Date: Sun, 27 Apr 1997 07:55:23 -0600 Reply-To: Sarah Baker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sarah Baker Subject: A New Home (1/2) To: FKFIC-L@psuvm.psu.edu This is a short story that was told to me a few days ago. The timeframe becomes obvious as it goes along. The characters are not mine, only borrowed for fun. Please let me know what you think. I love mail! * * * * * * A New Home (1/2) by Sarah Baker (zeke@rt66.com) A hint of warmth was in the night breeze, promising summer to those who had almost lost hope. The streets were filling with people, laughing and celebrating the promise, wandering in and out of dimly lit bars and restaurants. Nick walked behind one couple, listening to their conversation about the trials and tribulations of college, catching whiffs of alcohol from their lingering breaths. He cringed at the wave of roasting garlic that billowed from the restaurant when they disappeared into the closing doors. Careful not to take another breath for awhile, he continued on. "Hey, Honey, you lookin' for a good time?" Sherri opened her coat to reveal the leather bikini and pierced navel to the good-looking blonde man as he approached. He looked sad and lonely ... and rich; his high collared coat didn't hide the blue silk shirt. And he carried himself like a rich man, almost like royalty. Maybe he was some foreign prince. Sherri smiled at her luck as she pushed herself away from the wall to confront him. He was slowing down. "You look like you need ..." Sherri froze in mid-sentence when the man's eyes met hers. They were cold and deadly. She felt like she had hit a brick wall at a run; it was impossible to catch her breath for a moment. Sherri closed her coat and stumbled back to the wall, as Nick disappeared into the sidewalk crowd. Nick observed the people around him, but avoided further eye contact. He concentrated on letting their heartbeats merge into one sound, not wishing to fight the temptation of one lone heartbeat. It was taking more effort than he had expected to adjust to a crowded city again, especially since he was still recovering from the encounter with the gang a month ago. It wasn't that he suffered any lasting physical effects, of course, but he was overwhelmed by the ferocity of the violence these people lived with. Maybe he would be able to make a difference in this new city. He hoped that was a realistic possibility. Nick felt a bit of relief as he left most of the crowd behind. He lifted his eyes to study the skyline of his new home. It was a crowded skyline, unlike those that he had seen the last fifteen years. Since leaving St. Louis, he had wandered alone through central Canada, spending a few months at a time in mid-sized towns. It was just enough time to catch his breath, but not enough to be missed when he disappeared. It had been a lonely fifteen years, but at least no one had died because of what he was. Living without LaCroix's choke hold on his very existence was almost bearable, even if he had to be completely alone. Nick frowned, wondering how long it would take LaCroix to catch up with him. Nick stopped in a shadow and leaned against a brick building. He stared at the door of the building across the street, watching two men in white coats maneuver a loaded, wheeled stretcher through the doorway. They made it through with practiced ease and the door closed behind them. LaCroix would definitely catch up with him eventually, and it would not be pleasant. Nick closed his eyes and remembered his last encounter with the ancient vampire. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "Jesse, what are you doing here?" Nick was surprised by the appearance of his coworker on his doorstep. "Um ... look ... I need to talk to you, Nick." The young man shifted his weight from one foot to the other and back again. "May I come in?" Nick glanced up and down the street. There didn't appear to be anyone else around, and he didn't feel a presence. "Sure, come on in," he said, opening the door and stepping aside. Jesse walked in slowly, looking around the strange house. It was the only place in St. Louis that he knew of with steel shudders on the windows. The living room was centered around a large black piano, and held numerous objects of art displayed more tastefully than he could ever remember seeing. He stopped in the middle of the room. Nick watched Jesse survey the living room. The lanky young man walked with a slight stoop, and his curly black hair was as disheveled as his clothing. Nick wasn't used to seeing him in ragged blue jeans; he looked like he was born in them. Nick closed the door and joined Jesse. He watched the young man's eyes dart nervously about and heard his heart racing. There was definitely something wrong. Nick put his hand on the Jesse's shoulder and was disappointed when he saw the man flinch. "Jesse, what's wrong?" Jesse turned away from Nick and ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Nick, I need to talk to you." He walked around in a small circle, obviously having problems deciding what else to say. Nick sat down in an overstuffed chair and motioned to the sofa. "Sit down, Jesse," he said, smiling to reassure his coworker. Jesse looked at Nick for a moment, then at the sofa. He took a deep breath and blew it out. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled as he dropped down onto the sofa. Jesse locked his hands together in his lap and squeezed them nervously. Nick watched him silently for several minutes before speaking. "Jesse, how long have we worked together?" "Two years," Jesse answered, looking into Nick's eyes for the first time since his arrival. "And during those two years, have we ever had trouble talking?" Jesse smiled weakly. "No, Nick, we haven't." Nick was relieved by the smile. He sincerely liked this young man. They had worked side by side for two years at the hospital as orderlies. For Nick, it was a job that allowed him to help people without drawing attention to himself. He corrected the doctor's mistakes only in rare instances when the life of a patient was in jeopardy. For Jesse, it was a way to save money for medical school and a chance to get some practical experience. Nick had watched the true concern in Jesse's eyes for every patient. He was also impressed with the young man's sharp mind. Nick was sure that Jesse would make a good doctor. "So relax and tell me what the problem is." Jesse leaned back, trying to calm down. "Nick, during the last two years, we've been pretty close, right?" Nick nodded. He had worked hard at not letting anyone too close, but Jesse had slipped into his life before Nick had noticed. "So why haven't you ever invited me to your house? And why don't you ever eat? And why haven't I ever seen you during the day?" The questions were pouring out like water spilling from a barrel that had tipped over. Nick frowned at the panic he felt building. He got up from his chair and crossed the room. "There's something different about you, Nick. You're hiding something. What is it?" Nick closed his eyes, listening to Jesse's voice and his footsteps. Suddenly, there was silence. Nick turned around slowly and found Jesse staring at him, his faced filled with fear and a wine glass in his hand. "Nick," Jesse started with a trembling voice, "why is there blood in this glass?" Nick concentrated on the man's heartbeat; it echoed in Nick's mind. Mustering all of his strength, he focused his thoughts on Jesse's. "The glass is filled with wine." Nick's eyes held Jesse's with the force of eight centuries. "You have noticed nothing odd about me." His voice was low and vibrated through the room. Jesse took a step backwards. "There is *blood* in this glass! What are you?" Nick looked away for a second, breaking the connection. He would have to try reason instead, and hope that Jesse would understand. "Jesse ..." "Did *you* kill her?" Jesse interrupted. Nick frowned. "What are you talking about?" "Mrs. Serrel. She was found this morning in her bed with her blood drained. There were two holes in her neck. Did you kill her?" Jesse's voice rose in alarm. Nick felt his own panic rising again. 'Her blood drained.' He walked past Jesse to the piano, and leaned with both hands on the smooth wood. He couldn't watch Jesse's reaction. "You're right, Jesse, I am different from you. I ... am a vampire. I have been damned into this existence because of a mistake I made long ago." Nick turned around to face Jesse. "But I didn't kill Mrs. Serrel. In the two years that you've known me, have you ever seen me hurt anyone?" Nick didn't try to hide the pain from his eyes. It was time to be totally honest. Jesse looked down at the glass in his hand and back up at Nick. "But the blood ..." "It's cow's blood, Jesse. I do not drink human blood. I don't want to be ... what I am." Nick waited for his reaction. Jesse turned and put the glass down on the table, then shoved his hands in his jean's pockets and walked slowly across the room. His eyebrows were furrowed. "But if you didn't kill Mrs. Serrel, who did?" "Jesse, there are others of my kind ..." "Others?" Jesse interrupted. The color drained from his face. Nick suddenly fell back against the piano, thrown by an external wave of rage. He recognized the feeling. LaCroix. Before Nick could move, the front door was on the floor and LaCroix had Jesse in his arms, his head pulled back to expose the bare neck. Nick threw himself forward, pushing the piano to the wall in the process where it shattered like glass. "No!" he bellowed as he lunged for the elder vampire. He was stopped by the warning flash of the vampire's eyes. LaCroix fangs were poised just above Jesse's neck. "Nicholas," LaCroix hissed, "I warned you about this. They can not know of our existence." Nick collapsed to his knees as LaCroix sank his teeth into Jesse's neck. He watched the life drain from the innocent young man and heard his heart beat it's last. He saw Jesse slide from LaCroix's grasp and fall into a heap at the vampire's feet. It all seemed to take an eternity, and he was unable to stop it. Rising up to his full height, LaCroix wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He glared at Nick with anger that disintegrated into a cold stare. "Gather your belongings, Nicholas," LaCroix said firmly. "I've waited long enough. You're leaving with me." Jesse's lifeless face was covered by his unruly black curls. A tiny drop of blood fell from his neck to the floor; Nick heard the splash. An ember of rage in Nick's chest burst into flame. In a flash, he had piece of shattered piano leg in his hand, and LaCroix pinned to the wall with his arm across the elder vampire's throat. Nick raised the piece of wood over his shoulder and prepared to thrust it into LaCroix's heart. Burning red eyes stared into cold blue. LaCroix didn't resist Nick with his physical strength, although Nick knew he could. There was no struggle. Nick froze, the stake still raised. The feeling that coursed through Nick's entire being caused him to lessen the pressure on LaCroix's neck. Eight hundred years of emotion, of a bond, were being forced into him like a lance being driven through his chest. The hate, the love, the pleasure, the pain were all mixed up and twisted together. It emanated from the being he held pressed against the wall. With horror, he realized that he could not push the stake through his master's dead heart. Nick dropped the stake and backed away from LaCroix. He stared into the vampire's eyes. "Never!" he hissed. Wood shattered around him as Nick shot through the roof. He rose higher and higher, seeing Jesse's kind eyes looking at him with fear. he swore to himself as he prayed for the night air to blow away the pain. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The two men in white coats emerged from the building, their stretcher now empty. They collapsed the contraption into the back of an ambulance, closed the doors, and drove away. Nick listened until the noise of the vehicle had faded into the drone of the city. End part 1. Date: Sun, 27 Apr 1997 07:58:50 -0600 Reply-To: Sarah Baker Sender: Forever Knight TV show stories From: Sarah Baker Subject: A New Home (2/2) To: FKFIC-L@psuvm.psu.edu Please see part 1 for disclaimers. A New Home (2/2) by Sarah Baker (zeke@rt66.com) Moving silently, Nick crossed the street and slipped into the building. He remembered the path from a month ago, although the last time he had taken it he was concentrating more on healing than on the course. He made his way up the hall, listening for human sounds. He heard none, save the one he sought. Nick pushed the door open just enough to slide through, and then closed it silently behind him. He looked across the room at the woman sitting behind the desk, clearly entranced by the papers in front of her. The desk lamp lit her face and caused her brown hair to glow at the edges like honey. Nick listened to the slow, steady beat of her heart. This was his chance. He could leave now, and she would never know that he'd been there. But how could he? This woman, this doctor, held the promise of hope that he'd searched for through many lifetimes. So many had died because of his search. She could be next. She looked innocent and kind, like so many mortals before her. Nick could just detect her scent from across the room, although it was nearly hidden by the smell of formaldehyde. Even so, it was quite intoxicating, but not as intoxicating as the thought of a cure. To be mortal again. It was the dream that kept him alive, or, at least, as alive as he could be. Nick crossed the room slowly without a sound. He stopped in front of the desk and watched as the doctor wrote intently on a piece of paper. Closing his eyes briefly, Nick made his decision. "Dr. Lambert," he said, just above a whisper. Natalie jumped. Her pencil flew from her hand and bounced across the floor. "Jeez!" she gasped, grabbing her chest with one hand and the arm of her chair with the other. She looked up at Nick, trying to catch her breath. "How the hell...?" "I'm sorry that I startled you," Nick said, his voice as cold as the look on his face. "Startled?! You scared me half to death!" Natalie said, recovering her composure as she rose from her chair. Nick didn't respond. He watched her walk around her desk to face him, standing an arm's length away. She looked squarely into his eyes and took a deep breath. "Have you decided to let me try to help you?" she asked calmly. Nick was impressed with the speed at which the young woman had recovered. Her heart rate was still a bit fast, but not from fear. In fact, there was no fear in her eyes. This worried Nick; he frowned. "If you help me, you could be putting yourself in grave danger," Nick warned her seriously. "How?" Natalie asked. "There are others of my kind who would kill you if they found out that you knew of our existence." He stared into her eyes, amazed by the smile that was forming on her face. "Well," she said, "it's fortunate that I'm really good at keeping a secret." They stared silently at each other for several seconds. Nick found a strength in her eyes that was even greater than he had suspected. He was surprised by the sudden feeling of finality, that his long search was over. Could it possibly be true that this woman was the answer? Her eyes told him that anything was possible. Nick was shocked by his urge to smile, and fought it. Natalie broke the gaze. She glanced at the door, and then looked back at Nick. "If we're going to get started on your ... uh ... case, we'll need to find a more private place." Nick looked at her with a glint of danger. "How about my home?" he asked, the corners of his mouth turned up into an evil grin. This was her chance to be frightened off. Natalie met the challenge without flinching. "What's the address?" After hesitating for a moment, Nick leaned over the desk and printed the address on a piece of paper. He tore the paper from the pad and handed it to Natalie. "Push the buzzer. I'm on the second floor." "Okay. I'll be there after I get off work. Is 5 o'clock all right?" "Yes." Natalie looked at the paper, then folded it and put it in her pocket. "Until five, then, um ... I don't even know your name." "Nick. Nick Knight." "Nick. Call me Natalie," she said, extending her right hand. Nick looked at her hand for a second before he took it. The warmth and firmness of her handshake was delicious. "Natalie," he said, unable to completely stop the smile this time. * * * * * * * * * * Nick slid the elevator door open, and Natalie stepped into the loft, squinting at the darkness. "Come in," Nick said formally, motioning with his arm. Natalie followed his motion to the table, where she gently placed her bag, and started to shed her coat. The light over the table was like a beacon on a shadowy shore. "Isn't it a little dark in here?" "I like it that way," Nick responded, taking her coat and placing it on the rack. He walked back to the table and stood in front of one of the chairs, watching Natalie. She looked around the large room as much as she could from her vantage point. The place was in a mild state of disarray, with boxes stacked precariously along several walls. The furniture looked lonely, but expensive ... sort of like it's owner. Natalie smiled briefly at this thought. In the middle of the room was the only piece that appeared to be used; the piano held several candlesticks that were deformed by ribbons of wax. It would be interesting to see the place unpacked. With her curiosity satisfied for the moment, Natalie looked back at Nick. He stood very straight and solemn, his hands poised on the back of the chair, watching her. "Where do we start?" he asked, frowning at the effort it took to ignore the sound of her racing heart. "Well," Natalie responded, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, "I think we should start with some background information." She produced a clean black notebook from her bag, opened it, and wrote the date on the top of the first page. Nick hesitated. As anxious as he was to get started, he was nearly paralyzed by fear - fear for this young woman sitting at his table, so willing to help him. He promised himself that, no matter what, she would not become part of his life. With that promise echoing in his head, Nick joined her at the table. "I'm not sure exactly where to begin," Natalie cringed slightly. "Until a month ago, I would not have believed you could exist." She looked at Nick for encouragement, and found none. His face was as cold as stone. Only his eyes hinted at some kindness that might be hidden below the surface. "How long have you been a ... uh ... vampire?" Nick flinched at the question. "Since 1228," he answered, nearly whispering. Natalie stared in disbelief. "Since 1228? The year 1228? You mean, you've been a vampire for," she looked up, calculating silently, " 762 years?" Nick nodded. Natalie shook her head, then wrote the number '762' in her notebook. "How did you become a vampire?" Her eyes were intense with interest. Nick looked away from them as he answered. "The blood is drained to the point of death and replaced with the blood of a vampire," he said matter-of-factly. "And you drink human blood?" Natalie recalled the sight of Nick draining the bag of blood in the morgue. This question caused Nick to more than flinch. "Only when it can't be helped," he answered, his eyes flashing momentarily. "I have been drinking animal blood for a long time." "Where do you get it?" Nick looked at her through narrowed eyes, his jaw clenched. "Okay," Natalie said, taking a deep breath, realizing she was straying a bit. "What are the physical differences between a vampire and a human, aside from the accelerated rate of healing and the lowered body temperature?" Nick answered the question with clinical calmness, clicking through the physiological functions, or lack thereof, that his body performed. He avoided the mention of his more extraordinary abilities. Natalie wrote furiously. Nick noticed, with appreciation, that her notes were cryptic enough to elude understanding by the average person. He waited for her to catch up. "So, if a pipe bomb to the gut can't kill you, what can?" Nick tensed. This was not information he tended to share readily. He studied Natalie's eyes closely, recalling the greed he had found in the eyes of others before her. He found none in Natalie's. The only thing there was genuine interest, intrigue. She was faced with a puzzle unlike any she had known before, and needed details. "Sunlight, a wooden stake to the heart, and beheading are the main causes of death among my kind. We are also repelled by garlic and religious symbols." "You're kidding," Natalie declared, recalling all those late night 'B' flicks. "No, I'm not," Nick responded quietly. He tried to imagine how he would react in her place. Vampires had been a part of his existence for so long that he couldn't remember what it felt like not to know these things. "Can you fly?" she asked tentatively. "Yes." "Please don't tell me you turn into a bat!" Natalie's eyes lit up with amusement. "No, I don't," he answered, trying to retain his stoic expression. The light in her eyes was contagious and he failed. Natalie chuckled. "Good! I don't think I could handle that." She closed the notebook and returned it to the bag. After digging around for a few seconds, she withdrew a syringe, several glass slides, a metal scrapper, and a thermometer. "I need some base data," she explained. Nick submitted to the sampling, first opening his collar and then rolling up his sleeve while holding the thermometer in his mouth. "What's your blood type?" Natalie asked as she slid the needle into a vein. "Depends," Nick answered from the corner of his mouth. Natalie glanced up. Nick raised one eyebrow in explanation, waiting for her reaction. Natalie grimaced as she understood, then returned to her work. With the syringe full, she capped it off and placed it carefully in her bag. She withdrew the thermometer from Nick's mouth and held it up to the light. "Room temperature," she muttered to herself. With all of her samples and instruments returned to her bag, Natalie stood up. "Well," she said with a smile, "I guess if you're not going to offer me coffee, I'll head home." Nick rose from his chair, buttoning his sleeve. "I don't have any coffee," he said quickly, then looked at her wounded expression and regretted the harshness of his statement. "I don't usually have visitors," he added more kindly. "Well, that's okay. I really need to get some sleep anyway so I can approach this with a fresh mind. I'll probably need more samples once I get started." Natalie walked toward the coat rack with Nick a step behind her. She placed her bag on the floor and lifted her coat, which Nick took from her and held as she slipped in. "Thanks," Natalie said as she picked up her bag and turned to face Nick. She tilted her head, studying his face. His expression was, once again, stoic and guarded. She reached over and touched his forearm. "Look, Nick, I only want to help you." Nick frowned at the softness and sincerity in her voice. He realized how cold he was acting, but it was necessary to protect her ... and himself. He couldn't afford to go through it all again, but the warmth of her touch was melting his icy front, and her scent was unlike any he remembered. Nick allowed himself a small smile. "I know," he said quietly. "And I will be forever grateful, no matter what happens." Natalie dropped her arm to her side, relieved to see a touch of humanity in him. She turned and headed for the elevator. As Nick held the door open, she stopped. "Tell me, Nick, were you really a knight?" She searched his eyes as he hesitated. "Yes." Natalie smiled and nodded to herself as she stepped into the elevator. THE END (THE BEGINNING?)