant she could be back anytime.  I'd have to
do this quickly and hope Gwen didn't walk in on me in the middle of it.
She was strong enough to drag me away from him, and if she got there
before he was all the way dead, she'd still be able to bring him across
which was just what I didn't want.
        Nick was still talking.  I loved the way he had no idea I was
about to kill him.  I wanted that moment of absolute horror just before I
struck.  "I think they're trying to decide what they're going to do with
me.  Deciding my future for me."  He shot me a furtive glance, as if
trying to decide if I was worthy of the juicy information he was about to
impart. "Did you know Gwen's a vampire?"
        I rolled my eyes.  "No, really?"
        He looked disappointed at my sarcastic reaction.  "Oh. Yeah, I
guess you would know, living with her and all. I suspect that Janette is
one, too."
        "Brilliant.  I am in awe of you," I remarked dryly.  "Harness
that brain power and you could maybe light a flashlight.  Briefly."
        He narrowed his eyes at me. "You know, I don't remember your
being this sarcastic. Anyway, I figure that most of the people she knows
are probably vampires. Bats of a feather flock together ..." His eyes
suddenly widened as he looked up at me. "you don't have a great deal of
color in your cheeks either, Kate. Are you one of them as well?"
        This was my moment.  I let my eyes flash to gold and dropped open
my mouth to reveal my fangs.  This was when he was supposed to cringe in
terror or try to run or faint dead away or something.  But he didn't.
Instead, his face broke into a grin and he laughed in excitement.  "This
is great!  This is wonderful!  This means you can do it.  You can make me
a vampire."
        "What?"
        He babbled on.  "Gwen won't do it.  She keeps saying that she's
considering it, but I can tell she's not.  She is just dead against it."
He suddenly caught what he'd just said.  "Oh, sorry.  I mean she refuses
to do it.  Keeps going on about how she wants me to stay mortal.  I
really think she'd rather kill me than work the change on me."
        I remembered what LaCroix had said to me, that Gwen had her
mortal Nicholas back.  Of course.  She didn't want to bring him across.
She already had a vampire Nick; what she wanted was another mortal lover,
like she'd had back before LaCroix had brought our own Nick across.  She
intended to keep the mortal Nick I'd found as a sort of a pet.
        *She can't have him!* was the first thought that tore through
my mind.  I was the one who had gone to all the trouble of flying around
Saint Louis trying to find him.  Perhaps she had see him first, but she
had given him up.  That made him mine.  Finders keepers.  But she was
trying to take him away from me, just like she'd taken LaCroix and the
other Nick.  She didn't want me to have anyone.  Killing him wasn't going
to be enough, as long as he was still hers when he died.
        But I remembered something else LaCroix had said.  *You know the
bond of blood that exists between you and me, Kate, how strong it is . .
. * His quietly powerful voice filled my mind even as I remembered.
*Think about what it would be between Gwen and her new Nicholas, not only
master and protege but lovers, as well.*  That was it.  The only way to
take him away from her.  I could bring him across myself and bind him to
me with blood.  Then there would be one person who would always be mine
and no one could ever take him away from me.
        "That's what you want?" I asked him.  "You want me to bring you
across?"
        "Yes," he insisted.  "Didn't you want it when it was offered to
you? Who wouldn't want the chance to live forever, to have that kind of
power? Yes, I want it. Do it for me, please, Kate?"
        I fixed him with my eyes.  "All right.  Come to me."  For all his
eagerness, he was still breathless and wide-eyed when he slowly took the
few steps toward me.  I was nervous myself, but there was no point in
letting him know that.  I knew how this was supposed to work, but I had
obviously never done it before.  *It should come naturally,* I told
myself.  *Just follow your instincts.* As he stepped within my reach, I
touched his arm, so warm and inviting.  I applied a little pressure, and
he obediently swung into my embrace.  LaCroix had taken me from the back
like this; I didn't know if it was absolutely necessary, but somehow I
didn't want to look into his face as I did this.  I sunk to the floor, and
his knees willingly buckled as he slid into my lap.  I took a deep breath
and wet my lips before I raised my hand to his neck.  His head obligingly
dropped to one side, exposing an inviting stretch of warm skin.  I stroked
the smooth flesh of his neck, letting my fingertips tangle slightly in the
soft curls behind his ear. I heard his heartrate speed up, could feel the
blood pulse beneath the skin.  Slowly I lowered my mouth to his neck and
laid a few soft kisses along the line of his throat.  The tendons in his
neck tensed, and I murmured, "Don't be afraid"  With my words, I exerted a
bit of mental persuasion, and I felt him relax in my arms.  I gave his
warm skin a last lingering kiss, and then bared my fangs.  I touched the
points gently against the flesh and felt a shiver run through him as he
gasped.  Smiling, I traced my fangs up his neck, careful not to break the
skin, and drew back slightly to whisper into his ear.  "This is it, Nick.
You are mine, forever tied to me with the bond of blood.  This is the
point of no return."  And then I lowered my mouth again to the fragrant
warmth of his skin and sunk my fangs into his flesh.
        When it was done, I settled back with a gasping breath and hugged
his cooling body in my lap.  For a moment, I was overwhelmed with panic
that I had done something wrong and had actually killed him.  I listened
intently, and it seemed like forever before I heard the deep, soft thud
of a single heartbeat and could relax.  Wiggling my way out from under
him, I gathered him into my arms and laid him down gently on the couch.
*Nothing to do now but wait for him to wake up,* I told myself, *and wait
for the fireworks when Gwen gets home.*
        But I couldn't walk away from him.  Instead I bent over him and
reached out tentatively to touch his smooth, pale face.  I hesitated, and
then sat on the edge of the couch, taking his cold hand and clasping it
in my own.  With my other hand, I mussed his blond curls and smiled in
spite of myself.  So this was mine now.  He wasn't even awake yet, and
already I was aware of him, the cold blood pulsing slowly through his
veins, the steady change to immortality.  I couldn't wait for his mind to
wake up so I could explore every aspect of him, every emotion, every
thought.  I had no idea it would be like this, that he would become so
completely a part of me.  It was almost frightening.  And to think that
Gwen could have had
this and wanted to keep him mortal instead.  What a waste, to let him age
and die.  But now he would never die; he would stay with me forever.  I
smiled again.  It was worth whatever Gwen tried to do to me, just to have
him.

Part Fourteen
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, relating how Gwen lost her temper


        When I put my hand on the doorknob to my apartment, I suddenly
realized that I was sensing two vampires inside, Kate and someone else,
someone so weak, they had obviously just been brought across. The
foreboding that had been gnawing at the corners of my mind ever since
Kate's return from Missouri suddenly enveloped me, and I realized that
the second vampire was Nicholas Sterne. But I wasn't sure who had
committed the act. The most likely candidate was LaCroix, but I didn't
sense him within. I steeled myself for battle, and entered.
        In the living room sat Kate, on the couch, next to the prone body
of Nicholas Sterne, former mortal and newly made vampire. It was obvious
from the look of pride and defiance on Kate's face that she was the
perpetrator. And of all the possibilities for those who might have
brought Sterne over, she was certainly the worst. She couldn't even take
care of herself. But, I shouldn't have been surprised. After all,
everything that had occurred since I took Kate as my protege had been
pure disaster. Why should this be any different?
        Now, I must say in my own defense that I had been laboring under
a great deal of strain in the previous few days.  It is understandable my
temper snapped. Or perhaps exploded is a more accurate term.  I slammed
my fist into the nearest wall, leaving a hole in the plaster, and then
turned to Kate and snarled, "Name one reason why I shouldn't kill you
right here. Just one."
        Her eyes widened, and she just stared at me, clearly terrified.
Good, I thought. She should be terrified. Because I was *truly* angry
this time. Reading the diary was nothing compared to this. "Go on," I
hissed, "name one. Because if you don't, eternity is about to become very
short for you."
        "Um," she faltered, "your famous oath of protection?"
        I punched another wall, leaving a hole identical to the first.
"That's one," I admitted, picking up a large vase from a table and
hurling it against yet another wall. The vase shattered, and left a dent.
So far I had damaged three of the four walls of the room, and destroyed a
very expensive vase. Kate, however, was still in one piece, so I thought
I was holding my temper rather well.
        "Damn it, Kate! Damn us all to hell! What satanic force compelled
you to bring that boy across? No, wait. Let me guess. LaCroix had
something to do with it? This has his stink about it somehow. Or did the
boy's eternal whimpering finally get to you? No, that can't be, because
you've never shown an ounce of compassion for anyone but yourself!" I
threw myself into a chair, and glared at her. She looked as if she were
torn between holding her position and running quickly away. "Don't bother
to try to flee, dearest," I remarked darkly. "You're not going anywhere
until you answer my questions. I'm quite strong enough to ensure that.
And you really don't want me laying my hands on you right now. I might
get carried away and forget my precious oath." She didn't move, but she
didn't say anything, either. "Speak!" I commanded her.
        "What do you want me to say?" she asked, in a shaking voice.
        "I want you to answer my question. Why. Did. You. Bring. That.
Boy. Across."  My suspicion was sheer perversity. Or that she was sent to
torture me for my sins. But surely even I didn't deserve this.
        She visibly pulled herself together to answer me, and a spark of
rebellion entered her eyes. "Because I wanted to. LaCroix wanted me to
kill him, but I decided I wanted him for myself, my own faithful
companion. You seem to have enthralled every other man in this town. I
wanted one of my own that you can't take away from me."
        "I see," I intoned. "And what exactly was Lucien's rationale for
convincing you to kill the boy?" The mind boggled.
        "Oh, not much," she replied sarcastically. "He just told me the
truth. About your own plans for our little friend here and how you were
going to toss me out in the cold. Wouldn't want an excess resident around
your little love nest." She looked at me with a smug expression, but fear
and hurt lingered around the edges of her eyes.
        I laughed shortly, and rose, turning my back to her to gaze out
the window onto the darkened street. "You know, Kate, for someone who is
congenitally distrustful, you seem to believe every word LaCroix says. I
don't understand it." I turned again to face her. "No, I take that back.
I do understand it. I understand it too well. He plays on your fears.
Let's see: he tells you that I'm going to throw you out, even though I've
been sorely tempted to do so many times before and never have. And the
reason for this expulsion, I would imagine, was the boy here. Did Lucien
say I was going to bring him across myself? Or just keep him as a mortal
pet?"
        "He didn't know. He just knew that you were going to keep him
somehow and you wouldn't want me around here any more," she admitted with
a guarded tone.
        "Ah," I pronounced. "Well, let's examine those statements.  If I
had wanted to bring him across and have him take your place, I certainly
would have done so before now. And I certainly wouldn't have left him
alone here with explicit instructions to let you into the apartment.  And
why on earth would I keep a mortal pet around with Lucien on the warpath,
and more jealous of me than is truly imaginable? That's simply signing
the boy's death warrant. And I've also made it quite clear that I didn't
want the boy's death on my conscience." Or anyone else's conscience
either. The best laid plans...
        "But you wanted your mortal Nicholas again," she returned, "just
like before with Nick de Brabant. You could replace what LaCroix stole
from you." She seemed unconvinced that I was telling the truth, but
unconvinced of her own story as well.
        "What I wanted from Nicholas de Brabant was an eternal companion,
not a mortal toy. If I was foolish enough to try to recreate that
experience, I would have brought the boy across as soon as the prank was
accomplished. Actually, I probably would have simply brought him across
in St. Louis and saved myself a great deal of trouble. What LaCroix stole
from me was the chance to have the link with Nicholas de Brabant that you
have now with Nicholas Sterne. You feel it already, I know."  Kate looked
down at him, with a tenderness of expression I'd never before seen on her
face. No question that she was feeling the bond. "Why would I replace
with a living bauble the chance for intimacy of that depth? That is not
my style, Kate. You should at least know me well enough to realize that."
        Kate lowered her eyes, but didn't say anything.
        "So that takes care of the arguments for replacing you with
Nicholas Sterne.  Now, what other thorns did Lucien place in your side?
I'm sure he mentioned our becoming lovers in fact as well as thought, and
found some creative reason that you should take revenge on me by killing
my little toy."
        Her head shot up and she stared at me with the startled eyes of
an animal caught in bright lights.  "You've slept with him? When did that
happen?"
        I sighed. So much for keeping our affair from becoming common
knowledge. I assumed that Lucien would have told her. Odd that he didn't.
"Kept that information to himself for some reason, eh? Yes, I slept with
him, the day of the prank."
        "Before or after," she asked suspiciously.
        "Before, although I don't see why it matters." I answered.
        She grinned, despite the seriousness of the conversation. "You
slept with him and then went ahead with the prank? Oh, Gwen, that's
cold."
        Her gaze was admiring. Perfect, Gwen, I thought to myself. What a
positive role model for the fledgling.  Kate on an average day was
disaster enough, but Kate imitating my own impetuosity was a horror I
couldn't even bear to contemplate.
        "Yes, well," I commented, " unfortunately Lucien took the same
view of the situation as you have. He saw it as an intentional insult and
left in a huff. No doubt that was his motivation in persuading you to
kill this boy. Not only would he get back at me for the insult, but he
would rid himself of someone he mistakenly saw as a rival for my
affections, and he thought I would finally throw you out and so remove
another person he saw as an obstacle between us. I shouldn't have slept
with LaCroix, Kate. It was ill-considered. And once I had, I shouldn't
have continued with the prank." I couldn't help but smile, though,
thinking of my little joke and Lucien's reaction to it. "But it would
have been such a shame to waste the perfect set-up for disturbing
LaCroix' perpetual urbanity. Unfortunately, Nicholas Sterne has paid the
price for my revenge."
        Now was not the time to contemplate my guilt, however. Once I got
things straightened out with Kate, if I did, I would have all of eternity
to ponder my own stupidity. I seem to have spent a great deal of my
immortal life engaged in this activity.
        Pulling my thoughts back to the subject at hand, I continued,
"So, what other of Lucien's demons shall we put to rest? Did he bring up
your relationship with Nicholas de Brabant and try to make you jealous of
my history with him?"
        She grew suddenly cold again. Ah, I thought. Struck a nerve
there. "Your history is not an issue," she stated icily. "It's that you
can't seem to let go of that history. It didn't do my relationship with
him much good that you told him I was a liar. And, of course, he believed
you instead of me." She laughed bitterly. "Except it turns out that I
wasn't lying this time after all, even though I didn't know it."
        I returned to my chair, and looked at her for a moment. "Kate,
what didn't do your relationship with him any good is the fact that you
*did* lie to him in the first place. Lies are quickly found out in a
community full of empaths. He believed me not because he cares for me
more, but because I told him the truth.  You are his lover, I acknowledge
that, and I won't get in the way of it.  But I will not allow you to
destroy the friendship that he and I have by telling lies about me.
        "Besides," I added, "if I were really so jealous of him, I would
have simply killed you the moment I saw you two together. It was quite
apparent that you were lovers then. As you yourself have admitted, it
would be quite simple for me to kill you if I chose to. And if your being
Nicholas' lover had bothered me, I certainly wouldn't have taken you on
as my protege." Which would be the first useful thing jealousy ever
accomplished. It's not one of my flaws, unfortunately.
        She didn't respond, but sat silently stroking Nicholas Sterne's
hand.
        "Kate," I reflected, "LaCroix may have believed all these things
himself. He's so jealous of me that it's frightening. He's killed a
mortal before, who was no threat to him, just because the boy was
flirting with me in the Raven. His jealous makes him irrational, and he
believes the strangest things. Or perhaps he was simply lying to you, I
don't know. But whenever Lucien tells you something, particularly if it's
what you most want or what you most fear, you must be on your guard.
Think through the logic of what he says against what you yourself know to
be true. Otherwise, you'll be his pawn for all the years that you live."
        She looked at me for a long moment and then, surprisingly, almost
grudgingly, nodded. "But now what? What about you and me, I mean? Are you
going to kick me out now for bringing Nicholas across?"
        I considered his unconscious body for a moment, and then made a
very difficult decision. My instinct was to protect him, but Kate needed
to learn to accept the consequences of her actions. And I simply couldn't
take on another fledgling. "I won't take responsibility for him, Kate," I
said quietly. "He's your fledgling, and you'll have to take care of him.
In this, you are on your own. I will advise you, but you must raise him
on your own. So, it's not as punishment but out of practicality that
you'll have to find another place to stay, as soon as he awakes. If he
stayed here, he would be my guest and therefore under my protection. I
don't want that responsibility. And you must go with him because he can't
be left alone. Your lessons, however, will continue, and at a brisk pace,
since you will have to teach him everything I teach you.  Of course, you
yourself are still under my protection." Relief flooded her face but she
quickly regained her composure. She might want to act tough, but she knew
she would be at LaCroix's dubious mercy without my help. She had
experienced enough of that to know that almost any alternative was welcome.
        "I warn you, though, Kate," I added. "The first thing you must
impress upon him is the sanctity of the Code. If he breaks it, it will
fall to you to destroy him. If you refuse to do so, then it falls to me
to destroy the both of you. If I do not, then the Enforcers will see to
the deaths of the three of us. Our first responsibility is to the
community, and only secondly to our proteges. Do you understand? If you
fail in this boy's training, and you do not take care of the problem,
then I will kill you. I will have no choice. I am bound by the Code
before I am bound by my oath to you."
        She watched me solemnly, and then looked down at Sterne's hand.
"All right, I understand. I won't let him get in trouble."
        Well, good luck, I thought. If you can keep him from trouble you
are a better person than I. Then again, perhaps Kate would be able to
reason with him, being a hellcat herself. Or perhaps they would  both die
a spectacular and messy death.  Dragging the whole community in Toronto
along with them, no doubt.
        I studied the two of them a moment more, and then hauled myself
to my feet. "I'm going to my room, now. When he awakes, take him to an
expensive hotel. They are most accepting of eccentricities. Be sure to
secure the blinds; he'll be even more sensitive to the light than you
are. And I suppose I'll see you tomorrow night, perhaps at the Raven?" I
started up the stairs, then turned and spoke down to her. "Kate, it's a
heavy burden you've taken on at such a young age. Be careful with him."
And with that, I ascended the rest of the stairs, and came into my
bedroom to spill these words out into my diary.
If there was a goddess who watched over such as we, I hoped she was
paying attention.

Part Fifteen
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein Nicholas Sterne and Kate find new
        lodgings, and go the the Raven again


       I called the hotel while I was waiting for Nick to wake up.
Glancing at my watch, I noticed that there were only a few hours left
before dawn.  Gwen would have told me to sense that for myself, but I
still found it easier to take a look at the nearest clock.  When the desk
clerk answered, I cut her off before she could get out her entire
pre-programmed greeting.  When you're making unusual requests, it's
always best to be rude; polite people are more suspicious.  "Yes, this is
Kathryn Bolen.  I need a room for two."
        "Yes, ma'am.  And when will you be arriving?"
        This was the tricky part.  "Now.  Within a few hours."
        There was a pause, and then she sighed and continued in a testy
tone.  "It's customary to make reservations ahead of time, ma'am.  I'm
not sure we have anything at such short notice."
        Liar, I thought.  I kept my voice brusque and impatient.  "Miss,
my companion and I just arrived on an overnight flight from London.
We're very tired, and the Hilton lost our reservation.  We're at a
friend's home now and simply cannot impose any longer.  Now, you must be
able to find a room for us." I played my trump card.  "I would be
eternally grateful if you could help me out."  She had no idea how
eternally.  "I'd love to be able to express my appreciation, Miss...  I'm
sorry; I don't believe I got your name."  There was a pause.  "Debbie
Springer.  Yes.  Yes, we do have a room.  It can be ready for you within
the hour."  I heaved a mental sigh of relief. I really didn't want tohave
to go upstairs and ask for Gwen's help, not tonight, not with the kind of
mood she was in.
        I spelled my name for the woman and gave her the number off my
Mastercard.  I still think it's more impressive to pay for expensive
things in cash, but Gwen says that waving large wads of bills around only
attracts attention in situations where we want to avoid it.  It was sort
of fun to have a platinum Mastercard anyway.
        "Now," I told her when she had all the information, "I'll need a
limo to come pick us up.  Tinted windows, please."  Better safe than
sorry.  I gave her Gwen's address and then continued.  "Also, as I said,
my companion and I are very tired.  I never can get any rest on overnight
flights.  So we won't want to be disturbed for any reason during the day.
We'll probably sleep quite late.  We have an engagement this evening, so
you can have the room made up after we leave.  And I want very heavy
draperies on the windows.  I must have absolute darkness if I am to
sleep.  I cannot emphasize this enough.  I will be very annoyed if the
curtains let any sunlight into the room."  Very dead, too, but she didn't
have to know that.  It wasn't really a lie; I'm sure it would be very
annoying to spontaneously combust.
        I spent the hour packing.  I didn't think I'd really need as much
stuff as I was taking, but I had said we'd flown from London so we'd need
luggage.  Nick hadn't brought much with him from Missouri so I dumped his
stuff into a suitcase and filled up another with clothes from my own
closet that Gwen had bought for me.  And of course I filled one
good-sized bag with blood from Gwen's fridge.  Nick was going to need
it.  I took a last look around my room before I closed the door.  I
hadn't stayed there very long, but I liked the idea of it being there for
me.  But I had Nick to think about now.  The two of us would be fine on
our own.
        If he ever woke up, anyway.  I didn't have to look at my watch
this time to know how close the sunrise was getting.  The limo would be
here soon, and he hadn't moved.  I had lost more than a day when LaCroix
brought me across.  I could carry him, of course, but that was hardly a
way to avoid suspicion.  I sat down next to him on the couch and smoothed
his curls back from his pale face.  Maybe I could speed the process up a
bit.  Might as well try.  I took his hand in mine and closed my eyes.
"Nick."  My voice was little more than a whisper, but I was shouting in
my mind, trying to get through to him.  "Nick, darling, can you hear me?
Listen.  Try to wake up, Nick.  I need you on your feet.  Can you do that
for me?"
        Nothing happened for a minute, and I had about decided that it
was a lost cause when I felt his fingers tighten around mine.  I opened
my eyes to see him pushing himself up from the couch.  "Kate?"  He wasn't
completely awake yet, but I could sense the sharpness of his hunger.
        "Oh, good boy, Nick," I murmured.  "Just a minute, and I'll get
you something to drink."  I dashed into the kitchen for a wineglass and a
bottle of blood, pouring quickly as I came back into the living room.  I
spilled a little on Gwen's carpet, but I didn't waste too much time
worrying about it.  It didn't show too much on the dark green.  She had
holes in three walls already; it's not like it was exactly Better Homes
and Gardens in there that night.
        The sight of the blood cut through some of Nick's sleepiness.  He
tore the glass from my hand and drained it in one gulp, then stood
smiling in bemusement at the empty glass, his eyes glowing.  "It worked.
You actually did it."
        "Of course I did," I told him.  "I know what I'm doing."
Nothing's blown up in my face so far, anyway.
        He smiled a slow, delighted grin.  "I'm immortal?"
        "Welcome to eternity."  I lifted the bottle, and he held out his
glass for a refill.  "Check your sunglasses at the door."  Just then, the
buzzer sounded, and I glanced up at the monitor.  "Speaking of doors....
The limo's here.  Can you grab a bag, Nick?"
        He just at that moment seemed to notice the luggage by the door.
"What?  Where are we going?"
        I pressed the intercom button.  "Just a moment, please."  The
chauffeur nodded and stifled a yawn.  We must have gotten him up before
his alarm.  "We're going to a hotel, Nick, to stay the day.  Get that bag
there.  We'll take the blood in the limo with us.  Gwen won't miss the
glass."
        "Gwen....  Why are we leaving?  Where's Gwen?"  He looked around
him in confusion.
        I was feeling things from him, things I didn't want to feel.  Not
from him, not for Gwen.  I shut it out as best I could.  There was no
time for this now.  I'd deal with it later.  "Nick, you know she didn't
want you brought across.  She was very angry.  Look at the walls, if you
don't believe me.  She doesn't want us staying here."  I wanted to leave
it at that, but I felt a wave of hurt from him that was overwhelming.  I
don't care, I told myself.  But I did.  I couldn't let him feel that
way.  As little as I wanted to, I had to say something.  "Nick.  She has
a quick temper, but she gets over it just as quickly.  You have all
eternity in front of you, Nick."  And I've got all eternity to make him
forget her, I promised myself.  "But now we've got to go.  The sun will
be up soon, and I can tell you that you don't want to be around to see
that."  He still hesitated.  "Nick, trust me."
        He looked at me another moment, then took a suitcase in his hand,
surprised at how light it seemed to him now, and went out the door.  I
hesitated by the black lacquer box Gwen kept her petty cash in and then
helped myself to a handful of bills.  Just because I had my own money now
didn't mean that I wanted to spend it.  Besides, Gwen wouldn't even
notice it was gone.  I recorked the bottle of blood and shoved it under
my arm, then picked up the other two suitcases and walked out the door.


        Debbie earned her expression of appreciation, and I tipped her
quite generously with Gwen's petty cash.  I made Nick stand in the closet
until the sun was good and up, just in case, but not a chink of light
came through the curtains.  When I finally let him come out, he fell
straight into bed in his clothes and was asleep almost immediately.  I
had forgotten how hard it was for me to stay awake during the daytime
when I was newly made, and I couldn't have helped the situation too much
by waking him up before he was ready.  I changed into a silk nightshirt
Gwen had bought for me when I first moved in with her and slipped into
bed beside him but didn't go to sleep for a long time.  Instead I lay and
looked at his face on the pillow across from mine.
        It was like....  I don't know what to say it was like, bringing
someone across.  I can't describe it.  It's like you've been living your
whole life in one room and you never knew that there was anything besides
that one room.  Then one day you open a door you hadn't noticed before,
and there's a whole other room, and you never until that moment realized
what a prisoner you had been confined to just that one room your whole
life.  And you want to spend all your time walking around the new room
looking at things, just because they're different than the things
you'veknown your whole life up till then.  Oh, that doesn't make sense at
all now that I've written it down, but it's the only way I can think of
to try and describe it.
        So I lay there and explored Nick with my mind while he slept.
Nothing too intrusive: I didn't want to wake him up.  I just watched the
wisps of dreams as they crossed his mind.  Only, if this was like
exploring a new room, it was a room that had pictures of Gwen on every
wall.  Everywhere I turned, I brushed against her.  But I couldn't make
myself leave.  It was like being there and being hurt was better than
being locked back in the old room again.  So I stayed, and I told myself
that I would make him love me instead someday.  After all, I had all the
time in the world.  When I drifted to sleep, I was still at that
threshold where my mind touched his.
        Nick didn't wake up until well after sundown.  I hoped that the
extra hours would help make up for his early awakening the night before.
I had already showered and dressed for an evening at the Raven by the
time he opened his eyes.  He was lying on his side, facing the window.  I
had opened the curtains as soon as it was well dark outside, and for a
second he lay still looking out at the lights of Toronto.  Then with
asudden movement, he turned himself over in bed and looked at me.  "It's
real.  It wasn't a dream."
        I grinned and handed him a glass of blood as he sat up in bed.
"Of course it's real.  Have some breakfast."
        He tossed it back in one gulp, and I turned back toward the bar
to get the bottle for a refill.  "Breakfast," he remarked.  "I guess my
days of coffee and croissants are over."  Suddenly he turned his head
toward me.  "It's you, isn't it?"
        I stood still, clutching the bottle of blood.  "What is?"
        "I've had this feeling like I'm not alone in my head.  There's
someone else there with me, even in my dreams last night.  I mean, during
the day," he corrected himself.  "I thought I was imagining it, but I'm
not.  It's you, isn't it?"
        I set the bottle back on the top of the bar and sat on the edge
of the bed.  "Yes.  It's the bond of blood.  It's because I'm the one who
brought you across.  It will always be this way between us now.  You'll
always be aware of me."
        His thought came so swiftly that it was like a slap in the face.
*He wished it was Gwen.*  I quickly stood up and turned back to the barto
hide my expression.  "You'd better go ahead and get showered and
dressed.  We're supposed to be at the Raven tonight."  I sensed the
question in his mind before he could open his mouth to ask it.  "Yes,
Gwen will be there."  I felt his surprise and glanced over my shoulder at
him.  "It's the bond of blood, Nick.  You don't have to say things out
loud for me to hear them."
        He paused at that and then thought very deliberately, "Me.
Shower.  Now."  I burst out laughing in spite of myself.  "You don't have
to think in Tarzan and Jane, Nick.  You don't even have to use words.
It's your feelings I can sense."
        He had been unbuttoning his rumpled shirt as I talked, and now he
shrugged it off and dropped it on the foot of the bed.  I let my eyes
slide lingeringly over the pale skin of his tightly-muscled chest and was
glad that he didn't have the same access to my sensations that I did to
his.  He stood grinning at my boyishly a moment and then said, "Well,
maybe you can sense what I haven't said out loud yet.  Thanks, Kate.
Thanks for my immortality.  This is going to be great."  He bent down and
kissed me quickly on the cheek before he went into the bathroom and
closed the door.

Part Fifteen, Continuation
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein Nicholas Sterne and Kate find new
        lodgings, and go to the Raven again


         I decided that I wasn't up to giving flying lessons that night so
we went to the Raven in a limo.  Nick had dressed with extra care in
anticipation of seeing Gwen.  It was his first night as an immortal, and
he thought that would make all the difference.  Maybe it would, I thought
miserably and tried to decide what on earth I would do if Gwen did decide
to take him as her lover.  But it would never happen, I reminded myself,
not as long as LaCroix was hanging around her.  Allowing any overtures
from a fledgling would be like signing his death warrant, and Gwen
wouldn't do that to Nick.
        We were both so caught up in our own thoughts that we were almost
to the club before I remembered my promise to Gwen.  "Nick.  There's
something very important I have to tell you.  It's about the Code."  I
paused, trying to think how best to explain in a few sentences.  "The
vampire community has to be very secretive, obviously.  No one can know
what we are.  So you can't do anything that puts the community in danger
of discovery, all right, Nick?"
        "What am I going to do, Kate?" he asked.  "Walk around with a big
button on that says 'Ask me about becoming one of the walking undead?'
Give me a little credit."
        "Just be sure you remember," I stressed.  "This is a big deal,
Nick.  There are some vampires out there called Enforcers whose whole job
is to take care of anyone who endangers the community."
        He grinned at me. "Don't worry about me, Kate.  I won't get in
trouble.  Look, we're here."
        As I stepped out of the limo, I noticed an unmistakable
aqua-colored Cadillac parked at the side of the club with an impatiently
fidgeting figure leaning against the passenger's side that could only be
Schanke.  I grinned.  Perfect timing.  Janette has complained about how
Nick -- the other Nick, of course -- was always dropping by the Raven
looking for information while he was working on a case.  "Nicky-boy," I
asked, "how'd you like to meet your double?"
        We ran into him just inside the door.  He was on his way out as
we were on our way in, but when he saw my Nick, he stopped in his
tracks.  I could feel my own Nick's amazement at the resemblance, and he
had known he had a double and was prepared for the meeting.  I could only
imagine the thoughts that were coursing through Nick Knight's head.
"Well, hi, Nick," I said cheerfully.  "Have you met Nick?"
        My own Nick flashed a big grin and took the other Nick's hand in
his own to give it a hearty shake.  "Pleased to meet you, Nick.  I've
heard so much about you."
        Nick Knight pasted a fair imitation of a cordial smile on his
face and murmured to me, "Kate, what the hell is going on?"
        "Well, gee, Nick," I said, "I'd tell you, but you don't believe
me anymore.  I'm a liar, remember?"  I caught sight of Gwen sitting at
the bar talking to Janette.  "Why don't you ask Glinda the Good Witch
over there?  She's taken her Scout's Oath."
        He seemed about to pursue the issue when a loud voice at the door
caught our attention.  "Metro Homicide.  C'mon, you gotta let me in.  My
partner's in there.  Look, here's my badge.  Hey, Knight!  Hurry it up,
will ya?  We just got a call over the radio."
        I could tell Nick was suddenly seeing the scene through Schanke's
eyes: two Nicks and a Natalie chatting together at the door of the
Raven.  "Damn.  Coming, Schank!  I will talk to you about this later,
Kate."  And with that, he melted away unobtrusively toward the door
before his partner's mortal eyes could squint into the semi-darkness of
the club.
        I watched him go with a delighted smile.  "Beautifully done,
Nicky," I complimented my companion.  But he wasn't paying attention to
me.  From the moment I had pointed out Gwen, his mind had snagged on her
and couldn't get itself free.  I sighed.  "Do you want to go see her now?"
        "No, not yet."  He was afraid, nervous.  He was banking so much
on this first impression as an immortal, and he wasn't ready to make it
yet.  Of course, Gwen already knew we were there from the moment we
walked in, but I didn't tell him that.  She was giving us space, and we
might as well take advantage of it.
        "Fine, let's sit for a while then."  We settled at a small,
out-of-the-way table with a view of most of the club, and I gestured to
the blond waitress walking past.  "Alma.  Drinks for me and my friend."
She acknowledged me with a glance and went on her way.
        "So," Nick said as he leaned back in his chair, "that was the guy
I look like.  I can see why everyone is so jumpy when they first meet me."
        I grinned.  "Fun, isn't it?"
        He smiled back.  "Yeah," he admitted.  "No wonder Janette spilled
her drink the other night."  He frowned slightly.  "Are she and he...?"
        "Lovers?" I supplied.  "Off and on.  I've decided there are very
few in the community that Nick hasn't been to bed with at some time or
another."
        He met my eyes.  "You?"
        I hesitated.  "Yes."
         He gestured toward the bar.  "And Gwen."  It wasn't a question.
He remembered what she had told him so long ago in Saint Louis about the
man he looked like.  He knew that was what attracted her to him in the
first place, and he hoped it still would, that she wouldn't be able to
resist the resemblance.
        "A long time ago," I admitted.
        His eyes flickered sharply back toward mine.  "I never know what
'a long time' means around you people."
        I laughed.  "Eight hundred years."
        His eyebrows shot up.  "I would say that that was a long time,
yes."  Alma showed up then with our drinks, and I enjoyed his pleasure at
his first taste of the mixture.  He nodded at Alma's retreating back.
        "She's a vampire, too," he observed.  He suddenly began to
realize what his new senses were telling him.  "In fact, there are a lot
of vampires in here."
        "Janette does quite good business in the community," I
acknowledged.  "Of course, there are plenty of mortals here, too."
        "I know."  I heard the hunger in his voice and rapped on the
table to draw his attention away from the sound of the warm, beating
mortal hearts.
        "Watch your eyes," I told him.  "They're starting to go gold.
And Janette takes a very dim view of hunting in her club."  He pulled
himself together and finished off his drink in one draught.  "Do you want
a refill?"
        He took a deep breath and turned his eyes to where Gwen was
seated.  "Let's get one at the bar."  He felt that he was ready for
whatever happened when he met her.  As I trailed along behind him, I
only  wished that I was, too.

Part Sixteen
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, relating Gwen's conversations with several
        principle parties


        It had been a pleasant enough evening, though the house had
seemed rather too quiet with neither Kate nor Nicholas Sterne to pester
me. I had been at the Raven for perhaps two hours, chatting with Janette.
Nicholas de Brabant showed himself briefly, but wanted chiefly to talk to
Janette about one of his cases, much to her irritation. But although I
enjoyed the conversation, I was not completely able to relax, because I
knew Kate and Nicholas Sterne were due to arrive soon. If they did not,
it meant that something had gone wrong, and I would have to go try to
rescue the situation. But I wanted to give Kate the chance to do this on
her own, and I didn't want to take any more responsibility for her than
was absolutely necessary. So I waited, and tried to allow Janette, who
knew what was going on, to distract me.
        When they did walk through the door, I was profoundly relieved.
Nicholas seemed happy and well-balanced enough. No signs of profound
depression or rogue tendencies. The first night is the most difficult. If
he could get through this evening, he might be all right.
        I decided to allow them to approach me, so that Kate would have
more control of the situation, and to avoid overwhelming Nicholas before
he was ready. It was difficult to keep my eyes off them. I was very
curious to see what changes the crossing had wrought in him, and I was
anxious to ascertain that he truly was doing as well as he seemed. But I
tried to look non-chalant, and ignored them until they were ready to come
to me.
        After a few minutes, I felt them moving toward me, and turned
away from the bar to greet them.
        "Good evening," I greeted them. "You're looking well, Nicholas.
It seems Kate has been taking good care of you."
        Kate's smile grew positively genuine, and I could see she was
trying hard not to glow. She was proud of this boy, and her ties were
strong to him already. I wondered how she was handling his infatuation
toward me, or if it had faded with the start of his new life. I hoped for
all our sakes that it was something that he had gotten over quickly, or
even transferred to his new mentor.
        But at the moment I was thinking these things, he was staring at
me with a disturbing intensity.
        "So do you think it suits me?" he asked hopefully, turning about
as if he were modeling new clothes.
        "I think mortality suited you quite well," I returned. "And I
fear you would have been much happier if I'd never allowed you to be
pulled into this mess. But I'm pleased to see that you're in good spirits
and have retained at least most of your wits. I'd hate for you to give
Kate any problems. If this is truly what you want, you have her to thank
for it." I hoped that he would abandon his adolescent infatuation and
turn his affections toward Kate, who had, after all, been the one to
acquiesce to his request for immortality.
        He motioned to the bartender for a drink, and I ordered two more,
one for myself and one for Kate, hoping that she was watching his alcohol
intake. Actually, although her tolerance had improved with practice, I
hoped she was watching her own as well. On his first night especially,
his impulse control was likely to be very poor, even while sober. It
would be much better not to test his ability to resist temptation while
drunk.
        Nicholas leaned over and asked, with some irritation, "Does it
bother you so much that you couldn't even let us stay with you? Is it
because I'm immortal now, or because it was Kate that did it?"
        I wondered how many more times it would be necessary to repeat
this conversation. "I explained this to Kate at length, Nicholas, but you
were incapacitated at the time. I am already responsible for Kate. I do
not want to be responsible for another fledgling. You'd be running one
way, Kate would be running the other, and I would only be able to catch
one of you. Meanwhile the other would be wrecking havoc. This way, if you
run one way, Kate has to run after you, and I can then run after her. At
least at that point we're all running the same way." He began to protest
but I held up a restraining hand. "Allow me to finish. You both knew I
was against your coming across. Whatever happens to you now is between
the two of you. I wish you luck, but I won't have anything to do with it.
I'm still Kate's mentor, but Kate is yours. I'm sure she'll do a fine
job." I was sure of no such thing, really, but it seemed I should show
some support for the girl. She seemed to be trying rather hard, and  to
be taking responsibility for him. Motherhood was bringing out the best in
her.
        "So you don't want anything to do with me?" he demanded bitterly.
        "I didn't say that, Nicholas. I hope that we'll be friends, and
I'm very glad to see that you survived the transition. Not all of us do,
you know. But Kate is the one that you should look to for companionship,
not me. That is the natural, or perhaps, preternatural, order of things."
I drained my glass and ordered another.
        "I see," he replied, and then was quiet for a moment. When he
spoke again it was clear that he was terribly disappointed. "I suppose I
was hoping that my coming across would change your mind about me.
Apparently not." With that, he launched himself toward the dance floor,
and began dancing with a young vampire, no more than a few decades old.
At least as long as he was with her, we didn't have to worry about him
hurting anyone. I noticed that he took care to remain well within sight
of us among the throng of tightly-packed bodies. Trying to make me
jealous, I suppose.
        I turned to look at Kate and she looked as if she'd been struck
by a truck. "I'm sorry, Kate," I told her. I knew how it must feel, to be
linked to his every emotion, and to have those emotions be directed
toward another. "I don't know what to do about him. I think he'll get
over his silly infatuation in time.  But, do keep an eye on him tonight,
please cherie?"
        She didn't look at me as I spoke, but just kept her eyes focused
on her young man out on the dance floor. "I wasn't even certain that she
had heard what I had said. "He's still thinking about you, you know.
Every move he makes with her, he's thinking about how it must look to
you." She turned her face back toward me at last, and I could see the
hurt in her eyes. "So did you turn him down to protect my feelings? Am I
supposed to be grateful that I have a chance to be his default lover,
that if he can't have you, maybe I can be second-best?" The bitterness in
her words died away, and her eyes became almost imploring. "I gave him
everything. I gave him exactly what he wanted, and he just used it to try
to get to you. I'm not even a person to him; I'm just Gwen's friend who
came in handy when he needed a pair of fangs. What's wrong with me, Gwen?
Why won't he love me?"
        I put an arm around her protectively. "Oh, petit cherie, there is
nothing wrong with you. And he will love you, Kate. I'm sure he does now.
He just hasn't let go of his mortal life yet. He will, soon, and you'll
be there for him. Just give it some time."
        She gave a short laugh, in spite of herself. "Yeah, time. That's
one thing none of us are short of, isn't it?" Suddenly I felt her muscles
tense, and in the next moment sensed him myself. LaCroix had entered the
bar. We both turned to find him in the crowd. His eyes fixed first on
Nicholas, still dancing, and then narrowed his eyes in anger at Kate.
Apparently he hadn't realized that Kate had not done his bidding. He
probably hadn't even bother to check up on her through their bond,
because it undoubtedly didn't occur to him that she might disobey. He
started toward us, and I rose from my seat at the bar and took a step to
place myself between him and Kate. She didn't say a word, didn't even
look defiant, for once, but watched him with complete calm. How
interesting, I thought. The girl's developing some character at last.
        I caught Lucien by the arm, and held him, hard, my knuckles
whitening from the effort. "Let's go into the back for a bit, shall we?
I'd like to speak with you for a moment." I wasn't about to allow him to
interfere between Kate and her new friend, and I wanted to make that
perfectly clear.
        But instead of pulling away or snarling at me as I expected, he
suddenly leaned over, and planted a passionate kiss on my lips, with the
whole bar watching. Then he smiled sweetly at me, and answered, "But, of
course, mon amour."
        I turned to Kate and said, darkly, "One of us will be back in a
moment. You know where to find me if you need me."
        Then, furious, I pulled Lucien past the bar to a back room. I
threw the door open and stalked inside and he followed.
        "You did that just to annoy me," I accused.
        He laughed snidely. "Now, Gwen, whatever gives you that idea?
Really, you can't expect to be manhandling me in public with impunity.
What a bully you've become!" He laughed again and folded himself into a
chair with a casual air. "Besides, I enjoy kissing you, no matter the
setting."
        I paced the room, still agitated. "Why do I feel as if I've just
been tagged like an antelope? 'Property of LaCroix's Wild Game Preserve'.
After that little performance no one in Toronto would touch me for fear
of your jealous wrath. Damn you, LaCroix! Isn't my life complicated
enough right now without your mucking about in it?"
        He waved a hand at me and affected boredom. "Oh, come now, Gwen.
I am merely taking steps to insure that I get what I want. Surely you
know me well enough to expect that of me. You'd be disappointed by
anything else."
        I stopped my pacing in sheer amazement. Did he honestly believe
that? Did I even care what he believed?
        I turned to face him. "You know, I am not even going to discuss
this. This conversation is completely ridiculous, and we have more
important things to talk about. Our relationship isn't an issue. It's a
non-issue. It's an anti-issue. It's the black hole of issues, sucking
everything else into itself. What we should be discussing is Kate and her
latest catastrophe."
        Even from his languid position draped in the chair, his voice was
as sharp and precise as a scalpel. "You know very well that our
relationship is an issue," he said quietly. "But should you prefer to
converse about something else, I will gallantly bow to your whims." And
with this he gave a little half bow from his chair. I groaned silently. I
tried to remind myself that he was irritating me on purpose, and that I
should just try to stick to the question at hand, which was Kate and the boy.
        I turned my back to him again, thinking that perhaps I'd feel
less like ripping his throat out if I didn't have to look at him. "Look,"
I began, resuming my pacing, "I know that you tried to talk Kate into
killing that boy. I have no idea if you actually believe the ludicrous
things you told her, and I don't suppose it really matters now. But I
want you to leave them alone. Kate's going to have enough trouble trying
to keep that fledgling alive without your interference." I turned to look
at him and found him staring at me in surprise.
        "You're not taking the boy in?" he asked.
        I shook my head. "No. Kate's got to learn to take responsibility
for her actions, and I simply have too many other things to worry about
to accept the additional burden of another fledgling. Kate remains under
my protections. Nicholas Sterne does not. However, I would be very
displeased if something should happen to him, Lucien. Very displeased.
He's no threat to you and neither is Kate. And thanks to this little
debacle, she won't even be staying with me any longer. You've
accomplished at least part of what you intended; leave it be."
        "Hm," he reflected, "that is very interesting. Very well, Gwen. I
re-instate our agreement. I give Kate to you, and I promise to allow her
to keep her little pet in exchange for a renewal of our friendship."
        "Our friendship, yes. As to the other-" I began, but was
interrupted by Janette bursting into the room.
        "Come quickly, both of you," she exclaimed, her usual composure
entirely blown.  "We have a serious problem."
        And so began one of the worst nights I've experienced in at least
two hundred years.

Part Seventeen
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein a grisly discovery is made


       Janette suddenly appeared almost at my elbow in that distracting
way she has as Gwen and LaCroix headed for the back room.  "I do not like
this," she murmured.  "There is going to be trouble.  I can feel it." She
raised her voice a tone.  "Miklos!"  He came immediately and stood at her
shoulder.  "Tell the others that the club will be closing early tonight.
I want all the mortals out of here as soon as possible.  Do not move too
fast.  Do not startle them.  Just get them out."  He nodded and melted
away to find the rest of the staff.  At last Janette took her eyes away
from the door Gwen and LaCroix had disappeared behind and glanced toward
me.  "May I offer you a refill, cherie?"
        I looked down and noticed that the glass I held in my hand was
empty.  I wondered when I had drunk it.  "Yeah, why not?"  I shoved the
wineglass down the bar toward her and picked up the glass Nick had left
behind.  It was still half-full, and after a moment I set my lips where
his had been and drained it, closing my eyes.  The blood and wine was
sweet, but thinking about him only brought his own thoughts closer to me.
I knew that he had seen the kiss LaCroix had given Gwen and felt his
anger, his jealousy, and his despair.  I shoved the thoughts away and did
my best to close the door between him and me.  Not now.  I just couldn't
deal with any more right now.  Just let the alcohol cloud my mind, just
for tonight. I had all eternity to worry about Nick.
        When I opened my eyes, Janette was watching me from across the
bar.  "Having a difficult time, little one?"
        I picked up my refilled glass and swallowed about half of its
contents before I answered.  "I've had better."
        "Well, I cannot say I know how you feel," she said lightly.  "I
have never had one of my own."
        "As old as you are?" I asked without thinking and was rewarded
with a glance half of annoyance and half of amusement before she answered.
        "I have never felt the need.  If there was ever anyone I wanted,
LaCroix supplied a companion for me.  Look at Nicholas."
        Yeah, look at him, I thought.  From what I had found out about
their past relationship, I had the feeling that Nick's making had a lot
more to do with Gwen than with Janette.  But if LaCroix had told her
that he did it for her, it was his business.  I wasn't about to tell
her otherwise.  She and I had only just recently started to get along.
        Janette's attention was suddenly attracted by Miklos from across
the room.  The staff had all been alerted and were stationed at regular
intervals around the club to funnel the mortals out the door with as
little general unrest as possible as soon as the music stopped.  "If you
will excuse me, ma petite, I must go and take care of my club."  She
paused and looked at me a moment, then took a bottle from behind the bar
and set it next to my glass.  "Take care of your own refills.  Drown your
sorrows for tonight, hien?"
        "Thanks.  Janette?"  I caught her just as she was moving away,
and she turned back toward me inquisitively.  I nodded toward the back
room.  "Do you really think there's going to be trouble?"
        "Who knows?" she shrugged.  "I suppose it is a good sign that we
haven't heard anything breaking yet.  All may yet be well.  But I have
not survived so many centuries by wishful thinking."
        I finished up what was in my glass and carefully poured myself a
refill.  On an impulse, I held my fingers in the dark stream of wine and
blood spilling out of the bottle and put them to my mouth.  It was good,
very good.  I still wasn't very much of an expert on wine, but even I
could tell that Janette had given me an excellent vintage.  If only it
could drown my sorrows, as she said.
        The pounding music suddenly shut off, leaving the Raven in an
eerily uncharacteristic silence.  The mortals started to protest, but
Miklos and the rest of Janette's employees were quick with their own
special kind of persuasion, assuring the club's patrons that there was
nothing wrong and that they really should just go on home and get some
rest and they'd feel much better in the morning.  Idly, my eyes flicked
across the crowd looking for Nick, but I didn't see him.  Well, I refused
to try to find him empathically.  I knew what kind of feelings that would
allow into my mind, and I, I told myself emphatically as I tossed back my
drink, was taking tonight off from being hurt.
        Despite the best efforts of Janette's staff, it took quite a
while for the club to begin to clear noticeably.  The Raven had been
operation at capacity, since it was a Saturday night, and vampire
persuasion is a fairly one-on-one type tactic.  Finally, though, after
about a half hour, there were only a handful of people left.  Miklos was
arguing with two young mortal women over near the door, but he hadn't yet
succeeded in getting them out it.  At last, he raised his voice and
called to Janette.  I wandered over behind her, curious as to what was
going on.
        "They say that they came here with a friend and now they can't
find her," he explained.
        Janette raised an eyebrow.  "She probably left without you," she
told them.  "Are you quite sure you did not simply miss each other in the
crowd?"
        One of the girls crossed her arms and gazed back at Janette
defiantly.  "We've got the car keys."  Her tongue was pierced, and I
could see the metal flash as she spoke.
        Janette looked annoyed.  "Then she probably left with someone
else."  The braver girl just stood and looked back at her.  "Oh, very
well, we will go look for her.  Perhaps she is passed out in the ladies'
room.  Je ne sais pas.  But if we do not find her there, I will have to
ask you to leave.  I am sure she will get in touch with you tomorrow."
        She led the way to the rear of the club and pushed aside the
curtain that hid the rather pedestrian corridor, uniformly buried in all
clubs, that houses the restrooms, a few pay phones, and the back door.
Except this corridor had a few extra features.  The two mortal girls
screamed as they pushed their way past where Janette was standing,
momentarily paralyzed with surprise.  Three bodies were piled in a heap
in the far corner, young women.  I assume that one of them was the
missing friend.  The nearest corpse's head had fallen to the side at a
funny angle, and the fang marks were clearly visible, a streak of cooling
blood still oozing down the skin of her neck.
        The moment seemed very long, but it was really only a matter of
seconds before Janette took control.  "Miklos," she snapped, instantly
businesslike, "take care of these two."  His strong hands fell on their
shoulders and firmly guided them out into the main room of the Raven and
sat them down at a secluded booth.  Janette singled out another member of
her staff as she strode across the club.  "Tasha, help him.  Keep them
quiet until we can decide what to do."  She paused for just a moment in
front of the door to the room where Gwen and LaCroix were and then
resolutely pushed it open.  The door had scarcely swung shut behind her
before it opened again and all three of them streamed out.  She took them
straight back to the corridor to see what had happened.
        "Three of them."  LaCroix cursed under his breath.  "In the
Raven, with no attempt to disguise the wounds.  And with witnesses, no
less.  The Enforcers will hear about this, and unless we take care of the
matter quickly, the entire community will be in danger."  He strode to
the booth where the two mortal women were sitting with Miklos and Tasha
and leaned over them.  "Listen to me carefully.  With whom did you last
see your friend?  Describe the person to me."
        The girl with the pierced tongue blinked up at him sleepily.  "A
young man.  Blond hair, blue eyes.  Good-looking.  He asked her to dance."
        LaCroix' eyes met Gwen's for a long moment, and he slowly
straightened up.  "Janette," he said, almost absently, "remind these
young ladies that they saw their friend leave the Raven with a suspicious
man earlier.  Miklos, dispose of the bodies.  There will be no homicide
investigation on this one, only missing person reports."  His eyes had
not left Gwen's as he picked up a chair with one hand and snapped off one
of its legs like it was a toothpick.  "You know this has to be taken care
of, Gwen," he intoned.
        That was the last I heard before I quietly slipped out the door.
I had known from the first moment I saw the bodies that Nick had killed
them.  Instantly, I tore down all the barriers I had put up between my
mind and his and felt my way along the thread of his sensations.  He was
frightened, and he was alone, and now I knew where he was.
        The alley was only a block away, but I didn't take the extra time
to walk.  As I touched down, I called out to him both with the voice and
with my mind.  "Nick!  Nick, it's Kate.  Come out."
        There was a moment of stillness, and then he stepped out of the
shadow behind a dumpster.   There was a smear of blood on his mouth. "I
guess I did it this time, huh?" he asked shakily.
        I ran up to him adn threw my arms around him. "Oh, Nick, you
primised me you wouldn't get into any trouble tonight."
         "Oh God, Kate," he cried.  "I didn't want to.  I didn't intend
to."  I didn't have to hear the emotion in his voice; it was tearing
through my mind. "I couldn't stop myself.  I just wanted to make Gwen
jealous.  I was dancing with the prettiest women I could find.  And I
couldn't stop myself.  I wanted them so badly, wanted their blood.  I
couldn't stop myself."
        "Shh," I hushed him, rocking him in my arms.  "It'll be all
right." I couldn't be upset with him.  I could feel all his confusion and
his desperation, and for the first time, I knew that he was depending on
me.  I finally pushed softly away from him and smoothed his hair back
from his face.  "Nick, I won't lie to you.  You're in a lot of trouble.
We've got to get away from here now."
        "Oh, but the party's just starting."  I swung around at the
silky-smooth voice behind me.  LaCroix was there with Gwen, and he was
holding the chair leg he had broken in his hand.  "You wouldn't run away
and leave us to clean up the mess you made, would you?"
        Gwen turned to him and spoke quietly, but with some venom.
"LaCroix, don't make it any harder than it already is. Have a little
compassion for once," she said, her expression unusually sad. "Fake it if
you have to."
        My eyes flashed gold as I shoved Nick protectively behind me.
"How did you find me, LaCroix?"
        He smiled.  "The same way you found our troublesome friend here.
You knew where he was, and I knew where you were.  And now I would advise
you to step out of the way, Kate.  There is business to attend
to."
        "No," I said softly.
        "Kate, it's no good," he said.  "You know what has to be done."
        "No," I repeated.  "He's mine, and I won't let you hurt him."  I
felt strangely calm about the whole thing.
        LaCroix' own eyes began to glow, and his pale knuckles became
even whiter as his fingers tightened around the stake.  He took a step
toward us.  "Kate, I warn you...."  But Gwen's hand suddenly closed over
his on the stake and held it tightly.  He turned to look at her, and, as
she steadily held his gaze, he slowly loosened this grip, allowing her to
take it from his hand.
        The wave of relief I felt was matched by the one that washed
through Nick's body.  Gwen wouldn't let anything happen to him.  Holding
the chair leg loosely at her side, she turned to me and spoke quietly.
        "Kate, go back to the Raven.  Leave Nicholas and me alone for a while."
        I took a few hesitant steps away from Nick, and then,
surprisingly, LaCroix opened his arm welcomingly to me.  Almost without
thinking, I ran to him.  His arm folded closely around my shoulders and
pressed me to his cool side, and he led me back down the alley toward the
Raven.

Part Eighteen
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, relating a difficult task's accomplishment


        It's odd how a perfectly ordinary object can become a deadly
weapon. A can of hairspray and a lighter make a flamethrower, a baseball
bat can be either an implement for amusement or for inflicting great
harm. And  a broken chair leg can become a stake with which you kill a
friend.
        I knew that it wasn't his fault. His hunger had simply taken
control of him, as it does us all on our first night. And Kate, because
of her hurt at his rejection, didn't realize what danger he was in. And
what danger he was putting her in as well.  It wasn't really her fault,
either. She had taken on too much, but she had done it in good faith. But
the community couldn't be endangered; there were many more lives at stake
than just our three. And I didn't want to lose Kate as well as Nicholas
Sterne. I knew it was too much for her to bear, to have to do it herself,
and so I took the burden onto my own shoulders. Though I doubted at the
time that she would ever forgive me for it, at least she would be alive
to despise me.
        As I looked at Nicholas in those last few seconds, I thought
about the evening we'd spent together in St. Louis, how charming I'd
found him, how like my own Nicholas. I'd wanted him so strongly, and yet,
I resisted, wanting to do something generous for once. Something good.
Something that would matter. I had tried so hard to save this boy's life,
four years ago and again in the past few days. But I had failed, and now
it was my responsibility to end it. I could imagine Lucien's comment on
the matter, "You wouldn't kill him in St. Louis, and yet he dies anyway,
in a much more traumatic way, and by your own hand still. What is the
point in sparing them? Why not take what you want?"  But I couldn't
believe that. I wouldn't believe it. Not yet. My despair was not yet so
great. It somehow mattered that I had tried. Even though I ended his life
now,  it somehow mattered that I had tried.
        All these thoughts flashed through my mind in the few seconds
between the moments when Lucien handed me the stake without a word, and
put his arm around Kate's shoulders to take her inside. The kindness was
meant more toward me than toward Kate, I knew. Lucien realized that I was
sparing Kate and wouldn't want her to be forced to see me destroy
Nicholas.  She would feel it keenly enough without needing to watch it as
well.
        As soon as the door closed behind them, I turned to Nicholas Sterne.
        "I'm sorry," I whispered.
        "No, wait," he cried, but the deed was done before he could even
speak my name. I moved so quickly I doubt he even saw me, and plunged the
stake into his heart. The boy's blood spattered me, soaking one side of
my dress. That seemed fitting somehow, that I should be marked with his
gore as his killer. As obscene as this execution was, it would have been
even more obscene for me to have come through it without dirtying my
hands. Tears gathered in my eyes, and I indulged myself in their release
for a moment. I knelt down, and picked his body up off the pavement and
cradled it in my lap. I just sat there for a moment, silently asking his
forgiveness. Then, I wiped away the tears, and pulled myself together. I
stood, with the boy in my arms, and carried him inside, to a back room. I
would leave him there while I talked to Kate, and then sit vigil with his
body on the roof of my condominium until dawn, when the sun would burn
his remains and the wind scatter his ashes.  A sad end to a boy who had
been full of enthusiasm, life and love. A sad end, which I would carry on
my conscience, like so many others, but this one's weight was heavier
than most.

Part Nineteen
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein LaCroix makes explanations


        I felt it just as LaCroix let the side door of the Raven swing
shut behind us.  A split second of blinding terror and then the pain that
radiated hotly through every vein in my body.  I heard my own voice
screaming his name, and LaCroix' fatherly embrace became a vise-like grip
as he taxed even his immense strength to hold me back from throwing
myself back out the door into the alley.  He kicked open the nearest door
and swung me, struggling, into one of Janette's spare rooms.  Even after
the door clicked shut, he still held me tightly until I stopped fighting
him as the burning pain settled into a sick, throbbing ache.  Cautiously,
he loosened his grip until, instead of imprisoning me, he was supporting
me as I sagged breathlessly in his arms and began sobbing.
        "Why?"  I asked as he finally released me and I collapsed onto a
dusty couch.  "Why did she kill him?"
        "Because it had to be done," he said simply.  "We are
invulnerable to so many things, Kate, but a single mistake by one of us
in a moment of weakness can destroy us all.  Guns, knives, bombs, all the
machinery of death mortal minds can dream into existence: they are
nothing to us.  But carelessness will kill us every time."
        My face was wet with blood tears.  "But he was mine."
        LaCroix stood still in the middle of the room and considered me
thoughtfully for a moment.  "He hurt you so greatly, and yet you mourn
his loss."
        I shook my head.  "He didn't hurt me."
        "Kate," he said reprovingly as he sat on the couch next to me,
"you forget that I have access to your mind just as you had to his.  Your
image of the adjoining rooms was really quite an apt one.  I know how it
hurt you to find that his mind was little more than a shrine to Gwen,
that there was no room left for you."  I looked at the floor, and he
raised his hand to stroke my hair.  His voice, when he spoke again, was
distant.  "Imagine what it is like to be rejected and pushed out of your
child's mind, to have the door shut in your face."
        "But it's not all hurt," I protested softly.  "It was all worth
it -- all of it was worth it -- just for the joy of having him."
        "Yes," LaCroix whispered.  "It is, isn't it?"  He glanced sharply
toward the door and stood up.  "Gwen is on her way back to the Raven.
She'll want to speak with you."
        I stood up too and walked quickly across the room to stare at the
far wall, suddenly filled with rage.  "I don't want to speak to her.  I
don't want to ever see her again.  She killed him."  I couldn't make
myself say his name.  It was like even thinking it would tear me in two.
        "Kate."  LaCroix stepped up behind me, but I didn't turn around.
"Remember that she did it to spare you.  You know that rightfully it
should have been you that killed him.  If the Enforcers had taken control
of the matter, your life as well as his would have been forfeit."
        "I wish it were," I choked out through my tears.  "Why didn't you
just kill me, too?"
        His voice grew richer, more sensual.  "Now that is not the Kate
Bolen I know.  My Kate is a survivor.  The weak may fall by the wayside,
but my Kate was made for an eternity."  He turned his head again toward
the door.  "Gwen is coming."  Suddenly, swiftly, he embraced me from
behind and set his mouth to my ear so his breath, as he whispered,
stirred my hair.  "The pain you felt, Kate.  That is what I would feel if
my Nicholas or my Janette was taken from me.  Or you."
        As quickly as he had touched me, he was standing back at the
door.  The latch clicked, and I felt his presence pass out of the room
as Gwen walked in.

Part Twenty
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, wherein Gwen offers sympathy


        As soon as I crossed the threshold of the room where Kate was
waiting, she flung herself at me, spitting curses and flailing her fists
ineffectually. I didn't move. I just stood there and waited for her to
get it out of her system. I wished that I had someone to take out my
grief and frustration on.  Sixteen hundred years of life does teach one
that life isn't fair, but though I've learned the lesson, I've never
learned to accept it. It didn't look as if Kate would either.
        Soon her raging turned to sobs, and I held her as she cried,
maneuvering her onto a couch in the room, with my arms still around her.
And as she cried, I found myself crying too. There was too much pain in
my heart to contain it, in the face of her grief. Her grief that I had
caused, in so many different ways. And yet, she had caused my grief too,
in many ways as well. We were both victims of the vagaries of
circumstance, and neither of us for the first time.
        As I cried with her, she suddenly looked up at me, and touched
the pink-tinged tears running down my face. She regarded me with
bewilderment.
        "You're crying," she exclaimed through her own tears.
        "I'm sorry," I answered, trying to wipe the tears away. "I should
pull myself together. I'm supposed to be your pillar of strength right
now. But I know how much you're hurting, Kate. I really do. I've lost
every lover, every fledgling from my past. Nicholas de Brabant is the
only one left. I'm so sad that you're going through this so early in your
life. And I'm hurting for myself, too." She had stopped crying, though
the tears still glistened on her face, and she raised an eyebrow at me.
It shocked me. Was she surprised that I hadn't wanted to kill that boy?
"Kate, I wanted so much to save Nicholas Sterne. I've been struggling for
days to do so. Do you really believe that destroying him was easy? He
trusted me. And I had to betray him. To save you, and to save the rest of
us. I knew I couldn't protect him against the Enforcers. And I wouldn't
lose you too, on top of your fledgling."
        I looked at her, full of compassion. Snatches of memories flooded
me, from all the times I'd lost someone, from all the times I'd had to
make an impossible decision about whom to save. I wanted to tell her a
bit of it, try to make her understand. "Kate, once I had to destroy my
own fledgling, in  a similar situation. It felt like I was killing
myself. You can't imagine the pain; the feelings broke through my mental
barriers and just crushed me. I was catatonic for a week, and Marcus
seriously thought that I might have lost my mind entirely.  But tonight
was almost that hard. I knew what I would be inflicting on you. And I
didn't believe you would ever forgive me.  But I wanted you to survive,
and I knew you would."
        I smiled at her and brushed her damp cheeks. "Cherie, you will
love again. The first fledgling is always special, but you will find
another someday, someone who can love you as much as you love them."
        She didn't say a word, but her expression spoke her doubt, and
the emptiness of my words.
        "When Marcus went to the true death," I told her, "I honestly
believed my life was over. Marcus had been like a part of myself, since
the time he brought me over. I felt as if I'd lost my soul, and was
reduced to a hollow shell. I wandered the countryside for a hundred
years, never settling, killing brutally, often just for sport. I would
slash my victims' throats, and let the blood pour out onto the ground,
without even tasting a drop. I told myself I did this in homage to
Marcus, but it was in homage to my own rage at being left alone. Marcus
would probably been appalled at the waste and the melodramatics.  I was
on the verge of madness, I see now. But I came through even that. I
eventually recovered, and I loved again, had companions again, made
fledglings again. And eventually, all these came to their own ends as
well. It is part of the wheel of life, cherie. Life carries pain as well
as joy. A long life has great amounts of both. This is the true price of
our immortality, my love, not the blood.  I suppose eventually one can't
take anymore, and one takes the true death instead. I've felt very close
to that, oh so many times. But, against all logic, I exist still."
        I took her hand in mine. "Tonight you've begun to learn the
hardest lesson of being immortal: letting go of the dead.  I will take
his body to the roof of the condominium, and sit vigil with him until
dawn, and resign his ashes to the winds. You are welcome to join me in
this task, if you have a desire to do so. If not, I will take care of it.
You don't have to come. It's up to you."
        She raised her eyes to mine, and they were luminous from her
tears. But I saw gratitude on her face, which I almost couldn't believe.
"Thank you," she whispered tersely.  "I couldn't have done it.  They
would have killed me, too."  She took a deep breath and tried to compose
herself.  "I can't go with you.  I can't look at him again, not this
way.  Not... dead."  I could tell that it was difficult for her to say
the word.
        I nodded. "I understand, cherie. Don't worry, I will take care of
everything. If you would like to stay with me this evening, you are very
welcome in my home. At any time, for as long as you want to stay."
        She smiled weakly. "Thanks. I think I need some time to sort out
what I want to do."
        "Of course. Don't hesitate to come whenever you want. If you
change your mind tonight, please come. You needn't even call." I embraced
her for a moment, kissing her hair. "I must go now. There are things to
do yet. Where are you staying?"
        She told me the name of the hotel. "I'll check in on you
tomorrow, all right?" I asked.
        She nodded.
        "I'm sorry that you are learning such sorrow so soon, my dear.
You have seen very little of the joy that can come with immortality," I
stated quietly. "But it is there. And it can be as intense as the pain."
        Her smile was a little stronger and more genuine. "But I did see
it. Just for a few days, but I did see it."
        I felt like breaking into sobs myself when she said that. I gave
her hand a squeeze, and quickly left the room.
        On my way out of the Raven, I made a phone call, to Nicholas de Brabant.
        He answered the phone on the first ring, and I wondered if he
realized what had happened. "Yeah, Knight."
        "Nicholas, it's Gwen."
        "Hi, Gwen. What's up?" he asked, his concern apparent in his voice.
        "There was an incident at the Raven tonight, a tragic one," I
replied. "Without going into too much detail over the phone, I'll just
say that the boy you saw with Kate tonight was hers. He's dead, and
Kate's not in such good shape. I was wondering if I could impose upon you
to go and check on her before you go to sleep."
        "Of course, Gwen," he responded immediately. He would be as
concerned about Kate as I was, I knew, regardless of where their
relationship stood at the moment. "Where is she now?"
        "Here, at the Raven. I've got to go deal with the arrangements
for Nicholas' body, but I think she may be here for a while longer. If
not, I know where she's staying." I gave him the name of the hotel.
        "I'll take care of her, Gwen. Don't worry. But what about you?
Are you doing okay?"
        I sighed. "As well as can be expected under the circumstances.
I've had to do worse than what I did tonight, but only once or twice. It
was hard, Nicholas. But I'm very old, and tough, and I'll cry myself to
sleep this morning and eventually get over it."
        "Oh, Gwen, I'm sorry." He knew what I was telling him, that I had
been the executioner myself.
        "Thank you. I'll be fine, Nicholas. Just look after Kate for me
tonight, and I'll feel much better."
        "I will. Take care, okay? I'll talk to you soon." And we disconnected.
        I was glad that I'd been able to reach him. I wouldn't worry
about Kate as long as Nicholas was with her. Now, there was only one task
left, to complete my duty to Nicholas Sterne.

Part Twenty One
Excerpts from Kate's diary, wherein Nick offers sympathy


        After Gwen left, Janette came back to the room I was sitting in
with a bottle and a wineglass.  She paused in the doorway, then came in
and wordlessly left them on the table by the couch, closing the door
behind her as she left.  Gwen must have sent her.  Or LaCroix.  I stared
at the bottle for a moment before I uncorked it, tipped it up and spilled
the dark liquid into the glass.  It was sweet and cold against my
tongue.  As I drank it, I remembered the first time that my Nick had
tasted it, his pleasure, the sensation of the sweetness in his mouth.
Had it really only been a few hours ago?  He was so happy, so full of
anticipation.  He was going to live forever.
        There was a knock at the door, quiet, tentative.  I glanced up as
the knob turned and the door opened.  And then my fingers tightened on
the stem of the wineglass so hard that it snapped in two and I spilled
the last few drops left in the glass on the couch.
        "I'm sorry," Nick apologized.  "I would have worn another face if
I could."  He came on into the room and shut the door.  "Gwen called me.
She told me what happened."
        "Yeah, well."  I looked at the wall as I felt the blood-tears
welling up in my eyes again.  I'd cried enough that night.  "So what are
you doing here?"
        "Well, like I said, Gwen called.  She wanted me to check on you
tonight.  She's worried about you."
        "Well, you've checked on me," I told him sharply.  "Now you can
go report to Gwen and tell her what a good little vampire you've been.
Maybe she'll give you a hero cookie."  I turned back toward the wall and
waited for him to leave.
        "Kate."  He walked across the room and sat down carefully next to
me on the couch.  "I'm not just doing this as a favor to Gwen.  I'm
worried about you, too.  You know that."
        "Do I?" I asked bitterly.
        "Yes," he interrupted.  "You do.  Kate, you're family, and I will
always care about what happens to you.  And because he was yours, the
other Nick was part of my family, too."
        I pushed myself away from the couch, from him, before the tears
spilled out over my cheeks.  "Don't you even talk about him.  What do you
care about him?  You didn't even know him."
        He sighed.  "No, I didn't.  Kate, if you want me to go away, I
will.  I just want you to know that I do care."  He waited a minute, and,
when I didn't answer, turned to go.
        "Nick."  I stopped him in the doorway.  "Did you fly or drive
here tonight?"
        "I'm in the Caddy," he answered.
        I picked up Janette's bottle and walked ahead of him out of the
room.  "Give me a ride back to my hotel."
        Debbie was behind the desk again when we walked in.  "Good
morning, Ms. Bolen," she called out cheerfully when she saw me.  Gwen's
petty cash does wonders for the attitude.
        "Morning, Debbie," I called back, pressing the elevator button.
"By the way, I won't need the room any more after tonight.  This will be
my last day here."
        "I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Bolen.  I hope you'll stay with us
again the next time you're in Toronto."  I twisted my face into something
resembling a smile and nodded as the elevator door closed between us.  I
could feel Nick watching me as we rode up to the seventh floor, but I
didn't say anything to him or even look at him.  Neither one of us had
said anything since we left the Raven.  I didn't see any reason to start now.
        I fumbled in my handbag for the keycard as the elevator doors
slid open again.  I slipped it into the slot in the door to my room, the
wrong way first, and then the right way.  The lock clicked, and I pushed
the door open with my fingertips.  But I couldn't go in.  The room looked
just the way it had when I had arrived the night before with Nick, my
Nick.  Walking into that room, I had thought that it was a beginning,
when it turned out that all it was was an end.  It was only after Nick's
arms caught me that I realized my knees had buckled under me.  He
supported me the rest of the way into the room, kicking the door closed
behind us, and set me down carefully in a chair by the window.  The maids
had left the curtains open when they had made up the room, and I found
myself staring out at the lights of the Toronto skyline.
        "It'll be dawn before too long.  You'd better get going if you're
going to make it back to the loft safely."
        "I'm not going back to the loft," he answered me.
        I smiled at the window.  "Afraid I'm going to sit up to watch the
sunrise and go with him?"
        He stepped past me and pulled the curtains closed emphatically.
"The thought had occurred to me.  Don't tell me it hadn't to you."
        "Oh, gee, why?"  I stood up and walked back toward the bar.  I
suddenly realized that I didn't have Janette's wine with me.  I must have
left it in the car.  "Just because my fledgling was killed?  Just because
Gwen is sitting up on her rooftop right now waiting for the sun to burn
him to ashes and scatter him to the winds?  Just because I have nothing
left to live for?"  I laughed hollowly.  "Of course, the thought occurred
to me.  It's done nothing but occur to me."  I turned to look at him
seriously.  "But I won't do it.  Don't worry about me.  I'm LaCroix'
child.  I signed on for eternity, and I'm in for the long haul.  The
world can't get rid of me that easily."
        "I'm glad."  Nick leaned against the back of a chair and looked
at me.  "I'd miss you."
        "Yeah, well," I said.  His suitcase was sitting open at the foot
of the bed, and I began idly to sort through it.  "I figure it's like
going to an all-you-can-eat brunch and only taking a muffin.  You're not
getting your money's worth."  There was the crumpled shirt from last
night.  I picked it up and held it to me, smelling the scent of his
skin.  He wore this shirt as a mortal.  This was the shirt he was wearing
when I brought him across.  And it was the shirt he was wearing when he
first woke up into what was supposed to have been immortality.  And now
this piece of fabric was still here, while my beautiful Nicholas was
gone.  "I wish I had something to remember him by," I barely whispered.
"Anything. Something to hold on to."
        Nick came up behind me and touched my hair softly.  "You've got
your memories, Kate.  It doesn't sound like much, but in the long run,
it's all we really ever hold on to."
        I sighed and set the shirt down again.  "I'm tired, Nick, so
tired.  I just want to go to sleep."
        "Go on," he told me.  He crossed back to the chair by the
window.  "I'll be here when you wake up."
        That day, I dreamed that I was in that room again, the new one,
Nick's room that had been opened to me the night before.  Except now, you
couldn't see the pictures on the walls.  Everything was covered over with
white sheets, like the ones they covered the furniture with in my
grandmother's house when she was sent to the nursing home and the house
was sold.  There were windows in the room that hadn't been there before,
and instead of being shuttered, they were all open.  Cold sunlight was
falling through the glass, the kind that shines on a icy day in the
middle of winter.  I was standing in the middle of the room, and the
light fell on me without burning.  There was a key in my hand.  I stood
there, looking around me, fixing every detail in my memory, and then I
walked out of the room into the darkness, locking the door behind me. But
the key was on a chain, and I put it around my neck before I walked away.


Part Twenty Two
Excerpts from Gwen's diary, relating the end of a tragic evening


        I flew home with the dead Nicholas in my arms, a one woman
funeral procession. I laid him gently on the roof, with his arms crossed
over his chest, and his eyes carefully closed, and then went downstairs
to remove my bloody dress. It was one of my favorite black dresses,  but
if I ever saw it again after this I would undoubtedly be sick.  I pulled
off my clothes and dropped the dress and my blood-soaked bra into the
sink, and stepped into the shower to wash the gore from my body. I
toweled off, pulled on my robe, and carried the clothes back up with me
to the roof, where I intended to wait until the very last moment before
dawn. I'm not sure even now whether I did this out of respect to the dead
or out of some desire to punish myself for allowing this to happen.
Whatever the reason, I carried the clothes up to the roof with me, with a
box of matches, to wait.
        I sat very still there for a little while, simply remembering
Nicholas Sterne, and his good humor, his intelligence. Then, I dropped
the bloody clothes onto the roof, and set a match to them. The vampire
blood burned like lighter fluid, and the bundle was quickly engulfed.
        I was watching it burn to sparks floating in the wind, when I
felt Lucien behind me. I suddenly wished I had put on some clothes
instead of just my robe. I hadn't realized that he would come looking for
me, though. He stepped toward me, and I didn't bother to move away. I was
too tired, too heartsick to fence with Lucien tonight. But he just put
his arms around my waist from behind, and rested his head lightly on my
shoulder.  It felt so familiar, and so comforting to have him there; I
was surprised. I relaxed into his embrace, and resisted the urge to cry.
        "I'm sorry, Gwen," he said quietly.
        I was feeling a bit hysterical and I nearly laughed. "This is
what you wanted, remember? This is what you tried to talk Kate into
accomplishing for you. Well, instead I've done it myself. That must make
you very happy," I said bitterly. But I didn't move away from him. My
body needed the comfort of him being so near, and apparently my mind
didn't get a vote about it.
        Lucien kissed my neck. "But once he was brought across, that
changed. There is all the difference in the world between a mortal and
one of us. Besides which, I never would have cared for his death one way
or the other if I hadn't thought he was a rival. I'm beginning to wonder
if perhaps I don't have a tendency to over-react to the other men in your
life," he added dryly.
        That did crack me up entirely. "There's the understatement of the
century!" I exclaimed, still laughing.
        He turned me around to face him, and I allowed it. He held my
face in one palm, tenderly and asked, "What are you doing up here?"
        "I'm sitting vigil with Nicholas' body. Waiting for the dawn
winds to scatter his ashes." I looked away from him, suddenly overcome by
the image of sweet, young Nicholas' body igniting and burning into gray
nothingness to be blown by the wind. My throat tightened in grief, but I
held back the tears.
        Lucien pulled my chin up gently to look at him. "Gwen, you're not
planning to go with him." He spoke it like a statement, but it was really
a question. "I won't allow it."
        "Aren't you going to declare your intention to come with me, as
before?" I asked sarcastically. "Ridding Toronto of three bloodsucking
parasites at once, what a service we'd be doing to the city! Of course,
Nicholas was so young he hardly counted as a vampire. Still, three kills
in his first night is impressive. He could have turned into a real menace."
        I sighed, and tried to force the bitterness from my voice. "No,
LaCroix. I don't have even the energy for doing myself in right now. And
Kate will surely need me. I have a responsibility to her. You needn't
worry. You'll have me around to torture for a while longer." I pulled
away from him at last, and sat down on the roof, staring at the body.
        "I don't mean to torture you, Gwen," Lucien stated softly. "I
think we could make each other happy, if you'd just give it a chance. At
least it isn't boring."
        I didn't respond, but I smiled to myself. No, it wasn't boring.
Excruciating, but not boring.
        But with that statement, Lucien settled himself on the roof,
watching me, but out of my line of sight, and waited with me. He left me
to my grief, and passed the early morning with me in vigil, without
saying a word. I never did figure out if he was sitting vigil for his own
reasons, out of support for me or to insure that I did indeed go inside
when I said that I would.
        As the glow of dawn approached, Lucien rose and put a hand on my
shoulder, pulling me out of my reverie. "It's time, Gwen." I nodded, and
stood, and we went inside with no further conversation.
        As we entered the apartment, he remarked, "I'll stay in the guest
bedroom." I glanced up at him, rather shocked. Was he as shaken as I by
the incidents of the evening? Such restraint was not Lucien's style. Or
was he trying to be respectful of my grief. Odd, it's so hard to grasp
Lucien's motivations. But I found myself not wanting to sleep alone. I
took his hand.
        "I'd rather you didn't, if you wouldn't mind. I'd really like it
if you'd just hold me for a while. I don't feel like being alone ..." And
with that the tears filled my eyes to overflowing, and I couldn't hold
them back.
        "You're not alone, Gwen," he responded as he pulled me into his
arms. "Never again will you be alone."  This sounded as much like a
threat as a promise to me, but I held him tighter and allowed myself the
luxury of tears.
        Now the confusion is complete, I thought to myself. But I was in
no shape to make decisions about what my life would be like from then on.
Negotiations and conclusions would have to wait. Tonight, I was broken,
hurting and exhausted. I needed a friend, and I needed comfort. And
Lucien was there. The rest would keep.

The End.