This is a FK/HL xover. All the FK characters and concept belong to 
TriStar, Inc. and the HL characters and concept belong to Davis/Panzer 
Productions, Inc. No infringement is intended. The rest of the cast 
and this story are created and copyrighted by me. This story follows 
my previous stories: Revenge Is Sweet?,  One Big, Happy Family?,  
Watch Her Not and Old Friends, New Friends which all can be found on 
my web page at: http://www.dlc.fi/~dce/fic.html
As always, all the characters are bent to fit the story, not the 
other way around. All and any comments are welcome.
And again, I would like to thank my wonderful beta readers, Bob and 
Corie, for all of their help. 



WITHOUT YOU
by C. Bart
<dce@dlc.fi>
(c)1997


John Hunter waited for his prey in the alley behind the Raven. He 
was nervous, but only enough so, to stay alert. He had prepared for 
this moment with care, and now he was ready for the big game.

He checked his watch again. It seemed his prey was going to cut it 
close, as the sun would be up soon.

Right then he saw someone coming from the Raven. It was him. Hunter 
had his weapon ready, and he fired the darts, which he had treated 
with his own special 'cocktail', at his target, the one they called 
'LaCroix'.

He saw LaCroix's eyes glow red as the vampire leaped toward him, 
but the cocktail had worked its magic, and LaCroix was out of it 
even before he dropped to the ground in mid leap.

John Hunter could breathe again. He hadn't miscalculated. This one 
had to be old and truly powerful to manage even the little he had; 
they usually just dropped like flies as the darts hit them.

But he had no time for his musings right now. The dawn was almost at 
hand, and he would have to hurry. Quickly he dragged his catch to his 
car and in to it's trunk.

*******************

It had been a great night, Nick thought as she watched Natalie's 
smiling face. They were in Natalie's living-room, and she was telling 
him about a pet dog she and Richard had had as kids.

She had been so busy with her research lately, he had barely seen 
her during the last few weeks. At first, he had thought that she was 
just trying to bury herself in her work, in an effort to avoid her
depression after Antonia had refused to help them with the cure. She 
had been bitterly disappointed, and sad, after her meeting with 
Antonia, but at the same time, she had been truly excited about 
something. Nick knew she was working on a cure, but she had refused 
to talk about it with him. She had told him only that it was a long 
shot, and she didn't want to get into it until she had come up 
with something definite.

Nick looked at her again, and he was glad that she seemed happy 
and relaxed. He knew how much she had hurt after her budding 
friendship with Antonia had come to a sudden end.

This was the first evening they had spent together in a while. 
He had taken her out for a dinner, and this time she hadn't been the 
only one eating. He had actually managed to get down a fare amount of 
French fries, covered with *a lot* of ketchup, of course, without 
gagging too much. She had been appropriately impressed, and the look 
on her face had made his slight nausea worth it. 

"Nick?" he heard Natalie's voice. 
He gave her a look which told her that he had no idea what she had 
just asked him.
"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" Natalie asked him 
laughing a little at his confusion.
"Sorry, I was just...." he started, looking slightly embarrassed as 
he suddenly paused, and got a glazed look in his eyes.

"Nick, what is it?"
"LaCroix.... Something's wrong", Nick answered staring into distance, 
trying to feel his master. 

He felt nothing, now, and that was as alarming as the sensation of 
extreme rage he had felt just a moment ago. Of course, he rarely 
felt anything from LaCroix, unless he wanted him to, but this was 
different. He didn't know how, exactly, he merely felt that it was so.

He cursed silently. This was definitely lousy timing.
"Look, Nat, I'm sorry but I have to go and check this out", he 
said, and without waiting for her answer, he flew out of the window.

"Nick, wait....!" Natalie started, only to realize that she had been 
left talking to an empty room. Great, she thought, this better not be 
one of LaCroix's schemes.

********

Nick descended to the alley behind the Raven. He wasn't quite certain 
if this was the place he had felt LaCroix earlier, but it was a place 
to start. He glanced up at the lightening sky. The sun was rising, 
so he'd better hurry, unless he wanted to be toast. 

He concentrated his senses on the club, but felt no-one, no mortals, 
and no vampires. Then he turned his attention to the alley, and 
scanned the area carefully. He narrowed his eyes as he saw something 
near the dumpsters. Walking over, he bent down and picked up a dart. 
He knitted his brows slightly, this kind of darts were normally used 
to tranquilize wild animals.... He lifted the dart to his nose, and 
sniffed it. Blood.... and something else.

Looking at the skyline again, and saw the first rays of the rising 
sun. He went to the Raven's door and broke the lock without much 
effort. He would have to stay there for the day.

********

Antonia looked at the clock on the wall, again, and sighed frustrated. 
The sun was up already, so he wouldn't be coming home, now. Where 
could he be?

She had called the Raven earlier, but there had been no answer, and 
she was getting worried. She tried to tell herself that Lucien was 
more than capable of taking care of himself, but that was of no avail.
Where could he be?

After five more minutes of pacing back and forth, she picked up the 
phone again, and dialed the Raven's number.

********

Nick had searched the club, but had found nothing to enlighten the 
mystery. Everything seemed to be in place, and as far as he could 
tell, nothing was missing.

He was just about to call Natalie, when the phone rang. It caught him 
off guard and he waited until it rang again before he answered it.
"Hello."
The line was silent for a moment before he heard a woman asking: 
"Nick? Is that you?"
He recognized Antonia's voice.
"Yeah..."
"This is Antonia. Is Lucien there with you?" she cut him off hastily.
"No."
"Well, do you know where where he is?"
Now it was his turn to hesitate for a moment before answering: 
"No, not at the moment."
"What do you mean 'not at the moment'?" he heard her impatient voice 
asking, "Aren't you you two supposed to be connected, or something? 
Can't you feel him?"

Nick sighed inaudibly, and proceeded to tell her what he had felt 
earlier on, and what he had found in the alley.
".... and I haven't felt him again", he finished.
Then it occurred to him how that must have sounded, and hastened to 
add: "He's not dead. I would know if he was. I just can't get a sense 
of him right now..."
He knew that wasn't of much help, but it was all he could offer her. 
There was a long silence in the other end of the line, as Antonia 
tried to take in all he had just told her.
Finally she spoke again: "So, what you're telling me is that 
someone's got him. But who? I mean, Lucien isn't exactly the type to 
go without a fight."
"No, he's not", Nick agreed, "but I don't know who's behind this."
He could hear her take a shivering breath, and then she said: "All 
right, I know you're stuck in there, so I'll come over."

With that she dropped the receiver, and Nick was left listening to 
the now dead connection. He stood there for a moment, and then he 
called Natalie.

*******************

Nick opened the door for Antonia, and hurried out of the sunlight's 
way.
"Have you found out anything else?" she asked him as soon as she had 
closed the door. 
Nick shook his head in answer, and saw her shoulders drop a little. 

At that moment the door opened again, and Natalie arrived. 
They both must've broken every traffic law in the book to get there 
that fast, Nick thought.
There was an uneasy silence as the women stared at each other. 

"Hello Natalie", Antonia finally greeted her.
This was the first time they had met after that evening in the park. 
Antonia had called Natalie once, but it had been painfully obvious 
that whatever friendship they had shared, was no more. For that, she 
was sorry. For the decision she had made that evening..., she 
honestly couldn't say.

"Antonia", Natalie nodded in her direction after a while. 
She wasn't quite certain how she felt about her. She was still a 
little disappointed, and angry, at her, but most of all she felt 
sadness. Under any other circumstances, it could've worked, they 
could've been friends. As it was, they had tried, and they had failed, 
and there really wasn't a thing they could do about it. 

Then, of course, there was her own little secret. Natalie thought of 
how she had gotten the sample of Antonia's blood, and she felt a 
little twinge. After all, she wouldn't have gotten it if Antonia 
hadn't saved her life. Then she remembered Antonia's words, 'what 
ever it takes', and she determinedly pushed any thoughts of guilt out 
of her mind.

"You said on the phone that you had something you wanted me to take 
a look at", Natalie turned to Nick.
"Yeah, I found this in the alley", Nick said, and showed them the 
dart, "it has some blood on it, along with something else. I need 
you to analyze it for me, Nat."
Natalie took the dart, and carefully wrapped it in to a handkerchief. 
"I'll see what I can find out", she promised.
"Thanks", Nick gave her a smile. 

"Can't you still feel him?" Antonia asked, trying to keep her voice 
from shivering. 
Nick shook his head. 
"But you're *sure* that he's still alive?" Antonia needed to reassure 
herself.
Nick couldn't have guessed her inner turmoil from her expression, but 
her heartbeat which pounded loudly in his ears, gave her away. 
"Positive."

Antonia heaved a quiet sigh of relief. She hadn't even realized she 
had held her breath waiting for his answer. 
"Well, I guess all we can do now, is to wait until you feel him 
again. I'm going back home. You're welcome to come along, Nick. I'm 
sure it would be more comfortable to spend the day over there, than 
in here", she said.

She saw his hesitation.
"You *are* going to help me find him, aren't you, Nick?" she asked 
with her eyes slightly narrowed. True, they didn't get along that 
well, but this was Lucien they were talking about. And Nick owed her 
for that little incident back when he and Lucien had trashed the 
house.

Nick looked at her, and saw her worry, but also the shade of steel 
in her gray eyes: "Yeah, I'll help you."

**********************

Nick stretched himself a little as they got from the garage to the 
kitchen. The trunk of Antonia's car had been cramped to say the 
least. 

"Are you hungry?" Antonia asked.
Actually he was, and the thought of pure blood which LaCroix 
preferred made his mouth water, but he didn't want to ruin his good 
progress: "No thanks, I'm fine."
Antonia glanced at him from the corner of her eye: "Lucien does keep 
a stock of your preferred brand, as well. Just don't tell him, I 
told you."
That took Nick by surprise. Why would LaCroix do something like that?

When Nick said nothing, Antonia led him to the hall: "You probably 
want to get some sleep. Your room is the second door on the left. 
You'll find the linens in the closet."
She saw the look on his face at the mention of 'his' room. 
"We keep a room for Janette, as well", she said dryly, "Don't worry, 
we don't actually expect either of you to use them, unless it's an 
emergency, like now. Or, unless you decide that you *want* to use 
them."

*******

Nick went upstairs, and opened the door to 'his' room. The room was 
fairly big, and it was decorated with different shades of blue. There  
was a large, oriental carpet on the floor, and the windows were 
covered with heavy, dark blue curtains. The most dominant furniture 
in the room, was a large double bed. Nick grinned a little when he 
saw it. Behind one door, he found his own bathroom. It was colored in 
baby-blue.

Then he noticed a familiar painting on the wall. It showed a tranquil 
country scenery, with a castle in the background. The castle was the 
Brabant castle. He had painted it from memory, several hundred years 
ago. Nick looked at it for a long while, buried in his memories. He 
had given the painting to LaCroix one Christmas, long ago, but he 
hadn't known that he still had it. 

Finally Nick got out of his reverie. He'd better get some sleep while 
he could. He went to the linen-closet, and could just blink at the 
sight of it's contents. The closet was filled with black and red 
silk sheets.

*******

Antonia felt exhausted, but she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, 
so instead of going to the bedroom, she headed towards the 
living-room. She flopped down into the couch, and closed her eyes 
tiredly. It had been a long night, but the day was going to be even 
longer. 

Now, that she was alone again, she could let her emotions roam free. 
She opened her eyes, and stared at the ceiling. She hated feeling 
this helpless. She wished there was something, *anything*, she could 
do, instead of just waiting. Maybe they would get lucky, and someone 
would call.... Obviously, whoever had Lucien, wanted something, or 
else they would have just killed him. Maybe this was just an ordinary 
kidnapping; like there was such a thing as an 'ordinary' kidnapping.

Antonia sighed. Yeah, right, they should be so lucky. Why would 
anyone want to kidnap Lucien? Then again, someone might think that 
they could get a bundle from the Nightcrawler.... Or, it could be 
some crazy person, obsessed with the radio show.... Right. As if any 
mortal could ever hold Lucien against his will. No, it had to be a 
vampire. She knew very well that Lucien had made more than a few 
enemies during the centuries, and the thought of what they could do 
to him, made her shudder. 

Antonia sighed again. This was getting her nowhere. She got up, and 
turned on the radio. Soft jazz filled the room. As soon as Antonia 
recognized the song, the tears started to flow. It was the song she 
and Lucien had danced to on her birthday. 

*******

Nick woke up with a start. For a moment, he couldn't remember where 
he was, but then it all came back to him. He wondered what had woken 
him up, when he felt it again. 

LaCroix. 

He was most definitely alive, and trying to cause him a headache 
through their connection. The feelings Nick got from him, overwhelmed 
him at first, but then they began to make some sense. LaCroix was in 
pain, and he was hungry, but most of all, he was mad as hell. 

Nick concentrated on their link, and let him know that they were 
coming for him, as soon as the sun went down. He wasn't sure if 
LaCroix had understood him. Their link seemed to go on and off, most 
likely because LaCroix couldn't concentrate from the pain. 

Nick checked his watch. It was now past noon. He contemplated on 
sleeping for a few more hours, but decided then that he wasn't really 
that tired anymore. He got up, and took a quick shower, before he 
went downstairs. 


He found Antonia sound asleep on the couch in the living-room. He 
noticed that even in her sleep, she looked strained. 

The phone broke the silence, waking Antonia. She got up a little 
groggily, and hurried to answer it. 

"Yes, he's right here, Nat", Antonia handed the receiver to Nick.
"Natalie? What did you find out?" Nick asked.
"That was some powerful stuff on that dart", Natalie said, "The main 
ingredient is curare, but it's mixed with at least a dozen chemicals. 
The mixture is definitely lethal for any human, but if it's used on 
one of you guys.... My guess is, it would be powerful enough to knock 
you out cold for a while."
"So, is that stuff something anyone could've thrown together, or are 
we looking for an expert?" 
"Well, it's not really that complicated if you know what you're 
doing, but some of these chemicals are pretty hard to come by", 
Natalie answered. 
"Okay. Thanks, Nat. You better go home now, and get some much 
deserved sleep."
"I will", Natalie yawned, "and you be careful when you go looking 
for him, okay? And call me if you find out anything."
"I will. Bye."


"You're up early", Antonia remarked glancing at the clock. 
"Hmm?", Nick was brought back from his thoughts, "Yeah, something 
woke me up. LaCroix."
"What?! You felt him? Well, where is he? Is he okay?" Antonia blurted 
out all of her questions at once.
"Yes, I can feel him again. No, I don't know where he is. And he's 
still alive", Nick replied.
Antonia narrowed her eyes at his last remark: "What does that mean, 
'he's still alive'? How is he?"
"Lets just say, that he's definitely not in one of his better moods."
"But he's okay, right?"
Nick sighed a little: "Actually, he's in pretty bad shape.... He's 
been held by a hunter."
"A hunter", Antonia repeated knitting her brows, "but... they *kill* 
vampires! We gotta get to Lucien, now!"
"Antonia, he's not going to kill him before he gets what he wants", 
Nick tried to assure her, "and in any case, we can't go anywhere 
until after the sunset."
"*You* may not be able to leave the house while the sun's still up, 
but I can!"
"And how are you planning to find him?" Nick asked quietly.

That stopped Antonia. He was right, she couldn't find Lucien without 
Nick. She took a deep breath, and tried to calm herself down. 
"Okay, okay. We'll wait. So what exactly does this hunter want from 
Lucien?"
"It seems, he's after every vampire in Toronto. He wants LaCroix to 
tell him where our 'den' is", Nick answered.
Antonia stared at him for a while before she understood: "So, he can 
go after you, when you're the most vulnerable, during the day."
"That's right", Nick said grimly.
"But, Lucien would never give him that piece of information", Antonia 
was thinking out loud, "and when this hunter realizes that, he'll 
kill him."
"We'll find them before that", Nick promised.

Antonia just looked at him. She knew very well that he might not be 
able to keep that promise. And if they were too late, that hunter 
would regret to have ever been born. 

******

Finally, after what had seemed to be an eternity, the sun went down. 
"So, how are we going to do this?" Antonia asked.
"I'm going to fly. It's the best way to pinpoint his location."
"All right, I guess you'll have to carry me, then", Antonia said. 
"What? I think you better follow me with your car", Nick offered.
"And what happens if you fly somewhere where I can't get with a 
car?" Antonia asked, "Nick, like it or not, I'm a part of this, too, 
and I'm going to be there when we get Lucien out."
"But how are you going to get back here? If he's badly hurt, I'll 
have to carry him", Nick tried again.
Antonia got a stubborn look on her face: "I'll worry about getting 
back, after we find Lucien."

**********************

They flew for hours, but finally Nick landed in the middle of nowhere. 
The only thing in sight, besides the trees, was a gray, meter by 
meter cement building. There was a rusty metal door on one side,  
and smooth, flat surfaces on the rest. 

"What is this?" Antonia wondered silently. It looked like some 
relic from the 50's.
"Are you sure you've got the right place?" she asked doubtfully. 
Nick glanced at her: "Yeah, I'm sure."

He went to examine the door more closely. It would've been enough to 
keep any human outside, but it offered no challenge to his vampiric 
strength. Nick tore the door out of it's hinges, and tossed it 
aside. 

Behind the door were steep and narrow stairs leading downwards, 
underground. 
Antonia looked at the stairs, and then at Nick: "Well, I guess I 
better go first."
"I don't think that's such a good idea. There are no lights down 
there, and if anything happens..."
"Yeah, but this hunter is expecting a vampire. The place is most 
likely booby trapped with stuff that would be fatal to you. But 
since there is only one thing that can kill me, it makes perfect 
sense that I should go first, just in case."
"Right. And in case you've forgotten, decapitation is also used to 
kill vampires."
"Well, I guess I'll just have to take my chances then", Antonia 
replied just before she entered the doorway.


The only light was coming from the open door behind them, and Antonia 
couldn't really see where she was going. Nick, of course, had no such 
problems. As she came to the last step, Antonia felt something against 
her ankle. She stopped instantly, causing Nick to bump into her.

"I think I just set something off", Antonia whispered.
"An alarm?" Nick whispered back, trying to listen for any extra sounds.
"Most likely, yeah."
"Guess we won't be taking him by surprise, then", Nick said after a 
few seconds, "Go on, we better not waste any time."

Antonia went on, but mentally kicked herself for not being more 
careful. Then she decided, that she would have more than enough time 
to beat herself over the mistake later on. Right now, she would need 
to fully focus on getting Lucien out of this place. 

She walked carefully along a narrow, and slightly damp, corridor.  
Screwing up her eyes, she was fairly certain that there was a faint 
light coming from the end of it.
"Can you see that?" she asked Nick in a low voice.
"Yeah, and I can hear them, too."

As they got to the end of the corridor, they could see that the light 
came from several lanterns scattered around the room before them. It 
was a perfect example of a mad scientist's den; every cheesy cliché 
one could possible imagine, had found it's way there. And in the 
middle of it all, was LaCroix. 


He was gagged, and tied to a steel table. His eyes blazed red from 
the hunger, and the loss of blood. There were burn marks on him 
where the ropes touched his skin. He had also been cut several times, 
and the wounds were filled with hacked garlic and burning tar. The 
table was bolted to the ground, and there were crucifixes hanging all 
around it. And, to really make it perfect, above the table hung a 
huge, sharp blade. 

Antonia swallowed as she saw it all. This hunter had to be mad. There 
was no other way to explain this sadistic setting. 

Nick had stopped breathing the second the garlic stench had assaulted 
his senses. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do to prevent 
the crucifixes' weakening effect on him. He glanced quickly at LaCroix. 
He could feel his rage, as well as his pain. 

Nick scanned the room, and he saw the man in the far corner just 
before he spoke up.
"So good of you to drop in. You have just saved me the trouble to 
having to go out, and find your den."

As the man spoke, he turned a switch on the wall. Antonia barely had 
time to react before she felt something wet drop on her. She heard 
Nick scream in pain, and she realized they had just been attacked with 
Holy-water. There were ugly burn marks on Nick's face and hands, and 
he was now fully vamped out.

Antonia wiped her face dry, and looked at the man icily: "I've already 
taken my daily shower, but thanks anyway."
The man's eyes widened as he saw that she was unharmed.
"You're not one of them.... Then why are you...", he started asking, 
but stopped then, "It really makes no difference to me. Since you 
are obviously one of those, who prefer *their* company, you may as 
well die with them."

Antonia didn't bother to answer him, instead she turned to Nick. 
"Just how fast are you?" she asked him quietly, eyeing the blade 
above LaCroix's head.
"Fast enough. Can you take care of him?" Nick asked nodding  towards 
the hunter.
"Piece of cake. Just tell me when", Antonia answered steadily. 
"When", Nick said, and he was gone faster than human eye could follow. 


Antonia rushed towards the hunter, but she wasn't even close to him 
when she saw him turn another switch on the wall. She knew that 
one had to be for the blade, and she had to fight the urge to turn 
and see if Nick got to Lucien in time. She would just have to trust 
Nick to do his part. Her part was to take care of this hunter, who 
had dared to hurt Lucien. 

    
Nick was almost by the steel table, when the blade began to fall. He 
grabbed it from the top, and threw it to the ground. Then he tore 
the ropes off of LaCroix, setting his teeth for the pain, since the 
ropes were soaked with Holy-water. He helped LaCroix up, and almost 
swayed under his weight - the crucifixes were working wonders on his 
strength. 

Antonia jumped at the hunter and sent him flying to the ground. But 
he wasn't a vampire hunter for nothing, and he was up fast, sending 
his foot to greet Antonia's chin. She ducked, and hit him hard. The 
hunter's next attack sent them both crashing across one of the tables, 
knocking lanterns and several bottles, filled with different kinds 
of chemicals, over to the floor, starting a rapidly spreading fire. 

The chemical steams and the smoke made it hard to breath properly. 
Both, Antonia and the hunter, were coughing for air, their eyes 
watering. 

Antonia heard Nick yell something at her.
"You two go! I'll be right behind you", she yelled back at him, 
parrying the hunter's fist. 

Nick hesitated a moment, but as the flames came closer and higher, he 
made up his mind. He hurried to the corridor, holding LaCroix, and 
flew them out of there. 

      
As soon as they got out, they could feel the ground shake, ever so 
slightly, from an explosion below. 
"ANTONIA!" 
Nick had to force LaCroix away from the doorway. 
"LaCroix! She's going to be all right! She's Immortal, and she can't 
be killed with fire", Nick tried to get through to him.
LaCroix turned his blazing eyes to him, and snarled: "But she *can* 
feel the pain."

There was nothing Nick could say at that. He knew LaCroix was right, 
and the thought of Antonia burning, sent a chill down his spine. 
There were only few things vampires feared more than fire.

Suddenly, they both felt a presence of another vampire behind them. 
A familiar presence. They turned around in unison.

"Janette!"

**********************

They had returned to the house barely half an hour before dawn. 
LaCroix had insisted that they wait until the last possible moment, 
in case Antonia would come out. But the fire had shown no signs of 
burning itself out anytime soon, so finally they had had to leave. 
LaCroix had managed to get home on his own, after both Nick and 
Janette had given him their blood. Despite of that, as soon as they 
had returned, he had headed straight to the refrigerator, and emptied 
three bottles of blood. Now, he was upstairs, taking a shower, as 
Janette had gone exploring the house, and Nick tried to call Natalie. 


"Nick! Are you all right? Did you find him?" 
"I'm fine, Nat", Nick assured her, "and yes, we found him. Listen, 
I'm going to be stuck here for the day, but I'll get back as soon as 
we pick up Antonia this evening."
"Pick her up?" Natalie didn't follow.
"Yeah", Nick fell silent for a moment, "there was a fire, and she 
didn't get out in time."
"No....", Natalie breathed, preparing for the worst.
"Nat, she's going to be all right", Nick hastened to tell her, "It's 
not like the deal with vampires, fire can't kill her."
He could hear her sigh of relief on the other end. 
"Anyway, I'll call you as soon as she's back", he promised.


After he had ended the call, Nick went to look for Janette. He found 
her in the living-room. She looked as classy as ever, every single 
strand of hair impeccably in place, even after their long flight. 

"So, you came back", he stated the obvious.
Janette looked up from the photograph she was holding.
"I felt him, so I came", she said simply, "but this is just a short 
visit. I'm not going to stay."

After a short silence she showed him the photograph of a beautiful, 
dark haired young woman, and asked lightly: "So, tell me, Nicolas, 
is this our new step-maman?"
Nick lifted his brow at that, but said only: "No, that's her sister, 
Elaine. This is Antonia."
He pointed to a photograph which showed two young girls between an 
older man and a woman. 

Janette picked up the photo. The girl on the left was Elaine, and 
right next to her stood a shorter, auburn haired girl. She was 
wearing old jeans and a T-shirt, and her long hair was braided into 
two plaits. Her gray eyes were looking straight to the camera, and 
she was smiling brightly.

She wasn't at all what Janette had expected. Was this truly the woman 
who had captured LaCroix's attention, as she had been told? 

"Isn't she a little young?" was all she said out loud, however.
Nick grinned inwardly. He knew what she had been thinking.
"Her family's been dead for a few years, so that's an old picture. 
She isn't quite that young anymore."

Janette put down the photograph, and turned to face Nick.
"So, what is she like?"

"You can find out for yourself, when she returns this evening."
LaCroix had returned downstairs without them noticing him. 
They turned to look at him, and saw that he seemed to have fully 
recovered from his ordeal. 

"If you want to retire for the day, your rooms are upstairs", LaCroix 
said then. 
Both, Nick and Janette, took that as they cue, and they left. 
LaCroix looked at the photo they had just been watching, and smiled 
ever so slightly. Antonia had been 21 when that picture was taken, 
but she barely looked 17. 

"As soon as the sun sets, my love.... As soon as the sun sets", he 
promised silently.

**********************

LaCroix and Nick left the moment the last rays of the sun had died. 
LaCroix could have gone for Antonia by himself, but he wanted Nick 
to come along, in case there would be something left to be taken care 
of. 

When they finally reached their destination, there was no sign of 
Antonia. LaCroix listened for her heartbeat, and tried to catch a 
sniff of her scent, but there was nothing, save the sounds and smells 
of some animals. 

"Maybe she's down there", Nick suggested, nodding underground. 
LaCroix gave him a look which clearly said that he didn't think so, 
but never the less, he began to descend the stairs. He walked all 
the way to the big chamber. The place was completely destroyed by 
the fire. All that was left was soot and ashes. And there was no 
sign of Antonia. 

Nick could feel the first vibrations of frustration and anger from 
LaCroix. He followed him silently as he turned to leave. At the 
bottom of the stairs, LaCroix suddenly stopped, and bent down to 
pick something up. He studied it thoughtfully for a while, and then 
he showed it to Nick. It was a golden cufflink, which had what seemed 
to be a crest, engraved on it. 

LaCroix slipped the object into his pocket, and continued his way 
up. He tried to think where the cufflink could have come from. He 
knew it didn't belong to the hunter. He had had more than enough 
time to memorize everything about him, and he had *not* worn such 
cufflinks. 

Once they were above, he again concentrated his senses to the area 
around them. Nothing.
"She may have taken a walk, and got lost", he remarked then, "you 
search the northern part of the forest, and I'll take the south."

They looked for her for hours, but in the end, they had to make 
their exit from the sun's way, empty handed.

**********************

Janette didn't need to see the stormy look on LaCroix's face to 
realize that they hadn't found Antonia. She already knew. As LaCroix 
went to the kitchen to finish off a couple of bottles, she turned to 
Nick.

"What do you think happened?" she asked him, "Do you think she might 
have taken the opportunity to... disappear?"
Nick shook his head tiredly: "You haven't seen them together. She 
would never leave him."
"Well then, what happened to her?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."


LaCroix finished off his second bottle. Where could she be? Another 
Immortal? He disregarded the thought almost immediately, they would 
have found her body - and her head. He narrowed his eyes, as a 
thought came to him. The Enforcers.... Could it possibly be? He 
remembered Plato's warning, but he also remembered his assurance 
that he would choose Dr. Lambert. But then again, one could never be 
too certain of the Enforcers. If they were behind this, there wasn't 
much he could do. Not openly, anyway.... Then he thought of the 
cufflink again. Maybe it was just a decoy, and maybe it wasn't.... 

He put his bottle down, and headed towards the living-room. 
He pulled a thick book from the shelf, and began to flip through it.

"What are you looking for?" Janette asked him.
Impatiently he showed her the cufflink: "I'm trying to identify the 
crest."
Janette inspected it carefully, nodding slowly in her thoughts.
LaCroix looked at her sharply: "You recognize it?"
"Yes", Janette said, "it is the crest of the de Vidal family."
"What do you know of them?" LaCroix demanded.
"Not much", Janette shrugged a little, "I met the marquis de Vidal 
in France, shortly after that pompous little man, Bonaparte, had 
crowned himself as the Emperor. The marquis had married an English 
girl, a lady Annabelle Sinclair, a year before. That had caused quite 
a scandal in England, so they had gone to live in France. They were a 
pleasant enough couple, and I quite enjoyed their little parties, 
but then something happened, and I had to move on. I was told that 
she died a few years after that. Fever, I believe it was. And that 
was the last I ever heard of the de Vidal family."

******

After Nick and Janette had retired for the day, LaCroix went to 
Antonia's office. There, he made several phone calls, and sent as 
many email messages around the globe. 

He *would* find Antonia. 

**********************

Antonia felt like she was swimming in a thick fog. She wasn't 
afraid, in fact she felt warm and secure, she just couldn't make 
herself wake up properly. She could hear smothered voices around 
her, but then she was again pulled deeper into the fog, and there 
was nothing.

**********************

As soon as the sun went down that evening, they were on their way. It 
didn't take long before the whole Community knew that Lucien LaCroix 
was on a war path - and that he wanted blood. The fact that he had 
his two favorite children with him, did not go unnoticed, either. 
LaCroix was a formidable adversary when he was alone, but together, 
he and his family were nearly invincible. No one they approached 
needed to be persuaded to talk. They took one look at LaCroix, and 
spilled they guts to them. They used all of their contacts, and all 
of their contacts, but in the end, they came up with nothing. 


Finally, the forthcoming dawn forced them to retire back to the house 
once again. 
"Well, it looks like it wasn't one of us", Nick remarked exhausted. 
They were sitting in the living-room, sipping their drinks. 
"Or, it is someone very high-up in the Community. Someone, who knows 
how to keep a secret", LaCroix said thinking of Plato, who still 
hadn't contacted him.
"What about the cuff-link?" Janette asked after a moment of silence, 
"It's not necessarily a decoy." 
"Yes", LaCroix agreed, "I have people checking out the de Vidal 
family as we speak. We should know all there is to know about them 
very soon." 

**********************

Someone was stroking her hair. Antonia tried to open her eyes but 
her eyelids refused to obey her command. It didn't really matter, 
she knew who it was. 
"Lucien..." she breathed smiling slightly.
"No, not Lucien. It is me, Joffrey, my love."
The voice seemed to come from a distance, but it still didn't make 
any sense. Of course it was Lucien. She tried to frown, but didn't 
quite manage it. Why couldn't she wake up? 

Then she felt his touch on her cheek, and on her lips, and she 
smiled again. But something was wrong. The touch - it felt warm....
"Lucien...." 
"Joffrey. Do not worry, my love. Everything will be all right, 
now. We're together again."
Then she felt a slight pinch on her arm, and the dark fog covered 
her again completely. 

**********************

LaCroix reached up to touch Antonia. She was on top of him, her upper 
body bent down close to him, and her hair had fallen down to tickle 
his chest. Her naked body glimmered with sweat, and she was slightly 
out of breath. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she covered his 
chest with butterfly kisses. He closed his eyes, and felt her tongue 
leave wet paths across his skin.
"Do you like this?" he heard Antonia breathe in a husky voice.
He growled deep in his throat, and pressed his head deeper into the 
pillow. He could hear Antonia chuckle softly. Then he felt her 
straighten up, and he opened his eyes to meet hers. He bared his 
protruding canines as he smiled, and he saw the color of her eyes 
shift to liquid gold. She flashed her own canines as she bent towards 
his throat. 

Suddenly the scene changed, and he was no longer lying on their bed, 
but standing across the room, watching Antonia, and unable to move. 
She was on her knees on the bed, her hands tied behind her back, 
dressed in a white nightgown. Then LaCroix saw a long sword, but he 
couldn't see who was holding it. It seemed as if the sword was 
floating through the air by itself. The blade flashed before Antonia's 
throat, scraping the skin just enough, so a few drops of blood 
trickled from the cut. And then, her blood was flooding, turning her 
nightgown into crimson. LaCroix saw her open her mouth to scream, but 
no sound came out. 


That's when LaCroix woke up.  
He swiped the bloody sweat from his forehead, and tossed the blankets 
aside. This was most disturbing. He couldn't remember the last time he 
had had a nightmare. He rarely dreamt at all, and when he did, it was 
usually about the time when he had been a mortal general, returning 
victoriously from one of his war campaigns. This had been something 
totally different.

He wiped his forehead again, and took a deep breath. Antonia. He could 
feel her presence in every room of this house. And the scent of her 
blood.... it drove him nearly insane. He could smell it everywhere, 
not just in the house, but literally everywhere he went.

The intensity of his feelings, the fear which gripped his undead heart, 
was something he had never felt before. Even the time when he had 
though that she might leave him, he had known that she'd be there, 
somewhere, alive. Fear. How he detested the mere word, but the fact 
remained, he was afraid of loosing her. It had taken him 800 years to 
find another one to love, and now....

He looked at her photograph on his nightstand, and even that brought 
about the familiar ache inside of him. It was a feeling only she could 
cause, by merely looking at him, even from across a crowded room. 

He lifted his hand to touch the face behind the glass.
He loved to just look at her. To watch her get dressed, undress.... 
To watch the way her hair spilled over the pillow when she was 
sleeping, the way her face looked like when they made love. The 
warmth of her touch, her scent, the scent of her blood.... and the 
taste of it. 

He didn't know exactly when he had fallen in love with her, but by 
the time he had known it to be so, it had been too late to change it. 
Not that he would've even wanted to.

He remembered the first time he had seen her at the Raven. She had 
intrigued him, not because of the way she had looked like, but because 
of the look she had had in her eyes. The look of a killer. She had 
been determined in her task to dispose of that man... what was his 
name... Garrett. She had been calm and unyielding, and he had found 
himself to be quite delighted by her performance. Yes, he had first 
been attracted to that ruthlessness, and killer's instinct he had 
witnessed. Later, he had been impressed of the extent of her loyalty 
towards her family. He had thought then, and he still did, that she 
would have made a formidable vampire, and an exquisite addition to 
his family. And somehow, during that time, he had fallen in love with 
her. 

If he could've changed something, it would have been her immortality. 
He would have wanted to be able to share that special bond between a 
vampire master and his child with her. But, that would never be. She 
wasn't one of his -- creations, his child, and he didn't - couldn't - 
hold control over her the way he did with Janette and Nicholas. She 
wasn't with him because she had to, but because she chose to.

What amazed him, what he adored most about her, was her utter 
fearlessness of him. She would laugh at him, tease him mercilessly, 
and in general, show him no 'respect' what so ever. She would say 
things to his face without as much as blinking, when even Nicholas 
would think twice about doing so. She truly was one of a kind. And 
she trusted him completely. There was no power play, no mind games, 
between them. He knew that if he was ever to try those tactics on her, 
she would make sure he'd live to regret them; he had *no* desire to 
face her wrath. That wasn't to say that she always approved of his 
actions, or that they always agreed on everything, far from it, but 
that was part of what made life with her so interesting. Sometimes he 
disagreed with her simply because he enjoyed their debates, and he 
*really* enjoyed them when one of them decided to resort to certain, 
more pleasurable, means of argument.... 


Then he looked at the photograph again, and his face hardened. 
Whoever was responsible for this was already living on borrowed
time. If Antonia was still alive, they *might* die quickly, but if 
she was dead.... 

***********************

Nick wasn't quite sure what had woken him up. It took him a while to 
realize that the anguish and the pain he had felt, were not his own 
feelings, but that they had come from LaCroix. Then, as suddenly as 
it had started, the flow of emotions was cut off. LaCroix had 
obviously woken up and gained control over himself again. 

"This really must be taking it's toll on him", Nick thought, a little 
surprised. 
He had known that he cared for Antonia, but he had had no idea that 
LaCroix was even capable of such emotions he had just felt from him. 
Nick imagined how he would feel if this was happening to him and 
Natalie, and for a moment he almost felt sorry for LaCroix. Almost. 

***********************
***********************

Antonia woke up in a strange room. She was lying on a big canopy-bed, 
and she was dressed in a white, ruffled nightgown. She got up, and 
wished right away that she hadn't. Her head was pounding, and she 
felt groggy, like she had a hangover or something. She closed her 
eyes and shook her head slightly to clear it. 

"Lucien?" she croaked; her throat felt dry as a desert. 
There was no answer. She got up gingerly and looked around her. 
The room was fairly large, and it had a huge fireplace right 
opposite the bed. There was an oriental mattress on the floor, and 
some paintings on the walls. The room was definitely decorated for 
a woman; it was a bit frilly for her own taste, but it had a certain, 
undeniable charm to it. 

The light coming into the room through several narrow but tall 
windows, told her that it was either a very early morning, or a late 
summer night. Then the fact that the drapes weren't closed hit her. 
She frowned a little as she tried to think a reason for that. 

Then she noticed a jug of water on the bedside table and she poured 
herself a glass. She savored the cool water in her mouth, and it 
helped her to clear her head a bit. Still holding the glass, she went 
to the window and couldn't help a sigh of delight at what she saw. 


Directly below her room, there was a rose garden, surrounded by a 
high stone wall. Outside the wall was beautiful mountain scenery, 
bathing in the golden colors of a sunrise. There were no skyscrapers, 
no busy streets anywhere to be seen. And, as she discovered opening 
the window, the air was clear and fresh, so very different from the 
air of a big city. 

Antonia breathed the air in deeply, and she felt a broad smile come 
over her face. Only Lucien could think of something as wonderful as 
this for her. But the thing she couldn't understand was how she 
had gotten there. She could remember everything until the fire...., 
she remembered one of the shelves falling...,it must have knocked 
her out since after that, the first clear memory she had was from 
just now. Then she sighed lightly, and decided it was useless to try 
and figure that one out until she had a chance to talk with Lucien. 


She found a small, old-fashioned bathroom behind one of the doors and  
took a quick, cold shower. After she had dried herself, she went to 
the wardrobe, and couldn't believe her eyes. The closet was filled 
with beautiful, exquisite Empire-style dresses. Antonia laughed a 
little as she saw them. 
"What a... So, we're having a masquerade..."

Finally she chose a deep blue silk dress and matching shoes, and 
looked at herself from the full-length mirror which was next to the 
closet. The dress was absolutely wonderful, but she needed to do 
something with her hair. She went to the dressing table and tied 
her hair into a simple twist. 

"Well, it may not be the most elegant of hairdos, but at least it 
now matches the dress, sort of...." she mused to herself as she 
inspected the result of her handiwork. 

Then she got up and left the bedroom. She got to a small hall which 
had several doors in it. She decided against exploring them right 
away, she wanted to find Lucien first. As she headed towards a 
corridor, or a gallery, judging from all the portraits and different 
kinds of coat-of-arms hanging from the  walls, she wondered why 
Lucien had never mentioned that he owned a castle. She wasn't exactly 
sure what to call the building, but the little she had seen so far 
sure reminded her of a castle. She slowed down a little to admire 
some antique weapons on the wall - old riffles and pistols, and even 
a fair number of swords. 

Finally she got to the other end of the gallery and to a top of a 
staircase. 
"I could probably wander around for a week, and not run into anyone", 
Antonia thought amused.
She slowly went down the stairs and found herself in a large 
entrance hall. She had only taken a few steps away from the stairs,  
when she felt the unmistakable presence of another Immortal. 

Only now, it occurred to her that *maybe* Lucien wasn't behind this 
'wonderful' surprise. She stopped to her tracks and saw one of the 
doors to the hall open. She looked around to find something she 
could use as a weapon but there was nothing. The thought of running 
and hiding flashed through her mind but she discarded the thought 
immediately as ridiculous. The other Immortal could feel her presence 
and she didn't know her surroundings. No, she would wait and see 
what was coming. 


He was almost as tall as Lucien, but he had a long, dark hair and 
almost black eyes. He was wearing casual, Empire-style clothes, and 
for a split-second Antonia felt like giggling. But besides their 
attires, there really wasn't anything to laugh about in her situation. 

As soon as the man saw her, he stopped. For a moment Antonia thought 
that he was going to pass out, but then he seemed to get a hold of 
himself, and he straightened his posture. 

"Annabelle!" he almost whispered, and came to her with outstretched 
arms. 
Antonia backed down a matching distance, and stopped as the man 
stopped. 
"Who are you? And where's Lucien?" she asked regarding him with 
narrowed eyes. 
The man seemed dumbstruck by her question. Then he took a deep 
breath as if to calm himself. 
"You do not recognize me?"
Antonia shook her head: "Should I?" 

The man in front of her closed his eyes for a moment, and slightly 
shook his head in disbelief. 
"I was afraid this might happen. But do not worry, Annabelle, 
everything will be all right." 
"My name isn't Annabelle. It's Antonia. Antonia Jones", she said 
evenly, "Who are you, and where's Lucien?"

The man gave her a bow: "I am Joffrey de Vidal, your husband."

**********************

Antonia sat in her room, trying to make some sense into the events 
of that day. This Joffrey de Vidal didn't seem to be insane, but why 
else would he insist that he was her husband? She had objected to 
such a ludicrous declaration, but he had simply repeated that she 
should not worry, that everything would be all right, and that she 
would soon remember everything. Antonia sighed as she remembered 
that scene. Well, at least he wasn't after her head. 

She got up from her chair and went to open the window. The cool, 
fresh night air greeted her as she raised her eyes to see the moon. 
It seemed enormous tonight. 

Antonia closed her eyes as she remembered how she had tried to leave 
this place earlier today. Joffrey had politely but firmly made it 
clear that she would *not* be going anywhere. Then he had introduced 
her to Philippe. Philippe was a rather short, barrel chested man, 
who only seemed to speak a dialect of French which Antonia could not 
really understand. He was to 'accompany' her until she could 
remember her 'old life', it was for her own safety, as Joffrey had 
put it. 

It was a golden cage, but cage non the less. Even now, Philippe 
was holding guard outside her door. 
"How am I ever gonna get out of here?" Antonia asked herself 
quietly. 

She could tell Philippe wasn't too thrilled to baby-sit her, but he 
would not betray his 'master'. The only times Philippe made himself 
scarce were the times when Joffrey was with her, which was most of 
the time, if today was any indicator. Well, if she had to choose 
between Joffrey and Philippe, there really wasn't much competition. 
At least she was able talk with Joffrey, and she needed to talk with 
him, to find out as much as possible. 

"Maybe I better take it easy for a couple of days, to get a better 
picture of the situation", she finally decided. 
She would need to find out all the possible entrances to the building, 
and what's more, her exact location. She certainly wasn't in Canada 
anymore. It would also help to know how many other people there were 
in the castle. It wouldn't do to accidentally bump into them just as 
she was trying to make her discreet exit. 


Finally, she shut the window and went to bed. She was exhausted, 
but sleep still evaded her. She tossed and turned restlessly for 
hours before she finally gave up. She threw her blankets aside and 
got up. She tiptoed to the window and climbed to sit on the sill. 
She rested her head to the wall and stared out into the night. 

Joffrey had denied that he knew anything about 'this Lucien character', 
so Antonia didn't know for sure whether he and Nick had gotten away 
from the fire in time. Then she scolded herself for questioning it; 
*of course* they had gotten out in time. To think of anything else 
would be a waste of time. She had to believe that they were all right. 

She wondered what Lucien was doing right then, and she hoped he 
wasn't doing anything he might regret later in order to find her. 
"Yeah, right. Like he's the regretting type", she smiled a little 
at her thoughts. 
If only there was a way to let him know that she was all right.... 
Then she stopped herself. That kind of thinking only got her 
depressed, and would not help her one bit. Lucien would be doing 
everything in his power to find her, but she wasn't about to just 
wait for that to happen. She would have to take charge of her 
situation, and *not* let the situation be in charge of her. 


She sighed heavily. If only she could go to sleep.... She would have 
to pay attention to *everything* tomorrow. But too much had happened 
today for her be able to sleep peacefully tonight. 

She closed her eyes and let it all roll over her. 
Joffrey had given her a tour in his 'little chateau', as he had called 
the place. And he had insisted that she called him 'Joffrey', instead 
of 'Monsieur de Vidal'. It didn't really matter what she called him, 
she had thought, since she wasn't going to be staying, and so she 
had agreed. The chateau *was* beautiful, but she would have enjoyed 
it much more had she not been a prisoner. And what annoyed to her to 
no end, was that Joffrey kept calling her 'Annabelle'. She had 
corrected him for what seemed like a zillion times, but every time 
she had done so, he had looked at her with sad eyes and told her 
that 'it would all come back to her soon'. 

Joffrey had ended the grand-tour to a small salon. There, on the 
wall, hung a huge painting of a young woman, and for a few crazy 
seconds Antonia had thought that she was loosing her mind. 

The woman on the painting could've been her twin. Antonia had turned 
her eyes to Joffrey, who had been watching her reaction with interest. 
"Who is she?" Antonia had asked him, even though she had already 
known the answer.
"Don't you recognize yourself, Annabelle?" 

Antonia had turned back to the painting.
"My eyes are gray, not brown", she had remarked, keeping her voice 
even. 
Joffrey had laughed shortly: "It has been centuries, my love, something 
was bound to change. But the rest of you is still the same, it is 
still *you*, Annabelle."

Antonia had felt a chill go down her spine. He had been right. Their 
faces were the same shape, as were their mouths, even the color of 
their hair was the same. It had been like looking at the mirror, and 
the gown she'd been wearing had only emphasized the similarity. 

*********************
*********************

LaCroix finished reading the thick stack of faxes he had received 
earlier that evening. In them, was everything his investigators had 
come up with the de Vidal family. LaCroix tapped the stack with his 
forefinger. He had had no idea what a large family the de Vidals 
were, nor how scattered around the globe they would be. 

He knitted his brows in frustration. If this de Vidal thing didn't 
pan out, he'd be looking at a dead end. Plato had finally gotten 
back to him, and he had assured that the Enforcers had nothing to 
do with Antonia's disappearance. 

Even though Nick had taken time off from work, for family reasons, 
he had gone to the station that night. He had said he wanted to check 
the APB they had put out on Antonia, along with a few other things. 
LaCroix wasn't holding his breath waiting for any results on his 
efforts. 

Finally he threw the faxes to a table beside him, and turned his 
attention to Janette. 
"Go get the cufflink for me, Janette. I left it in Antonia's office, 
right next to the computer", he ordered.

Janette didn't much care for his tone, but wasn't about to object. 
She had seen LaCroix in a million different kinds of moods over the 
centuries, but this cold, menacing calmness he had projected since 
the discovery of Antonia's disappearance, made even her skin crawl. 

She entered Antonia's office and picked up the cufflink. She was 
about to return back to LaCroix, when she saw the photograph on 
the desk. It was a picture of Antonia and LaCroix together. She 
picked it up, and arched one of her elegant brows. Now, this was a 
surprise. She took the photograph with her as she returned to the 
living-room 

"Here", she handed the cufflink to LaCroix.
When she didn't move, LaCroix lifted his eyes to her, and asked 
impatiently: "Yes, what is it, Janette?"
"This picture", Janette showed it to him, "Antonia... she and 
Annabelle de Vidal could be twins."

LaCroix pierced her with his cold eyes, but she didn't flinch. Then 
he turned his eyes to the cufflink. What were the odds?

"This marquis de Vidal you met, was he Immortal?"
"I don't know."
LaCroix looked at the cufflink again, and then at Antonia's picture. 
What were the odds? In his mind, he went through the names he had 
read from the rapport concerning the de Vidals.
"What was his name, Janette?"
"Joffrey de Vidal."

The odds were on their side.

*********************

"Aren't you hungry, Annabelle?"
"Not really", Antonia answered shoving her food around the plate. 
"But they're your favorites. I had them made especially for you", 
Joffrey tried to coax her. 
Antonia sighed and lifted her eyes from the table: "I've never eaten 
pheasant before in my life."

She was tired, and she didn't feel up to playing along with his 
little fantasy. Then she took a few deep breaths to calm herself 
down. She could *not* afford to blow this. 
"Just take it easy, and try to play along. It's only for a little 
longer", she silently told herself. 

Then she forced a smile on her face: "I'm sorry, I'm just a little 
tired..."
Joffrey smiled warmly back at her: "It's quite all right, my love. I 
should've realized it myself, you are probably still suffering from 
the jet lag."
"Yes.... jet lag. That must be it", Antonia agreed, "maybe if I have 
a glass of wine I'll be able to go to sleep better tonight."
Joffrey lifted a bottle, ready to pour her a drink: "Your favorite 
red-wine."
"I prefer white", Antonia stopped him, before she could stop herself.

*******

"Would you like to see your garden, again?" Joffrey asked, after 
they had finally finished dinner.
"The rose garden?" Antonia asked, and continued after she saw the 
look he got on his face, "I can see it from my bedroom window. But 
yes, I would very much like to see it close-up." 


The garden was lovely. But even though she admired all the different 
variety of roses, most of Antonia's attention was focused on finding 
a possible way out. 

They walked from rose bush to rose bush, and Joffrey told her how and 
why 'she' had chosen each of them. Finally, at the far corner of the 
garden, Antonia got lucky. There, almost completely covered by ivy, 
was a small gate. 

"That *has* to lead out", Antonia thought, trying to look as if she 
hadn't even noticed the gate. 
Yes, that might well be her way out.

***********************

Joffrey de Vidal proved to be quite a hard man to track down, which, 
if he was indeed what LaCroix suspected him to be, was no wonder. 
But LaCroix had been around long enough to know how to get the wheels 
turning. It was amazing, really, how fast one could get things moving, 
if one could afford it. Luckily, money was of no concern to LaCroix. 
If all this hadn't been about Antonia, he would have quite enjoyed 
the hunt. 

LaCroix had already chartered a plain, with orders to keep it ready 
to take off at all times. When he finally got the message he had been 
waiting for, they were all ready to go in a moments notice.

***********************

Antonia sat on a soft divan, listening as Joffrey read, in French, 
from one of 'her' favorite poem-collections. He had a beautiful 
voice, dark and melodious, and she didn't really so much listen to 
what he was reading, but *how* he was reading it. 

As she listened, her mind began to wander. She thought of Annabelle, 
and what she had been like. He must've loved her very much. He had 
kept the chateau nearly untouched after her death, as a kind of 
shrine to her, to her memory. She tried to imagine what it must've 
been like for him, to love so much, so deeply, and then to have lost 
it all after a short while. And now, he truly believed that she was 
Annabelle.

Antonia sighed slightly. The truth was, she really felt for him, but 
that didn't do anything to help her get away from him. She thought 
of Lucien, and tried to imagine what she would do without him. 
Would she look for him in everyone she'd meet, hoping against hope 
that she *would* find him again? 

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice when 
Joffrey stopped reading. When she saw him look at her, smiling 
faintly, she mentally kicked herself for letting her guard slip. It 
was one thing to feel for him, and another to let that feeling get 
herself sucked into this strange play. She could only hope that her 
face hadn't revealed him anything.

"You always did get lost in your thoughts when I read to you", 
he said tenderly, "what were you thinking about?" 
Antonia cast her eyes down and shook her head slightly: "Nothing."

She got up from her seat and went to the window. The glass felt cool, 
and comforting somehow, against her fingertips, as she looked into 
the night. 
 
"Soon, Lucien. I'll be home soon", she closed her eyes only to 
throw them open a second later when she felt Joffrey's touch. 
She almost stopped breathing as he ran his hands down her shoulders 
and finally closed her into his arms. 
She could feel his breath in her hair as he whispered: "Oh, Annabelle. 
I missed you more than you could ever imagine. I don't know why we 
have been given this second chance, I am only grateful that we have 
it. And do not worry, my love, it *will* all come back to you, 
trust me." 

Antonia felt his lips against the side of her neck and could 
barely stop herself from jumping. She had to stop this before it 
got out of hand.

She gingerly broke his hold and turned to face him. She took a 
step back and tried to look sincere. 
"I'm sorry, I still don't remember..." she smiled apologetically, 
with slightly trembling lips, and hoped she had sounded appropriately 
shy, but eager to remember.
"It is all right, Annabelle, you just need a little more time. I 
can wait. We have all the time in the world, now that we are the 
same", he smiled at her tenderly, caressing her with his eyes. 

Antonia felt her heart pounding and she was immensely grateful that 
Immortals did not have the perfect hearing of vampires.
She blinked a few times and returned his smile hesitantly. 
"It's getting late..... Good night,.. Joffrey", she said and made 
her exit. 


As she hurried upstairs to her room, she tried to calculate how 
long she would have to wait until Joffrey, and the rest of the 
chateaux's inhabitants, would go to sleep. 
It was time, she would have to leave tonight. She didn't want to 
stay and find out just how long he would be willing to wait for her 
'memory' to return. She only wished she had known earlier that 
tonight would be the night, so she could have made some preparations. 
"Well, you'll just have to do without them, now", she thought to 
herself.

**********

She picked a dark blue dress from the closet, but chose not to ware 
the petticoat which came with it, since it would restrict her 
movements too much. At the last minute, she decided take with her 
a heavy, black velvet cape.

It was well after midnight when she dropped the 'rope' she had 
made out of her sheets and blankets, out of the window. It was 
still too short, but she hoped it would be long enough so she 
wouldn't brake any bones jumping down. She could not afford to 
waste any time waiting for herself to heal. 

She took a deep breath and climbed to the window sill. 
"Well, here goes nothing", she breathed.
She looked down and blinked once. Funny, she didn't recall the 
room being quite so high up before... 
"Great time to decide that you've got a problem with heights, 
Jones", she muttered to herself. 
She closed her eyes for a second and cleared her mind. Then she 
began to climb down. 

Luckily, her 'rope' reached close enough to the ground that she was 
able to make the the remaining jump without problems. She quickly 
looked around her but saw no-one, as she hurried towards the gate, 
trying to stay in the shadows as much as possible on her way there. 

Finally, she reached the gate, and with trembling hands she took a 
piece of wire from the small pocket of her cape. She kneeled to 
the ground and began to pick the old lock. 

She really had no prior experience on picking locks, and she could
only hope that she was doing it right. 
"This had better work", she thought silently and winced as the lock 
squeaked.
She quickly glanced around before she returned her attention back 
to the task at hand.

It seemed to take forever and her fingers were getting numb. The 
night air was cool but Antonia could feel herself sweating. She 
felt like crying out of frustration, but instead, she took a deep 
breath to calm herself. She would get this darn lock to open, and 
then she would be going home. She decided to take off the heavy 
cape, so she would cool down. 

As soon as she started to open the cape's laces she felt a steely 
grip on her shoulder. Antonia felt like her heart was going to 
jump right out of her chest, and for a few precious seconds she 
was totally paralyzed. Then she tried to turn to face her captor,  
but the cape slowed her down. All she saw was a back of a huge 
hand just before it slammed into her face. 

*******

When Antonia came to a few moments later, she was being dropped off  
someone's shoulder and on to her feet in the entrance hall. She felt 
slightly dizzy, and it took a second or two before she managed to 
focus her vision again. 

Joffrey was standing in front of her, with his sword. Instinctively, 
Antonia tried to back down, only to hit the immovable chest of 
Philippe. She swallowed even though her mouth had suddenly gone 
dry. She watched as Joffrey set his sword on the nearby table and 
walked to her. His eyes narrowed, he lifted her chin with his 
fingers. Then he turned his attention to Philippe and said something 
in a low, menacing voice. 

They were speaking French and the conversation was too fast for 
Antonia to follow. She was only able to catch a few words here 
and there, but she was fairly certain that Joffrey was verbally 
whipping Philippe for giving her a black eye.

"Maybe it's not all lost, after all", she thought silently, and 
felt her breathing becoming easier.


After Joffrey had dismissed Philippe, he returned his gaze back 
to Antonia. 
"Annabelle, what were you doing in the garden at this time of  
night?" he asked brushing a few strands of hair off of her face. 
Antonia tried to look as calm and innocent as possible: "I... I 
couldn't sleep, and I thought that maybe the fresh air would...."
"But why were you at the gate, Annabelle?" Joffrey interrupted her. 
"I wasn't. Why? Is that what Philippe told you?" Antonia did her 
best to sound offended at such accusations. 

Joffrey regarded her face for a few seconds. 
"Do not lie to me, Annabelle. You never did before, do not begin 
now."
"I'm not lying", Antonia answered evenly, looking straight into 
his eyes, "I was in the garden, because I couldn't sleep. I wanted 
to... I needed to try and sort everything out. I was trying to 
remember this place... you..." 

She could see his face soften as she spoke, and she knew she was 
in the clear. 

"Annabelle..." he breathed just before he closed her tightly into 
his arms. 
Antonia felt him rain small kisses on her brow, her eyelids, her 
cheeks... and finally he did what she had feared, he reached her lips. 
She tried to remain passive for as long as she could, but as the 
kiss only seemed to deepen and became more demanding, she couldn't 
stop herself.

"NO", she pushed him away from her and tried to steady her breathing. 

For a moment the look on Joffrey's face was unreadable.
"*Annabelle* would _never_ push me away", he finally said in a low 
voice which sent chills down Antonia's spine.
She watched as his usually handsome face turned into an ugly twist, 
and then he took his sword from the table. 

Antonia decided that attack would be the best defense, especially 
since she had nothing to loose, now.
"Joffrey, listen to me. I know you wanted me to be Annabelle, but 
no-one could ever be her - she was one of a kind. I know she must've 
loved you very much, and she was lucky to be loved by you..."
"Lucky?!", Joffrey spat, "Oh yes, she was lucky to die so shortly 
after we were married! And I suppose _I'm_ lucky to have you come 
here and trash her memory!" 

As he spoke he advanced towards her with his sword. 
"*You* brought me here, remember?" Antonia said as calmly as 
possible.
She kept her eyes tightly on him as she backed out towards the 
staircase. As she did, she carefully removed the cape from her 
shoulders and wrapped it around her left arm. She hoped it would 
offer at least a little protection, if he got to her before she 
would get to the gallery where the swords were. 

"I thought you were her", Joffrey snarled at her, "but you are 
just a cheap whore!"

With that he attacked. Antonia felt the blade cut through the 
velvet and scratch her arm beneath it. She had now reached the 
stairs, and gathering the long hems of her dress, she turned and 
sprinted up them. She could hear his curse behind her, and then his 
steps following her. 

She dropped the cape to the ground and hurried to the nearest 
pair of crossed swords on the wall beneath the coat-of-arms. She 
grabbed a sword from the wall, but her feverish fingers dropped 
it. As she bent down to quickly pick it up she almost tripped to 
the floor herself because of the long hem of her dress. 

"Try not to be the 'damsel in distress', Jones", she ordered 
herself, as she barely managed to hold on to her balance. 
And then there was no time to think as Joffrey attacked her anew. 
Antonia could only curse the period dress which made it extremely 
difficult for her to move properly. Right then, she would've given 
anything for a pair of jeans. 

They moved back and forth the gallery, both giving and taking their 
share of hits. Joffrey had gotten his emotions back in check, and 
now he was fighting with a precision and effortlessness of a well 
trained surgeon. Antonia would have preferred if he had stayed in 
the state of red hot fury, then there might've been a chance of a 
fatal mistake on is part. Now, all she could do was to concentrate 
her energy on blocking his attacks. 

Suddenly, she heard noise behind her, from the other end of the 
gallery. She could identify Philippe's voice, but he was not alone. 
She wanted to turn and see how many of them were there, but she 
couldn't afford to take her eyes off of Joffrey, unless she wanted 
to lose her head that second. Then again, if he was to be aided by 
Philippe and the others, that event might indeed be only a second 
away. 

Joffrey never took his eyes off of Antonia when he spoke to Philippe. 
Again, he spoke in French, but this time he only gave a short order, 
which even Antonia could understand. 
Philippe and the others were *not* to interfere, or they would 
tarnish his honor. 
Antonia could only hope that they would do as Joffrey had told them 
to. If they did, she might still have a slight chance of getting out 
of there alive. 
After some debate among the newcomers, they retreated from the 
gallery, leaving Antonia and Joffrey to continue with their battle. 

Antonia could feel herself getting tired as she was forced to 
retreat back to the staircase. She carefully descended the stairs, 
using her free hand to lift her hem enough, so she wouldn't trip, 
all the while trying to keep Joffrey's blade away from her neck. 

He hadn't spoken to her, even to curse her, since the beginning of 
the fight. He had his lips pursed into a tight, narrow line, and 
his eyes burned coldly as he kept them on her. 

Antonia knew she couldn't last much longer, and he was obviously 
*not* going to make a mistake. 
"You better think of something, and fast", she thought to herself, 
as Joffrey's blade yet again cut her slightly.

Then a thought came to her, and she prayed it would work. If it 
didn't, she'd be dead. 
She blocked his latest hit, and immediately lowered her sword, 
trying to look confused - not an easy task when you only have few 
seconds. 
"Joffrey?" she whispered, out of breath, looking into his eyes, and 
doing her best to sound as if she had just recognized him. 

His sword came to a halt in mid-air, and a flicker of hope 
sparkled in his eyes.
"Annabelle?"

That was the last word he ever said, as Antonia saw her moment, and 
took his head. 

She stood there, breathing heavily, not quite believing that her 
plan had actually worked, and then she felt the Quickening hit her. 
She screamed as the force of it dropped her to her knees. She could 
see flashes of Joffrey's long life before her eyes. Most of the 
images were about Annabelle, and Antonia could finally truly 
understand what she had meant to Joffrey. 

At last, the Quickening came to an end, and she was left panting on 
the floor. She raised her head warily and tried to get up, when she 
heard Philippe's voice. 
He was standing on the top of the stairs with two other men, and 
they were yelling something to her. She couldn't understand their 
words, but it didn't take a genius to guess what was on their minds. 

So, it wasn't over yet, she thought tiredly. She could barely stand 
on her feet, there was no way she could fight them right now. She 
tried to make her way to the front door, but they caught her after 
only a few shaky steps. She still had her sword, but even that was 
taken away within seconds. 
"Think, Jones, think", she ordered herself, but her brain seemed 
to be out of order at the moment.

"Philippe, wait!" she finally managed to cry out. 
They had her pinned to the floor, and Philippe was holding Joffrey's 
sword above his head. 
"Joffrey told you not to interfere. You do this, and you make his 
death a dishonorable one. Think, Philippe, is that what you want 
for him? Is that what *he* would've wanted?"

For a moment she thought she had gotten through to him. 
Then he spat with his bad English: "The master dead. He already 
die with honor. Now *you* die with *no* honor!" 

As he raised the sword again, Antonia closed her eyes. She didn't 
want his distorted face to be the last thing she ever saw. She 
thought of Lucien, and saw his face before her. 
"Lucien. No, not yet. I'm not ready to die. Not yet...."

**********************

LaCroix had arranged for the flight so that their arrival was after 
the sunset, and he had also taken care of the trip to the inn. And, 
he had made sure there was a car, with a driver, to meet them at the 
airport. The drive to the village nearest to the de Vidal chateau, 
took over two hours. They could've made it faster by flying there 
themselves, but they needed to save their strength for later. Not to 
mention, the car was a more convenient way to transport the luggage. 

As soon as they had checked in, they continued for their final 
destination. The de Vidal chateau was truly secluded, and the flight 
was not a short one, just as Janette had told them. But finally, they 
saw the building in front of them. They flew closer, and were about 
to scatter around according to their plan, when they heard voices 
from the other side of the main door. Voices, and heartbeats. One of 
them was beating so frantically, they could barely make out the 
different beats. LaCroix would recognize that sound anywhere. 
Antonia's heartbeat. 
"Just two more seconds, my love."

They didn't bother with the door, but simply crashed it down, and 
out of their way. The scene which unfolded before them, made 
LaCroix's blood run even colder than usual.

Antonia was pinned to the floor by two men, while a third one was 
busy bringing a sword down to her throat. LaCroix let out a feral 
cry, and with his eyes blazing, flew the short distance faster than 
even he could've thought possible, to the man holding the sword. 
LaCroix snatched him away from Antonia, and drained him in an 
instance. Philippe never knew what happened to him. Nick and Janette 
took care of his two companions - Janette taking her time savoring 
the taste of her catch, while Nick took care of his one by quickly 
and efficiently breaking his neck. 

It was all over fast enough. LaCroix dropped Philippe's limp body to 
the floor, and turned to see Antonia. She had managed to get up on 
her own, and was now staring at him as if he was a vision. 
She was as pale as a ghost, her hair looked as if she hadn't combed 
it for a week, and her dress was all torn up. But she was alive, and 
to LaCroix, she had never looked more beautiful.

She took a shaky step towards him, and he could hear her whisper his 
name. A heartbeat later he had crushed her into his embrace. She 
buried her face against his chest, and held on to him with all of her 
might. He could feel her shaking as she was laughing and crying, all 
at once. 

After a long while, she lifted her teary, but smiling, face from it's 
hiding place, and looked into his warm, blue eyes. 
"I love you", her voice trembled a little. 
She got up to her toes, and drew his head closer, and in the next 
moment he had covered her lips with his own.


Nick and Janette glanced at each other. This was a LaCroix they had 
never seen before. It seemed that Antonia hadn't even noticed their 
presence, and they got the distinct feeling that LaCroix had 
forgotten all about them, too.


Finally Antonia had to come up for air. 
"Have I ever told you that your timing is impeccable?" she asked with 
her eyes sparkling. 
"It's a gift", LaCroix said modestly, and was rewarded with a 
brilliant smile. 
He gently brushed a stray hair away from her face. 
"We don't have enough time to return to the inn before dawn, so we 
will have to spend the day here. Is there anyone else in the chateau, 
my dear?"
Antonia shook her head: "I don't know. Joffrey and Philippe were 
the only ones I ever saw, until tonight, when those two came along."

As she spoke, she turned to look at the lifeless bodies lying on the 
floor. She couldn't feel anything but relief at the sight of them. 
Only Joffrey's headless body filled her with sadness. It had been 
such a waste....

Then she seemed to notice LaCroix's companions for the first time. 
"Nick", she was surprised to see him there. Then she turned her 
attention to the beautiful, dark-haired woman on her left.
"You must be Janette."
"And you must be Antonia", Janette answered in kind, looking at the 
woman in front of her. This was the third version of Antonia she had 
ever seen, and again, she looked totally different. 
The first version had been a young girl with braids, the second one, 
a sophisticated socialite, and now this.... Antonia looked disheveled, 
to put it mildly, her face was striped with tears, and her nose and 
eyes were an interesting shade of pink, thanks to her crying. 

Antonia smiled warmly at Janette, and said then to both her and Nick: 
"You have no idea how glad I am to see you. It means a lot to me, 
that you came to help. Thank you."
She looked at Nick as she thanked them. She hoped that he understood 
what it meant to her, that he, too, had come.

"Of course they came, my dear", LaCroix's voice interrupted her 
reverie, "we are all family."

******************

After the three vampires had gone to check the premises, and to 
dispose of the bodies, Antonia went upstairs to change. She felt a 
lot better, now that she had had the chance to wash her face, and 
comb her hair. She was standing in front of the closet in her 
petticoat, trying to decide what to wear, when LaCroix entered the 
room. 

He circled her into his arms, and just held her for a long time. 
"I was so worried about you and Nick. I didn't know if you had gotten 
out of that hell hole in time..." Antonia finally said softly, 
tightening her grip around him.
"It takes more than a little fire to take care of us", LaCroix 
smiled slightly. 
Antonia lifted her eyes to see him: "I missed you."
"I missed you, too, mon amour."

After a little while Antonia disentangled herself from his hold, and 
turned back to the closet.
"You don't have to get dressed again, it's almost dawn", LaCroix said 
as she drew out a soft white Empire gown. 
"It's still at least half an hour till dawn, and I thought I'd show 
you the rose garden."
"You can show it to me tomorrow", LaCroix let his fingers run up her 
neck.
Antonia savored his touch, but said: "I know, but I've been locked 
up in this house long enough. I want to go out, just because I can. 
I need to feel free again."

LaCroix understood. He wasn't thrilled, but he understood. And 
besides, they would have all day. He watched as she got dressed, and 
simply enjoyed being able to look at her again.
"I understand that de Vidal brought you here, because you resemble 
his late wife", he then said, "But how did he ever find you in the 
first place?"
"By accident, and coincidence", Antonia said tying her hair into 
a simple bun, "He knew John Hunter. Joffrey used to take him supplies 
for his 'scientific' work. He came there that day, after the fire had 
died out, and he went down to look for Hunter. He found me instead."
Antonia inspected her handiwork, and was satisfied with the result. 
Then she continued with her story: "He told me it was a miracle. I 
hadn't recovered yet completely, but he could see the resemblance to 
Annabelle, his wife. I don't know what stuff he used on me, but he 
pretty much kept me out of it all, until he brought me here."
She paused for a moment. "It was so sad. He adored her, and he just 
couldn't handle her dying on him. I guess, when he saw me, it kinda 
pushed him over the edge", she finished quietly.
Then she shook off the memories, and turned to face LaCroix.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Just show me the way."


As they walked along the gallery, Antonia thought of something.
"Would you like to see Annabelle's portrait?"
LaCroix thought it might be interesting to see if the resemblance 
between Antonia and Annabelle was truly as great as he had been told. 
"Why not?" 


"Yes. Janette did say the resemblance is uncanny..." LaCroix said as 
he saw the painting. 
"Isn't it. Blew me away, when I saw it the first time", Antonia 
agreed, and continued then after a moment, "Speaking of Janette 
-- you never told me that your daughter is so... gorgeous."
"Yes, Janette is quite exquisite", LaCroix's voice was somewhat proud, 
"that is one of the reasons I chose her."
Antonia glanced at him from the corner of her eye, and tried to sound 
casual: "And what were your.. other reasons?"
"Well, there was..." LaCroix stopped in the middle of the sentence, 
and looked at Antonia, who was busy inspecting the portrait. 
As she persistently kept her eyes from looking at him, she missed 
his wide grin all together. 

Using his best Nightcrawler voice, LaCroix continued nonchalantly: 
"There was something about her porcelain skin..., and the sound of 
her voice, that made me notice her. Then of course, there was that 
fire in her blue eyes, which totally engrossed me...."

At this point, Antonia finally turned to look at him, and let him 
see the fire in *her* eyes. 
"As --fascinating as this is, I must warn you that all of a sudden I 
have this irresistible urge to go find a stake....", she smiled at 
him sweetly. 
"But darling, you did ask. I was merely trying to oblige", LaCroix 
said innocently. 
"But of course", Antonia exclaimed with a terrible French accent, 
"Silly me." Then she continued with her normal voice: "Now, if you 
don't want to tell me about it - fine. Just don't try to give me that 
Nightcrawler crap anymore, 'cause it doesn't work." 
She smiled at the end of her statement, and gave him a quick peck on 
the lips. 
"Really?" he lifted his brow in disbelief.
"All right, so you got me going there for a split second...", Antonia 
sounded a little embarrassed.
LaCroix drew her closer, and said lasciviously: "I like to get you 
going."
"Really?" Antonia purred.
"Really", he whispered against her lips.

A lot later, LaCroix picked up with their earlier conversation: "You 
are quite right, my dear, Janette is very beautiful, but she's also 
my daughter, and that is all she's ever been to me."
"I'm not going to say that I'm not glad about it, 'cause I am. You 
can't deny that it could've been a bit awkward, had you two been...."
"Yes, I suppose it could have been", LaCroix said with a slight, 
wicked grin, "Oh, the lost opportunities...."
Antonia gave him a dry look, and slapped his arm.

"By the way, where are Nick and Janette?" Antonia asked then.
"Janette has been here before, several times actually, when Annabelle 
de Vidal was still alive. I believe she took Nicholas for a guided 
tour", LaCroix explained, and led them to the now cleaned up 
entrance hall. 


When they finally got to the garden, Antonia breathed in the night 
air, and took LaCroix's hand into her own.
"Isn't it beautiful out here?" she sighed.
"Yes, it is", he answered looking at her. 
Antonia could feel herself blush under his gaze. 
To distract him, she said the first thing that came to her mind: 
"You know, I just realized something..." 
"Yes?" LaCroix arched his brow.
"I don't know if you like roses or not. I mean, you've never given 
me roses, so... Do you like them?" 

LaCroix looked at her, and then turned his eyes to the rose bush next 
to them. It was blooming with white roses. He picked up one perfect 
flower, and gazed down at it. It took him back in time, and he 
remembered another white rose, another night, so long ago, and 
another young woman.... Fleur. 

After a long while, he lifted his eyes from the rose, and looked at 
the woman he loved. He saw her gentle eyes, and her tender, smiling 
face, and he felt.... blessed.

"Yes, I like roses", he answered, and with a bow, gave her the rose.
He watched as she brought the flower to her nose, and breathed in 
it's sweet scent. He wished that he could freeze that very moment 
in time, and frame it. 

And as he looked at her, he realized that somehow, somewhere along 
the line, she had put the past to rest for him. He no longer felt the 
need for retribution from Nicholas for his sister... Of course, he 
wasn't going to tell that to Nicholas. The boy needed something to 
keep him on his toes.

He saw Antonia looking at him questioningly. 
"You were a million miles away", she smiled at him, "What were you 
thinking about?"
"I was thinking, that it has been a good night", he answered taking 
her into his embrace.
Antonia rested her head against his chest, and breathed in his scent.
"It has been a marvelous night."



The End