usual disclaimers.  permission to mel moser and her gang to archive.
comments to vampwrtr@innocent.com/vampwrtr@aol.com

FOREVER KNIGHT

"Uneven Odds"

Her eyes popped open in distress, and her breath was coming in short gasps.
Had it been a dream?  She looked through the darkness at the familiar
surroundings of her bedroom.  It must have been a dream.  More like a
nightmare.

Natalie rolled over onto her side, pulling her pillow tighter under her
head.  It had seemed so real.  She let out a long sigh of air.  The
disturbing images had haunted her ever since Halloween, and she couldn't
shake them loose.  She also couldn't rid herself of the dull ache of
violation she felt somewhere in the back of her mind.

She frowned:  Violation?  She had not been raped, she was rather sure of
that - no, it was something else.  Something.....deeper.  'Deeper' was the
only word that popped into her mind.  Natalie searched the recesses of her
rationality for more, but there was nothing forthcoming.

She closed her eyes, thinking she would somehow return to sleep.  An image
flashed through her mind and her eyes snapped open once again.  She sat up,
startled.  LaCroix.  This had something to do with LaCroix, she was certain
of it.  But what?

Natalie glanced at the clock on the nightstand, it read 4:32.  She shook
her head at herself; she might as well just get up and be done with it.
She walked to the blinds and opened them, allowing the afternoon sunlight
to stream into her bedroom.  She then ambled into the kitchen to make
coffee.

She reached for a new can and a can opener.  Absently, she began opening
it.  All she could remember was that she hadn't been feeling well for some
time before Halloween, when she and Nick attended the party at The Raven;
then she hadn't remembered feeling at all ill after that night.  She
scowled as an image flirted with her consciousness, dangling just out of
reach, the coffee can long forgotten.

The image she had tried so hard to grasp suddenly appeared before her
mind's eye with the force of an earthquake jolt.  She started, dropping the
can opener onto the floor with a clatter.  LaCroix was speaking to her in
the image; no, worse, he was trying to control her.  Damn him.  Damn him
and his hypnotic games.

What had he done to her?  An involuntary shiver ran up Natalie's spine.
She sat down on a chair and concentrated.  The Soundbooth!  It had happened
in the Soundbooth at The Raven.  She was suddenly filled with fury.  That
man.  No, that ancient bag of wind and mind games.  How dare he.

Natalie frowned yet again.  What, exactly, had he done?  She sat, unmoving,
for quite some time, concentrating, willing her mind into remembering.  She
was rewarded with another flashing image:  LaCroix biting into his wrist
and holding it to her lips.  Natalie scrunched her face up in disgust at
the memory.  That, at least, explained the feeling of violation.

Then a baleful look clouded her features:  She drank LaCroix' blood.  The
look turned to panic.  Why wasn't she a vampire?  She ran into the bathroom
and examined her neck in the mirror.  No sign of a bite.  Not so much as a
scratch.  Was she going crazy?

There was only one way to find out.  Quickly, Natalie threw on some clothes
and took off for her lab.  It was a good thing for her that the RCMP
weren't out in full force, because she broke every speed law between her
apartment and the morgue.

Upon entering the building, she slid past everyone she knew, not wanting to
take the time for pleasantries.  Once in her lab, she took a sample of her
blood, put it on a slide and examined it under a microscope.  It was very
faint, but it was there.  As a matter of fact, anyone else looking at the
slide would have missed it.  The tiniest trace element of what Natalie
jokingly always referred to as the "vampire virus" was present in her
blood.

She backed away from the microscope.  That.....that....evil, sick, demented
creature.  Natalie began pacing back and forth, her fury so great she was
almost paralyzed by it.  Why?  Why had he done this to her?  She tried to
calm herself.  It was so small a trace, she wasn't in any danger of
suddenly sprouting fangs, blood cravings or golden eyes; of this she was
sure.  But a mystery was a mystery to Natalie Lambert, and that meant that
she needed to find its solution.

She stopped pacing as a thought came into her mind.  She looked at her
watch; Anne should still be in her office.  Natalie went to her desk and
picked up the phone, dialing a number.  When the secretary answered,
Natalie identified herself and asked to speak with Dr. Baltz.  She waited
until Anne's cheery voice came on the line.

"Nat, hi, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Anne....listen, I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Remember the blood tests you ran on me a few weeks ago?"

"Yeah, what about 'em?"

"You found nothing, right?"

Anne's voice suddenly took on a slightly detached quality as she spoke;
almost as if she were simply repeating what had been planted into her mind.

"The tests showed that everything is normal, and that there's no sign of
any virus.  You obviously had some kind of low grade infection that cleared
itself up."

Natalie stared at the phone receiver; something wasn't right here.

"But you had suspected something?"

"I....I don't really remember Nat.  Sorry....."

Nat frowned, "That's okay Anne, thanks for your time."

"Sure, bye."

"Bye."

Natalie hung up the phone.  This reeked of vampiric control.  Worse than
that, it reeked of LaCroix.  But why?  Natalie took a huge breath.  Only
one person could answer this question.  But did she have the moxie to go to
the lion's den and confront him?

Screw him.  Natalie grabbed her keys and headed for her car.  The sun was
just sinking below the skyline, as she aimed her car in the direction of
The Raven.

The evil bastard was exactly where she knew she'd find him:  In his
soundbooth, preparing for his broadcast.  She stopped herself a few paces
from the door.  Was she out of her warped mind?  He could kill her before
she even opened her mouth.  While she had upon occasion given him a run for
his money, she did not make it a habit of going about accusing him of the
equivalent of--  Mmmm, equivalent of what?  Natalie didn't know.  Either
way, it wasn't right, it had been against her will, and she was going to
confront him.

Her hand shook slightly as she placed it on the doorknob.  Had she been
able to see the annoying smirk on the face of the room's occupant, she
might have changed her mind entirely.  As it was, she could not, so she
steadied herself as best she could, and turned the knob.  As she opened the
door, she saw him, sitting calmly at his console.  He didn't bother to look
up.

"Well Dr. Lambert, what a.....surprise."

Every millimeter of his face indicated not only lack of surprise at her
presence, but total and complete amusement at her obvious trepidation.  His
flippant attitude served only to spur the good doctor on.

"Your lack of surprise is as obvious as your inability to make your
whammies stick.  Losing your touch?"

She nonchalantly closed the door, and turned to find that LaCroix' bemused
expression had disappeared and had been replaced by his even more annoying
mask of unreadable indifference.  Natalie smiled at him with a confidence
that she simply did not feel.

"My my, Dr. Lambert, we are feeling rather brave tonight, aren't we?"

He punctuated his meaning with a smooth smile that held nothing but danger
behind it.  Natalie did her best to hide her discomfort as she took another
step into the room.  LaCroix merely stared at her, unblinkingly.  His only
acknowledgement of her closing the gap between them came with a slightly
raised eyebrow.

"I don't want to waste your time or mine, LaCroix, jockeying for position--"

"--Believe me Dr. Lambert, there is no 'jockeying' going on here."  He
smiled dangerously, "I have no need, do I?"

Natalie looked away nervously, then back into his eyes, "Yes, I suppose you
do have the advantage; and if you're done trying to scare me, let's get on
with it."

"Oh by all means then, please do."

LaCroix sat back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of himself,
another amused smile curving his full lips.  Natalie was fighting the urge
to just throw something at him.  He was so infuriating.  So confident.  So
pompous...

A smile suddenly appeared on Natalie's lips; perhaps that very quality of
self assured ego, could become the very source of his weakness.  He was
confident, because he believed that he had the advantage.  What if she
could somehow make him think that he did not?  She took another step closer
to his console.

"Why, LaCroix?"

LaCroix just stared at her, saying nothing.  His face remained the perfect
picture of calm and assurance, giving away nothing.

Natalie continued, "Come on, we both know what you did on Halloween.  What
I want to know, is why."

LaCroix leaned forward in his chair and began shuffling the cd's on his
console, "I don't know to what you are referring, doctor."

Natalie leaned her hands on the console, illiciting the desired effect;
LaCroix glared up at her.  He was becoming irritated.

She smiled at him, "You should be more careful, LaCroix.  If you're going
to feed an unwilling patron, you shouldn't let so much of your hidden self
sneak into the meal...."

Natalie smiled at him with such knowing, it slightly unnerved him; though
one would never know it from the looks of him.  In a swift and graceful
move, he stood and smiled back at her.

"Bluffing really isn't your game, my dear.  If I were you, I'd go practice
a little more upon some unsuspecting mortals before coming in here and
trying your hand with me."

He walked around her and over to his cd towers.  He began filing discs
away, ignoring her completely.  Natalie turned toward him, her arms folding
across her chest, defiantly.

"You're not going to admit what you did, are you?"

He kept filing, "There is nothing for me to 'admit', doctor."

"LaCroix, I remember.  I remember what you did."

LaCroix turned toward her, the annoying smile still on his face, "I have no
idea what it is that you think you are remembering doctor, but I can assure
you, it has nothing to do with me."

"You not only forced me to drink your blood, you tried to whammy me into
forgetting about it....."

LaCroix laughed at her, "Don't be daft."

He closed the distance between them with vampiric speed, causing Natalie to
catch her breath.  He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to him.
The sound of her rapidly pulsing heart filled his ears.  He looked into her
eyes.

"It is time for you to go home, Dr. Lambert.  Whatever it is that you think
you remember, you do not.  Go home and forget."

Natalie's eyes glazed over momentarily, but then she shook her head,
willing herself to break their eye contact.

"No....I'll not let you do it again.  Not if I can help it."

LaCroix knew that he could hypnotise her and make it stick; she was just a
mortal.  It was a matter of concentration.  However, was it worth the
trouble?  Perhaps it would be far more entertaining to let her try and
remember everything on her own, all the while, admitting nothing.  He could
sense her thoughts quite clearly.  She was very angry with him, and at the
same time, frightened of him.  There was something else there as well.  He
honed in on it.  Attraction?  He smiled, letting go completely of her.

"Might I suggest, Dr. Lambert, that you 'get' whilst the 'gettin' is good?"

She stared at him for a moment.  Was there a double meaning in there?
Natalie decided to take it for face value, the alternative being solely
unacceptable to her.  She took a step backward, putting distance between
them.  There was a hidden truth here.  There weren't very many possible
reasons for LaCroix to have forced her, under hypnotism, to partake of his
blood.  She knew that eventually, she would get to the bottom of it.  She
just hoped it wouldn't be the death of her.

"I'm not done with this, LaCroix."

He smiled the smile of a shark, "No, I'm sure you're not."  He paused for
effect, then, "Be sure to give my love to Nicholas."

She glared at him, hard.  He smiled at her:  Right on target.  She hadn't
told Nicholas about any of it.  They held a long look; Natalie continued to
glare at him, and he continued to smile seductively at her.  For the
moment, they would both have to concede this round of chess as a stalemate.
Never breaking eye contact, Natalie moved toward the door, opened it and
walked out, slamming the door behind her.

Natalie stood in the hallway for a moment, relieved it was over.  Then, a
grin slowly appeared upon her face; perhaps next time, the odds would be a
little more even.   Then again, probably not.  He had 2000 years of
experience upon which to draw; the odds would always be stacked against
her.  As Natalie walked out of The Raven, she smiled.  Somehow, she
relished the challenge of it.


end part 01
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