Date:         Sat, 7 May 1994 02:38:28 -0500
 
 
Dear Folks:
 
Following is Part I of the first story I ever wrote based on FK,
but I must point out a few things:
 
I have never seen "I Will Repay" or "Hunters" so if anything in
my story conflicts with any ideas in those episodes, forgive me.
And I'm not sure the title, "Lust for Blood," might not give the
wrong impressions (other possible title ideas appreciated).
There's no graphic sex or violence, despite the title.
 
I will be posting "Lust for Blood" in six parts.  Hope you all
enjoy it.
 
 
 
 
 
Lust for Blood
 
by
 
Sandra Gray
 
 
 
 
     The stranger stepped from the cool night air into the warmth
and murkiness of the Raven night club.  He extended his hearing
beyond the beat of the rock music to focus on the heated beating
of the dancers' hearts.  Some hearts were beating in time with
others--a sure sign that his own kind were there.  Good.  That
meant the club was a good hunting ground.
     He pushed through the writhing bodies to a quieter spot,
where he turned and scanned the dancers again.  Tall and dark,
he was dressed entirely in black except for the ruby tie tac in
his black silk tie.  He fastened his eyes on an attractive
brunette dancing on the floor in front of him.  Their eyes met
and he smiled.  She smiled back.  He moved closer to her.
"Dance?" he asked.  She glanced at her companion--a rather punk
looking young man.
     "Sure," she said and he took her arm.  A slower song was
starting and he pulled her close.  He exerted his powers to keep
her gaze locked to his and smiled as her face went blank and
her heart slowed to match his rhythm.
     "I'm warm.  Why don't we step outside?" he asked.
     "Okay," said the girl.
     Janette, the owner of the Raven, stepped out of the back
room and walked to the bar to check on the stock.  She smiled
at a few of the regular patrons and glanced around to see that
things were moving smoothly.  Near the door she saw the
stranger in black.  "Anton," she said.  Her bartender came over
to her.  "Who's the stranger?"  He followed her gaze.
     "I don't know.  Can I get you some of your private stock?"
     Janette looked at him and smiled briefly.  "No.  Maybe
later.  Right now I want to speak to that man--"  She looked
back to the door and then all around the club.  The stranger and
the girl with him were gone.  Janette frowned briefly and went
back into the back room.
     The man in black kept his arm around his mesmerized
companion as they stepped out into the night air.  The street
was deserted, but he looked for a more private spot.  An alley
next to the club offered the needed darkness and seclusion.
He took the girl behind a trash dumpster.
     Once there, his courteous manner changed.  He released his
hold over his companion, who blinked and said, "What are we
doing in the alley?"  He watched the fear leap into her face
as he opened his mouth and thrilled to the wild fear beating in
her heart.  She tried to pull away but he tightened his grip on
her and pulled her closer.  She screamed as his fangs sank into
her throat.
     Inside the Raven, Janette's sensitive ears heard the
scream.  It seemed to come from the alley behind the club.
Hesitantly, she walked over to the back entrance and opened
the door.
     The alley was dark and there was no movement.  But Janette
felt uneasy.  She walked partway out into the alley.  She saw
high heels sticking out from behind the trash dumpster.
Alarmed, she rushed over.
     A girl lay on the ground beside the dumpster, her eyes
open and fear etched across her features.  There was no heart-
beat coming from her, but the wound in her throat oozing blood
was testament to her fate.  She'd been murdered--by a vampire.
 
                        *******
 
     Nicholas Knight awoke from sleep in a cold sweat--for once,
not remembering a dream.  In his advanced age, was he finally
losing some of the memories that haunted him?  After all, it was
almost eight hundred years and if there was one thing that made
immortality increasingly unappealing, it was immortal memory.
     He ran his hand through his wavy blonde hair, which of course
had changed little over the years except in fashion.  His body
was still a fit and trim twenty-nine, his face little lined and
handsome but, perhaps to some, having a curiously innocent
expression.  Curious.  Since Nicholas Knight was--and continued
to be--a vampire.
     Nick staggered down from the second floor of his converted
warehouse apartment to the refrigerator.  He took out a bottle
of blood and pulled out the cork with his teeth.  The cold
liquid ran into his throat, but did not satisfy.  He drank on
automatically, hoping to still the restlessness and
dissatisfaction he felt.  Almost the whole bottle later he
finally put it aside in disgust.  Clearly he could hear Natalie
say, "It's the blood that keeps you from coming over, Nick."
He pictured her large, dark eyes and long white neck...
     Then pushed the thought away.  He had to get ready for work,
although he didn't really feel like it.  Oh well, maybe there
would be an interesting case tonight.
     Nick worked for the Toronto Metro Police, 27th Precinct,
as a homicide detective, and had done so for the past two years.
Natalie Lambert, the county coroner, had helped him to get the
job.  He thought back to their first meeting in her morgue.
He had been temporarily dead, the victime of a pipe bomb as he
was trying to stop a gang robbery.  He remembered how the
strain of healing his severe wounds had almost made him decide
to attack her.  But fortunately she had had fresh blood on hand
and he had been able to spare her.  Since then, Natalie had
helped him--first with the job, then with his continuing efforts
to become mortal again.  She was a doctor and perhaps twentieth-
century science _could_ be the key to escaping his affliction,
as she believed.
     Nick dressed in blue jeans, white shirt, and black leather
jacket.  He had to get going; his partner tonight--Don Schanke--
would be waiting for him.  He climbed behind the wheel of his
green 1962 Cadillac convertible.  He found his mind wandering
as he drove to police headquarters and tried to shake off his
mental lassitude.  He glanced at his watch.  8:45.  Better step
on it.
     "Hey, Nick," said Schanke, looking up from his desk as Nick
entered.  A frown crossed his face.  "You look like death
warmed over."
     "I--haven't been sleeping well," said Nick.
     "Yeah?  Anybody I know?"  Schanke winked.
     Nick smiled wryly.  "Who has time for dating, Schanke?"
     "Aw, c'mon Nick, you can't tell me that with your looks--"
     Fortunately, Nick was saved from further discussion of his
love life by Sergeant Morris.  "Hey, Knight, Schanke!  Duty time."
     Nick and Schanke walked over to his desk.  "What is it?"
asked Nick.
     "Murder, next to the Raven night club."
     "The Raven," said Nick.  He frowned thoughfully.
     "Well, let's not stand here, Knight," said Schanke.  "Let's
roll."
     The Raven was a night spot in one of the tougher sections
of town.  A standard police cruiser was already pulled up
outside when Nick arrived.  The uniforms were in the alley and
next to the club and had cordoned it off.  Janette was standing
next to one of them, as were a couple of pedestrians.
     She turned as she heard Nick's car and came toward him.
Nick's heart beat a little faster at her distress, because he
knew police snooping was something she tried to avoid.  Her club,
the Raven, had in part a "special" clientele.  It catered to
vampires.
     Her large eyes were pleading silently as she spoke low to
him.  "Nick.  You have to keep the club out of this."  He took
her arms, inhaling an enchanting fragrance from her dark hair.
     "I'll do what I can, Janette."  Then he released her and
approached the body.
     The victime was a woman of about twenty-five with dark hair,
dressed for a night on the club circuit.  His partner was already
bent beside her.  As Schanke turned her head further to the side,
Nick was dismayed by the sight of two puncture wounds in her
throat--oozing blood that dripped in a puddle on the pavement.
The scent of it assailed his nostrils and he suddenly found
himself trembling.  He tried to focus on his job and turned his
gaze to Schanke, who was examining her purse.  "Who is she?"
He would wonder later why her body upset him so.
     "Huh?" said Schanke.  "Oh, Martha Vicars, age 26, local
resident.  She's got money, credit cards, so robbery's probably
not a motive."  He stood up, frowning.  "Hey pal, you don't
look so good.  Not that I don't sympathize."  He looked at the
body again.  "Pretty gruesome way to go."
     "Yeah," said Nick shortly.  Silently cursing his body's
reactions to the dead woman, he stepped away from her.  "You
finish up here while I check out the witnesses."  Then he
turned his back on the crime scene and approached Janette.  In
a low voice he said, "Do you know who's responsible for this?"
     She shook her head and said in the same tone, "I have no
idea.  But you can be sure, Nicolah, that it was no one from
the club.  No one's that stupid."
     "How can you say that?" he said with unintended loudness.
He dropped his voice again.  "How can you say that when you can
see what happened to her?"  Janette looked down.  "Who found
the body?"  She looked back at him.
     "I did.  But I can't get involved."
     "You are involved, Janette."
     "You can't think I had anything to do with this."
     Nick sighed.  "No.  No, I know you didn't.  But--" he
lowered his voice to a whisper, "but _someone_ did."  An
ambulance had arrived and he took the opportunity of the
attendants coming through to move the body to draw Janette
further away from the crowd and into the street near his car.
     "We can handle this, Nick."
     Nick knew what she meant.  The cadre of vampires in the
Raven would search out such a renegade vampire and he--or she--
would be made to pay for such folly as an open kill.  That was
something, however, that he couldn't put in a police report.
     "I know," he said.  "But I have a job to do, Janette.
I'll do what I can to keep you and the Raven out of it, but I
can't make guarantees."
     "I know."  Janette frowned and touched his cheek.  "You
look pale, Nicolah."
     He pulled back from her.  "I'm fine," he said, although
he still wasn't quite recovered from the odd reaction he'd
had to the murder victim.  To cover it and focus, he began
asking more questions.  "Have you got _any_ idea what's
happened here?"
     "No," said Janette.  "I heard a scream, came out, and
found her there.  No one else was around.  Then some
pedestrians came by."  Which explained the police.  "But..."
     "But?"
     "There was a stranger in the club.  I'd never seen him
before."
     "One of--us?"
     Janette nodded.  "In fact, he was dancing with her."
     "What did he look like?"
     "I only got a brief glimpse of him.  He was tall and dark.
and dressed all in black.  I was going to find out more about
him--tell him the club's rules.  But I was distracted and when
I looked for him again, he was gone."
     "Can you tell me anything else about him?  Maybe a
facial description?"
     "No, I only saw him for a moment."
     "What about Anton?  Do you think he noticed him?"
     "I don't know.  You can ask him."
     Forensics and photographers were now on the crime scene.
"Okay, Janette.  Don't worry.  We'll find out who did this."
     "_We_ certainly will.  The Raven is a haven for our kind,
Nicholas.  I won't have it jeopardized."  She turned and went
back into the club.
     The ambulance had loaded its burden for transport to the
morgue and was pulling away.  Relieved, Nick walked back over
to the crime scene.  "Find anything, Schanke?"
     "Naw."  Nick looked around.  There didn't seem to be any
physical clues of note to be found.  "What about witnesses?"
     "Janette found the body.  She didn't see anyone else."
     "Well, let's ask around inside."
     "I'll do that."
     "But, Nick--"
     "I'm known here, Schanke.  Wait in the car.  I shouldn't
be long."  Schanke grumbled under his breath and headed for
Nick's car.
     In the Raven, Anton wasn't any more helpful than Janette.
He'd been busy serving drinks.  No one else had seemed to
notice anything either--or perhaps didn't want to speak.  The
mortals didn't trust cops and the vampires weren't sure if
they could trust _him_, Nick suspected.
     Nick went back out to his car and got in it.  "Well?"
said Schanke.
     "The victim was seen in the club--with a tall, dark
stranger dressed in black."
     "Oh, great description.  Is that all you found out?"
     "Yeah.  But I left my number at the bar."
     Schanke hesitated for a moment, then said, "I hope I
don't detect any desire to keep the Raven out of this case."
     "Don't be ridiculous, Schanke," said Nick lightly.
     "Well, I know Janette is a--_friend_ of yours."
     "What do you mean by that?" said Nick, unable and maybe
unwilling to keep the threat out of his voice.
 
     Schanke was contrite.  "Nothing, old buddy," he said, smiling
uncertainly.
     "Good.  Let's get to the morgue and see what Natalie has
to say."  They rode in silence, Nick's thoughts in a turmoil.
How was he going to keep Janette and her circle out of this mess?
If he laid too low on the case, Schanke might suspect something.
He might suspect something already.
     Don Schanke, after all, was a good cop.  Forty-ish, dark,
slightly overweight, and balding, his open and friendly manner
belied a keen deductive mind.  They were usually teamed together
when Schanke worked the night shift.  But his partner did have
his blind spots.  He had not, for instance, figured out that
Nick was a vampire.  He, along with his other comrades on the
force, bought the fiction of Nick's allergy to the sun.  It
didn't hurt to have Nat's support in that respect, either.
Still, he must be careful.
     Natalie was already examining the body when they arrived
at the morgue.  Her large, dark eyes met Nick's eyes with worry
as he entered.  Briefly he wondered at the similar physical
appearance of Natalie and Janette.  Both looked about thirty,
both large-eyed, dark-haired beauties.  But Janette, of course,
was far older.  Nick pulled his mind back to the matters at hand.
"How's it going, Nat?" he asked, avoiding looking at the body.
     She stared at him.  "Well, the apparent cause of death is
a--wound--in her throat.  Severed the artery.  I suspect a--
great loss of blood."
     "Wasn't much in the alley," said Schanke.
     "Oh?" she asked, her brows rising.  But her eyes did not
leave Nick's.  "Where was she found?"
     "In the alley next to the Raven night club," said Nick.
He looked away from her and at his partner.  "Schanke, why
don't you take my car and go back to the station and start on
the preliminary paperwork?  I'll wait here for Nat's report."
He held out his car keys.
     "Aw, Nick, why do you always sack me with the boring crap?"
     "C'mon, you know you're better at that stuff than me."
Schanke still hesitated.  "Please."  Nick smiled.
     Schanke sighed and took the keys.  "All right.  But _you_
have to do the legwork on this one, buddy."  He paused, then
added, "What am I _saying_?  All that Grade A action!  I take
it back, Nick!"
     "Get going, Schanke."
     "Okay, okay," he grumbled.  Then he left.
     Nick turned back to Natalie.  "Is this what I think it is?"
she asked.  Nick glanced briefly at the body; it still shook
him, but not as badly.  He looked again at the coroner.
     "I'm afraid so, Nat."
     "But who--"
     "I don't know.  Neither does Janette.  We suspect a
renegade."
     "Renegade?" asked Natalie.
     "Janette noticed a strange vampire in the club.  Apparently
he wasn't there long enough to be made aware of the rules."
     "Rules?"
     "It's not important."  He ran a hand through his hair and
sighed.  "What's important is to find the murderer--_without_
involving the police."
     "That's not going to be easy, is it?"
     "No."  At that moment Nick wished he was on vacation.  He
had tried to take one a few weeks ago, but Captain Stonetree
had called him in to go undercover on a case where addicts in
a Twelve Step program were being murdered.  Of course, when
Stonetree asked him if he had any bad habis, Nick hadn't
mentioned his addiction to blood.  Actually, the program _had_
helped him for a while, until he was disillusioned and fell
off the wagon, so to speak.  The girl on the table could have
just as easily been killed by him _then_.  If Nat hadn't
talked to him, made him see light again.  He frowned.
     "Nick?" said Natalie.  "Is something wrong?  You look pale."
     He sighed again.  "It's just the job."  Wasn't it?  The
stress _had_ been getting to him; that's why he'd tried to
take a vacation.  Maybe he'd take one after this mess with
Janette was cleared up.  Natalie touched his arm.
     "Don't let this case get to you, Nick."
     He smiled wryly.  "Get me your medical report as soon as
you can."  She nodded and he left the room.
     Schanke was leaving Stonetree's office when he got back
to the station.  "Nat's report done already?" he asked in
disbelief and almost--fear.
     Nick hesitated.  "No.  She figured it was going to take
a while, so I decided to come back here."
     "Oh."  Schanke seemed nervous.  Nick wondered why.
     "Nick!" came Captain Stonetree's voice.  Nick turned to
see his superior standing at his office door.  "Can I see you
for a minute?"
     "Sure, Cap'n," said Nick lightly.  But he suddenly got a
bad feeling.  He looked at Schanke, who sat and started to
look through paperwork on his desk.
     Stonetree closed the door behind him and Nick and said,
"Sit down, Nick."
     "Captain, is this necessary?  I'm right in the middle of
a case--"
     "I know.  The case is what I wanted to talk to you about."
Stonetree sat down.  He was a huge bear of a man with a slow,
deliberate way of talking.  Nick sat in the chair opposite
him and waited.  "Schanke just filled me in on the murder
outside the Raven."  Nick waited, not knowing what to say.
"He says you're friends with the owner, Janette--"  He
consulted a paper in front of him on which he'd made notes.
     "What's the point, Captain?" Nick interrupted.
     Stonetree leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his
head, and studied his detective.  "How close are you to this
woman?"
     "We're--friends.  I go to the club once in a while.
She's helped with information on other cases I've worked on."
     "Mmm--hmm.  Schanke isn't sure you can be objective
about this case."
     Nick stood up, angry.  "Schanke's wrong!"
     "I don't know, Nick.  You seem personally involved to me."
     Nick knew that he had to somehow convince his captain to
let him stay on the case.  He had to be in a position to
protect Janette and her companions from discovery.  "Captain,
please.  Don't take me off the case."  He began to pace the
room.  He knew it was a mistake, but he couldn't seem to stop
himself.
     Stonetree watched him silently for a minute.  "I'm sorry,
Nick.  I can't let you do it," he said.  Before Nick could
say anything more, he continued, "I'm relieving you of duty."
     Nick stopped in his tracks.  "You're what?"
     "Seems to me you didn't get to finish your vacation.
I'm giving you time off."
     "But, Captain, I don't want time off."
     "You _need_ time off," said Stonetree.  "I can see it.
You know it."
     "No, Captain--"
     "The stress gets to all of us, Knight--even you.  And
you look...tired."
     Nick sighed.  "I'm not going to be able to change your
mind, am I?"
     "Nope.  Take two weeks off.  Relax.  Schanke can handle
your load while you're gone."  Nick grimly turned to go.
"And Nick--"  He looked again at his captain.  "I expect you
to not work on any cases while you're off duty.  Understood?"
     Nick pressed his lips together, then said, "Understood,
Captain."
     "Good.  Go home.  Enjoy yourself."
     Striving to maintain calm, Nick said, "I'll try, Captain."
Stonetree picked up some paperwork on his desk.  Nick took his
action as a sign that he was finally dismissed.
     Once out of Stonetree's office, Nick's eyes fastened on
Schanke at his desk, apparently hard at work on his
preliminary report.  Nick approached him.  "Why did you go
to Stonetree, Schanke?"
     Schanke at least had the good grace to look cowed.
"Hey, nothing personal--"
     "The hell it wasn't!" Nick muttered in a low voice.
"Well, the case is all yours now, _buddy_.  I'm out of here."
     "Out of here?"
     "Stonetree gave me two weeks vacation.  So you're on
your own.  Hope you enjoy it."
     "Hey, Nick--" Schanke started, but Nick was already
headed for the door.
     Nick stopped for a moment outside and let the cool air
cool his temper somewhat.  Due to Schanke's interference,
he would now have to find the renegade vampire on his own--
which could be to his advantage.  But he would be hampered
in finding out how close the police might get to Janette's
secret.
     Nick got in the Caddy and drove home.  Truth be told, he
_was_ glad to be off for a while.  Especially since he'd
turned so sensitive with this case.  He just wished it wasn't
at this particular time--when Janette needed him.  He got a
bottle of blood from the refrigerator and poured a glass.
But the drink was unsatisfying.
     He decided to go to the Raven.  Since he was no longer
on the murder case, no one could stop him.  Besides, Janette
needed to know what was happening.
     The Raven was busy despite the lateness of the hour.
But since so many of its patrons were denizens of the night,
that was to be expected.  Apparently the murder in the alley
had had no marked effect on business.  The hard rock music
throbbed into his skull and the scent of the humans around
him was almost intoxicating.
     Janette was leaning on the bar, smiling at the bartender.
But when she turned and saw Nick, she immediately became
serious.  He approached her.
     "Nicola," she said.  "Have you found out something
already?"
     "No," he said.  "No, I've been pulled off the case."
     "What?"
     Nick raised his eyebrows.  "Seems the Captain's worried
about my objectivity.  Since we're--friends."
     "I see.  What does that mean now?"
     "It means you'll probably have Schanke poking his nose
around."
     "Is that going to be a problem?"
     "I don't think so.  Not if you keep me posted.  I'll
try to keep your secret from being found out, you know that."
Perhaps he could use Nat to keep tabs on the investigation.
     "But if you're assigned another case--"
     "I won't be."  She raised her eyebrows.  "Stonetree put
me on vacation for two weeks."
     "I see.  That's why you're here."
     "It's--part of the reason."  The sound and the lights
of the club were beginning to irritate him.  "Listen, Janette,
can we go in the back?  I'm...not feeling like a party right
now."
     "You know you are always welcome, Nicky."  They went
into the back of the club, to Janette's private rooms.
"But really, darling, you _do_ look dreadful.  I can see
why Stonetree gave you a vacation.  Can I get you a...drink?"
     "No, no I'm fine," said Nick, dropping onto a couch.
He really _did_ feel unwell, but he had no idea why.
     "Are you sure?  When did you last feed?" asked Janette,
sitting beside him.
     "Not long ago."
     "What was it?  Cow's blood?  Or sheep's?  Really, Nicky,
why don't you have some of my private stock?"  She smiled
seductively.
     "You know how I feel about human blood."
     Janette sighed.  "Suit yourself."  She paused, then
continued, "You know, you could have just called me."
     Nick looked at Janette's dark hair; it reminded him of
Natalie.  Janette's eyes were large too, but not as dark.
"I know.  But I felt the need for...companionship."
     "Oh?" she said, her smile widening.  She ran a finger
up his arm to his neck and caressed him there lightly.
Nick felt his temperature rise and his blood started to
pound.  Janette leaned closer and caressed his cheek with
her own, her breath coming ragged in his ear.  She began to
ease off his coat.
     Their eyes met.  Nick kissed her, feeling the mental
pleasure in her response.  Drawing her close, he kissed her
more deeply and heard her heart begin to pound in rhythm
with his.  Surely this was what he needed.  He stayed too
often away from his own kind, since most of them believed
that humans were meant to be their prey--not their companions.
And even though this woman had led him as a human to the one
who had made him what he now was, Nick could not forget the
years they had spent in each other's company, many of them
quite pleasant.  She was then, and continued to be, a
temptress.
     And her love, although dangerous, was nothing if not
honest.  He kissed her cheeks, her neck, feeling the vampire
in him rising to the fore and not fighting it.  When their
eyes met again, he knew his were just as yellow as hers.
She opened her mouth, baring her fangs.  His growl was met
by one of hers as he lowered his mouth and pierced her
throat.  Their blood sang together when she pierced him
and long withheld thoughts and memories flowed between them
as they drank of each other.  He was hardly aware when she
pushed him down and mounted him.  He was drunk on the taste
of her--the taste that was almost human.  Suddenly afraid,
he released her.
     It took a moment for Janette to recover from Nick's
abrupt separation from her.  She was still straddling him
and already his passion for her was draining away.  His
blood stained her lips but still she breathed in a husky
voice, "Nicky.  Nicky, what is it?"
     Nick pushed her away from him and refastened his
clothes.  He still felt upset and, worse, was trembling.
"I--I don't know," he admitted.  "I'm sorry, Janette.  I
guess I shouldn't have come here."
     Janette's eyes had finally returned to their normal
color.  She wiped her lips with the back of her hand.  He
could see she was irritated.  And he couldn't blame her,
since he knew she had been left unsatisfied.  But then, so
was he.  "No, you shouldn't have," she said.  "Not if you
didn't really want me."  Nick said nothing, not able to
explain it himself.  "Perhaps it's Natalie Lambert you
want, hmm?"
     "No!" Nick said, standing.  He picked up his coat.  "I--
I'm sorry, Janette.  I thought--I...I have to go now."  He
pulled on his coat and turned to leave.
     "Go then!  And don't come back!"  Sighing, Nick moved
back out into the club.  Just as he reached the exit, he
heard Janette yell, "Wait, Nick!  I'm sorry!  Nick!"
     Then he was out in the night and up into the sky.
Janette didn't follow.  He soared over the city.  The blood
he'd shared from Janette filled his veins with power and
speed.  He hadn't felt so alive in a long time.  But when
he landed on the street outside his building some time later,
the same vague feeling of dissatisfaction filled him.  He
went inside his apartment.
     Nick touched his mouth.  Janette's blood was sticky
there.  He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped
his mouth and chin.  Then he went to the refrigerator and
poured himself a drink.  And sat and looked at it.
 
                      *******
 
     Susan Andrews stepped out of Jilly's stip club.  The
night was cold and dark; she pulled the collar of her coat
up closer around her throat.
     Tips had been good and the grabbers low.  If only all
her nights stripping could be like tonight.  She started
down the street to the parking garage.
     One of her least favorite things to do was walk to her
car after the club closed.  She was always wary of trouble.
Was that the sound of footsteps behind her?  She stopped and
listened, hearing nothing.
     Only one more block to go.  But it was along one of the
darkest sections of the street.  The footsteps sounded behind
her again.  She turned, but nothing was there.  The streets
were deserted.
     She turned back around to finish the walk to her car--
only to see a man in front of her.  She let out a cry of
alarm.
     The stranger was clad in black except for a red gem of
some kind holding his tie.  He smiled.  "I'm sorry.  Did I
frighten you?"  His voice was deep and musical, his eyes
dark and--compelling.
     Susan smiled hesitantly.  "Yes, you did rather," she
said.
     "It's late to be on the streets," said the man.  "Could
be--dangerous."
     "It's one of the pitfalls of being a working girl,"
said Susan.  Then she hastened to add, "That is, I'm not a
hooker.  I'm a stripper--at Jilly's."  Now why had she said
something so stupid to a man she didn't know?
     "I see.  Can I escort you home?"
     "Oh, no, that's all right," said Susan quickly, uneasy
and wanting to be away from the stranger.  She started to
walk away from him, but heard him behind her...following.
     Susan wondered what she could say to discourage the
stranger, charming though he seemed to be.  Suddenly his
hand was on her arm--in a tight grip.  He was pulling her
into the darkness of a nearby alley.  Terrified, she
screamed, "Let me go!"
     And was petrified.  The man's eyes had turned from
dark to an animal yellow and an animal growl escaped his
lips.  Then his mouth opened--exposing two long _fangs_
where his eye teeth should have been.  She screamed.  Then
screamed again as his fangs pierced her throat.
 
                       *******
 
     Nick came awake with a start to the sound of his answering
machine.  He blinked and tried to clear his head.  "Yeah, Nick
Knight.  I'm either in bed or incommunicado so if you want to
leave your name and number, go ahead.  BEEP!"
     "Nick?" came Natalie's voice.  "I know you're resting,
but I found a great old movie on video and wondered if you'd
like to watch it with me.  Call me later, okay?"
     Nick smiled.  Natalie was a sucker for old movies.  He
wondered what she'd found this time.  He walked downstairs and
dialed her number.  "Nat?  It's Nick."
     "Oh hi, Nick.  Did I wake you?"
     "Yeah, but that's okay.  So what's this movie you found?"
     "It's a surprise.  Can you come over tonight and watch it
with me?"
     Nick hesitated, then said, "Sure.  What time?"
     "About nine?"
     "I'll be there.  Should I bring anything?"
     "Just yourself."  She paused before adding, "Enjoying your
vacation?"  So she had heard about it already.
     "Such as it is."
     Natalie hesitated.  Then she said, "I'm sure Schanke
only did what he thought was right."
     "I don't want to discuss it.  Maybe it's for the best."
He hesitated, then continued, "Nat, I'm--going to need someone
to keep me informed about the investigation.  Can I count on
your help?"
     "Of course, Nick," Natalie replied readily.
     "Thanks.  So what's the word on the autopsy?"
     "It's as I thought.  Death was due to loss of blood."
     "Anything else?"
     "Some skin samples under the nails.  I'm still working on
the DNA."  Natalie sounded upset.  Nick frowned.
     "What else, Nat?" he said.
     "There's--been another murder, Nick.  Same M.O.  A stripper
by the name of Susan Andrews.  A garbage collector found her
body in an alley near Jilly's strip club this morning."
Nick's heart sank.  Two victims in the same night.
     "Have you been able to pinpoint the time of death?"
     "She died somewhere between two and four a.m."
     "Anything else?"
     "Nothing so far."
     "Okay.  Keep me posted.  And don't mention anything of
what you've told me to Schanke."
     "I won't."  She paused and added, "You've got to find out
who's doing this, Nick.  If you could have seen the fear on
Susan Andrews' face--  He's evil.  Well, see you later, okay?"
     "Yeah.  'Bye, Nat."
     "'Bye."
     Nick hung up the phone.  And was suddenly cast back into
his memories.
 
                        *******
 
     LaCroix was sitting by the fireplace in the French chateau
they had rented for this summer in 1501.  He was urging out a
tune on his rebec while staring into the flames.  Nick studied
him, wondering, and finally gave voice to his thoughts.
     "Who made you a vampire, LaCroix?"
     LaCroix, startled, stopped playing his rebec.  He turned
his cold eyes on Nick and smiled.  The flames from the fire
shone brilliantly off his platinum blonde hair.  "Why do you
want to know, Nicholas?"
     Nick looked down, as always unsure of whether LaCroix's
amusement would turn cruel in the end.  But he pressed
forward with his query.  "I just wondered.  But if you don't
want to talk about it--"  Why was he never sure of where he
stood with LaCroix?
     LaCroix put down the rebec and stood.  He placed an arm
on the mantel and pursed his lips.  "I suppose I could tell
you.  He was your grandfather, so to speak."  The thought
amused him into an open laugh.  "Just as you are my son,
Nicholas."  He laughed again. "An amusing concept, no?"
     Nick did not reply.  He frowned, remembering the night
that LaCroix had taken his very soul as well as his life's
blood--had seduced him into forsaking his humanity for the
promise of immortality.  Nick had not understood him then and
had understood little more in the intervening years they had
spent together.
     LaCroix became serious.  He drew very close to Nick.
     "You look disturbed, Nicholas.  Does it distress you to
know that there is someone on this earth more evil than I?"
 
                       *******
 
     Nick came back to reality.  He staggered out to the
refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of blood.  He poured a
glass, his hand shaking slightly.  This vampire case was
becoming more ugly by the minute.  Ugly indeed.  Janette
needed to know of the new development.
     He called her.  Her voice sounded sleepy, which was
expected as they spent most of their daylight hours in that
fashion.  When she heard his news, she became more alert and
serious.  She assured him that she would inform the rest of
the Raven's "patrons" and they would begin assisting him in
the search for the renegade.  "After all," she said, "a
vampire scare would definitely be bad for business."
     Despite the seriousness of the situation, Nick had to
smile.  "Yeah," he said.  "Keep me posted on any developments
at your end."
     "I will," she said.  "And Nick, about last night--well,
don't let anything I said keep you away, all right?"
     Nick smiled wryly.  "I'm--the one who should be
apologizing--not you.  But I'm glad to know we're still--
friends."
     "Forever, Nicolah."  He listened as she yawned.  "But
right now, I'm going back to sleep.  Goodnight, Nicky."
     "Goodnight, Janette."  He hung up the phone.  Then he
drained his glass of blood and sat on the couch to think.
     The rest of the day seemed to drag by.  Nick felt between
the Devil and a hard place--his job had been causing stress,
but his forced vacation seemed to be causing _more_ stress,
if that was possible.  It was probably because of the murders
and Schanke getting him pulled off the murder case.  Natalie
could help, but she _was_ only the coroner.  She might not be
privy to all the developments in the police investigation.
And Nick couldn't seem to get his own thoughts focused on the
problem of finding the murderer before the police did.
     Perhaps the distraction of Natalie and her movie would
help.  Would clear his mind so he could find the renegade
vampire.
     Nick knocked on Natalie's door promptly at nine.  When
she opened it, he smiled.  Whatever he had expected was
dispelled by her appearance.  Natalie was clad in a sweat-
suit, an apple in her hand.  Certainly she was not dressed
seductively.  But then why had he thought she would be?  She
smiled broadly and moved aside for him to enter.
     Nick held out the two bottles of wine he'd brought--one
regular, one his special blend.  She took them, but glanced
sideways at him when she noticed his own stock.  "I thought
your vacation was going to be a test of my theory."
     Nick closed the door and walked to the window.  "I'm
not on vacation.  Besides it's--not so easy, Natalie.  You
know that."
     "It's the blood that keeps you from coming over, Nick."
     "I don't need a lecture!" he heard himself shout.  He
looked at her.  "I'm--sorry, Nat.  I've tried, am--trying,"
he lied.  The truth was, he felt shakier about his addiction
than ever.  But he knew better than to tell her that.
     Natalie studied him for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry.
It must be hard for you right now.  Have you found any leads
to the--murderer yet?"
     "No.  Maybe I _am_ too close to the case.  What about
you?  Have you heard anything new?"
     "No.  Schanke hasn't got any leads as far as I know."
     "Hmm," he said.  "So what's on the show tonight?"
     "Dracula.  1931, with Bela Lugosi."
     Nick groaned with what he hoped sounded like normal humor
as Natalie went into the kitchen.  "Oh, please, Nat!"  She
emerged with a bowl of popcorn.  "Why do you want to watch
that?  When you've got me?"  He smiled.
     She sat on the couch and grinned at him.  "I just want
to compare notes."
     He sighed and sat in the chair next to her.  "You're
awful, Nat!" he said, almost lightheartedly.  Natalie turned
down the lights and started the video.
     Nick watched Dracula with a halfhearted interest.  What
did movies really know about vampires?  Some of the old
legends were true, of course, but nothing in this film
conveyed the horror of his existence.  Bela Lugosi did not
even use fangs.  But he _did_ convey an appropriate reaction\
attraction to his victims; Nick found himself studying the
woman he attacked intently.  The black and white starkness of
the film focused her body with clarity--too much clarity.
He knew Natalie would find it distasteful, but he went to the
refrigerator for his bottle, glad that he had brought it.  He
felt her eyes on him as he opened it and poured a glass.  He
took special care to sip slowly.  But what he really wanted
to do was toss it off and have another.
     Nick felt tenser by the second and was glad when the movie
was over.  Natalie turned up the lights again and with feigned
lightheartedness he asked, "Well?  Any insights, Doc?"
     Natalie frowned at him.  "What's wrong, Nick?"
     He got up and paced to the window.  "Nothing's wrong, Nat.
Why?"
     She came to stand beside him.  "You seem--wound up, tense.
Is it the case?  Or--the movie?"
     "That piece of drivel?  It's as far from a _real_ vampire's
existence as it can be."  He raised his glass to his lips, only
to find it empty.  Natalie's hand touched his forehead--as if
to feel his temperature.  He could hear her heart beating and
felt his own trying to synchronize with it.  He stepped back
from her.
     Too quickly, it seemed, because Natalie only frowned
deeper and reached for him again.  "Don't Nat," he said, step-
ping further away from her.  He needed a drink and walked to
the kitchen for one, forgetting for the moment that he had
left his bottle on the coffee table.  He could still hear
Natalie's heart pounding, faster now.  He closed his eyes, his
glass forgotten on the counter.  How he had missed that sound,
that thrill of fear in the heart of a victim.  Somehow he had
to block out that sound--that seductive sound.
     There was a touch on his arm.  Nick whirled around to see
Natalie had followed him.  An uncertain fear was in her eyes,
but also concern.  She came closer and put her arms around his
waist, laid her head on his chest.  Her scent was in his
nostrils.  And he was powerless to stop her.
     What was she thinking?  Didn't she realize the danger?
Nick felt his arms go around her and tighten.  He heard her
heartbeat change and felt what he had suspected all along--
that she wanted him, that she loved him.  It was something he
felt for her too.  But it must not be!  He felt his mouth
opening, the fangs extending.  No!   What had happened before
must not happen again!
     Somehow he found the strength to push her away.  Fear
leaped into her eyes and heart as she looked at him; he knew
his eyes were yellow and his fangs extended.  He had not ached
for someone as he did now for Natalie in a long time; his body
trembled with it.  He had to leave--now--before it was too
late.  Pushing her aside, Nick leaped for the window.  The
glass shattered and he rose into the night and away.
 
                        *******
 
     Nick was exhausted when he touched ground in the park, his
thoughts heavy.  He avoided people and wandered silently alone.
The park was almost deserted and he was glad of it.  What was
wrong with him?  He hadn't felt so close to the edge--really
close to the edge--in a long time.
     He didn't know how long he had been wandering when his
acute hearing picked up the sound of a woman's scream.  He
looked around him, trying to pierce the surrounding darkness
with his night vision, seeking the source of the sound.  A
more muffled, weaker scream followed the first and he picked
up on the direction.
     He rose into the night sky and sped off in the direction
of the sound.  A clearing appeared in some trees and he saw them.
A man, tall and dark, had a woman in a close embrace, his head
to her throat.
     Nick called on all his vampire powers as he dropped into
the clearing.  Baring his fangs, he growled and leaped for the
other vampire.
     The stranger raised his head.  Blood dripped from his lips
and his fangs were still bared.  Seeing Nick, he let his prey
drop to the ground and, with a growl, stood upright.  Nick had
only the briefest of moments to study the face of his adversary
before the back of the man's hand connected with his jaw.
     Nick was thrown backward so forcefully and so quickly he
didn't have time to adjust his flight.  He landed head first
into a large tree trunk.  The world spun out of control and,
although he tried to fight it, he lost consciousness.
 
     Nick came around a few minutes later with a big headache.
The clearing was empty save for the dead woman.  He knew she was
dead; no sound of heartbeat came from her.  Rubbing the pieces
of bark out of the back of his head, he struggled up.
     Nick remembered that there was a public phone not far away
and walked through the trees to find it.  He wasn't sure whether
to trust his equilibrium by flying.  He dialed the station and
waited on the path until the uniforms--and Schanke--arrived.
He led them to the clearing.
     Schanke bent down to examine the body.  The woman was
young and pretty and looked to be dressed for a night on the
town.  "So what happened, Nick?"
     "I was walking in the park and heard her scream.  But by
the time I got here, she was already dead."
     "Did you see anybody else?"
     Nick thought about the other vampire.  His face was etched
in his mind.  But he said, "No.  I'm afraid not, Schanke."
     Schanke sighed.  "Looks like we've definitely got a
serial killer h{re.  One with a real lust for blood."
     Lust for blood.  He remembered when he had felt that way.
Long ago.  Or not so long ago.  But he said, "Yeah, looks
that way.  You got any leads?"
     "None.  And it's a real headache."  Nick rubbed the back
of his head--which still hurt--briefly as Schanke started to
make an examination of the crime scene.  "Hello, what's this?"
He bent down and picked up something with his hanky.
     "What is it?" asked Nick, drawing close to see.
     "A tie tac," he said.  "Apparently our guy's a snazzy
dresser."
     "Let me see."
     "Huh-uh.  You're on--" Schanke paused, his face
reddening "--vacation, remember?"  But Nick still got a
good glimpse of the faceted red gem as Schanke slipped it
into a clear evidence bag.  "At least now I've got something
to work with."  He left the uniforms and the ambulance
attendants to clear up the crime scene and walked back out
to the better lighted path.  He look at Nick.  "By the way,
do you often go for midnight strolls in the park."
     "Sometimes.  Why?"
     Schanke made a face and tried some of his humorous
repartee.  "Oh, I would have expected you to be down at the
Raven--on the make."
     Nick smiled, then winced as his head experienced a
shooting pain.  Schanke's smile faded.  "What's wrong?"
     "Nothing.  I'm just--a bit hungover," he lied.  The
pain had subsided back into a steady ache again.
     Schanke smirked.  "I knew it.  Too much wine, women,
and song."
     "Schanke, do you ever get your mind out of the gutter?"
He tried to manage a smile.
     Schanke's only answer was a shrug.  "I got to get back
to headquarters."  He hesitated.  "Need a lift home?"
     Nick became serioous again.  He was still irritated
that Schanke had had him pulled off the case.  "No," he said.
     Schanke looked at him with a hesitant smile, apparently
aware of Nick's irritation.  "Well, don't party too hearty,
buddy," he said, a bit sadly, Nick thought.  Then he turned
and left.
     Nick sighed.  He felt weak and--ineffective.  Not just
with the case, but with his inability to control his
reactions to others.  He had missed following up on Schanke's
olive branch when if he had pressed himself he might have
learned something useful from the man.
     The unknown vampire had been powerful.  But then he
had just made a fresh kill.  But Nick was still disappointed
in himself.  He should have been able to stop him.  His
abilities were usually there when he needed them--
regardless of how he felt.  But tonight they had seemed to
desert him, along with his rational thought.
     Aching and discouraged, Nick did not even try to fly
home.  By the time he finally got there, he was famished.
But the animal fluid in his refrigerator was only pale
comfort.  He thought of Natalie and the temptation she had
offered.  Then, exhausted, he climbed upstairs and fell
into bed, clothes and all.  Soon he fell into a deep and
welcome sleep.
     A sleep so deep he didn't even dream.  When he woke
some hours later, his thoughts were grim.  And primarily
of Natalie.  Could he no longer trust himself around her?
She was his first hope of salvation; her doctor's skill
and mind could someday free him from his vampirism.  But
not if he killed her.  Much as he loathed the idea, perhaps
it was time to find another home.  After he found the
renegade vampire.
     He went downstairs, surprised to see two messages on
his answering machine.  He hadn't even heard the phone.
One was from Janette (asking about the murders) and the
other was from Natalie (apologetic and concerned about last
night).  As he listened to their voices, Nick felt even
closer to the edge.
     But why?  Nick had killed no one in a hundred years--
had not even consumed (except for the rare instance here
and there) human blood in the past fifty.  He had even
prided himself on his control.  So why did he feel like he
was starving to death?
     Nick drained a bottle in the refrigerator, but still
felt the same.  Dissatisfied and tired.  He laid down on
the couch and fell asleep again.
 
                          *******
 
     LaCroix was back at the fireplace.  "I was part of a
cult then.  We worshipped Satan," he said.  He looked at
Nick.  "That is why I found you so intriguing, Nicholas.
The pure Knight of the Crusades.  To corrupt one such as
you was a true prize."  He smiled.
     "Where is this cult?" asked Nick.
     LaCroix became serious.  "We were discovered, driven
out of our land, scattered to the four winds."  Nick waited.
"For a long time I wandered the world alone.  Until I
found Janette--and then you."
     "And your creator?  What happened to him?"
     "The last I saw of Jacques DuPrey, he was fleeing a
burning tower.  But what does it matter, Nicholas?  You
have _me_; that is all that counts."  He smiled.  Then he
looked again into the fire.  "But those were good times.
Men and women dancing naked around the bonfire..."  His
voice trailed off.
     Nick looked into the flames and could almost see
figures leaping in them.  Then the scene changed and he
saw Natalie, nude, swaying seductively, the flames leaping
up behind her.  He felt drawn by her dark eyes, her white
throat--  Her heart beat louder and louder.
 
                         *******
 
     A hand was on his brow.  Instantly Nick came awake and
grabbed the wrist of the intruder--Natalie.  He cursed his
foolhardiness in giving her the code to his electronic
elevator door.  Growling, he bared his fangs at her, saw
her try to recoil, and fell back exhausted.  "Get out," he
groaned.  "I don't want you here."  Could his encounter
with the other vampire really have left him feeling so weak?
     Natalie extricated her wrist from his grip.  "I want
to help, Nick."
     "Go away."
     "Nick, I'm a doctor.  If something's wrong with you--"
     "I am a vampire!"
     "Do you need--more blood, Nick--"
     Nick suppressed the vampire in himself and said,
surprisingly sure, "It doesn't help."
     "Doesn't help!  But why?  Nick, what's wrong?"
     But Nick could no longer answer her.  The room wavered
around him and he could not focus his eyes or form the
words to convey the panic he felt.  All he could do was
listen to her heart and try to match its rhythm with his
own until he slipped into forbidding darkness.
 
                      *******
 
     "Here, let me see," came a voice into Nick's
consciousness.  He opened his eyes to see Janette on the
couch beside him, her hand under his head and a glass to
his lips.  The smell of blood--human blood--filled his
nostrils.  He opened his mouth slightly and she poured it
in.  The blood revived him some, enough so that he could
focus on Natalie standing at his feet, watching him
anxiously.  Janette smiled.  "How's that?  Better?" asked
Janette.
     Nick struggled to sit up and took the glass.  He
drained what was left in it in one gulp.  "What are you
doing here, Janette?"  His head was swimming.
     "Natalie called me.  She said you seemed--ill."
     "Well...thanks for your concern."  His voice sounded
weak even to his own ears.  But the blood--he needed the
blood.
     Nick grabbed for the bottle in Janette's hand, not
caring how desperate he looked to the two women.  He poured
another glass of blood and tossed it off, then poured
another.  He had almost forgotten how good human blood
tasted.  His thoughts went to the intimate moments he had
shared with Janette two nights ago.  Was it that taste of
human blood in her veins that made him want more so badly
now?  He tried to drink the third glass more slowly, so
its grip would not devour him.  But something was still
missing.
     "Nicola, I've been talking to friends of _ours_,"
Janette said.  She stared at Nick.
     "You can speak in front of Natalie."  His voice
sounded stronger, so maybe everything would be all right.
     "Are you sure?"
     "I'm sure."
     Janette looked doubtful, but proceeded anyway.  "I
know you usually drink animal blood.  When was the last
time you had--human blood?"  Nick saw Natalie cringe.  He
lifted his glass to his lips.
     "I think you know when, Janette," he said pointedly,
raising an eyebrow.
     Janette glanced at the glass, then back at him.  "I
mean--_before_."
     He thought.  "Mmm.  About fifty years.  Since I
regularly drank."
     Janette's eyes widened.  "Really!" she said.  Then
she added, "I'm not surprised.  You always were--rather
reluctant.  But Nick, you are a vampire.  You cannot deny
your needs for so long without it having _some_ effect."
     "His needs?  Blood is blood," said Natalie.
     "He can _survive_ on animal blood, but not _thrive_
on it.  There is--an added thrill to the kill, isn't there,
Nicola?"
     Nick could see alarm flash on Natalie's face.  Then
it was gone, replaced by a hard expression.  "Which you
would know, no doubt," she said.
     "What is that supposed to mean?"
     "Well, that girl was found murdered outside _your_
club."
     "I had nothing to do with that."  Natalie did not look
convinced.  She had no reason to trust Janette; she did not
know Janette as he did.  He knew Janette no longer killed
either, or at least not in so clumsy a fashion as to leave
 
the evidence just lying about.  Times had changed practices.
     Nick stood up and the room spun a little.  "I don't
need that any more, Janette," he said.  But as he said it,
he felt it was a lie.  But could his lack of _killing_, of
_consuming_, humans really be the cause of all his recent
restlessness and dissatisfaction?  "I haven't killed anyone
in a hundred years."
     "That is your problem," said Janette.  He frowned.
     "No!  I won't accept that!  If Nick has lived for a
hundred years without killing, then he doesn't need to kill
now!"
     Janette rose and glared at Natalie.  Then she looked at
Nick.  "Why don't you come home with me, Nicola, and let me
give you what you need?"
     Natalie opened her mouth in shock.  "No, don't listen
to her, Nick," she said.
     Janette came closer to him and ran her fingers up his
arm.  "You know you are welcome, Nicola."  Her heart was
pounding faster and he could feel his own heart striving to
join hers.  He felt himself sway slightly.  It would be so
good to go with Janette.
     Natalie stepped between him and Janette, pushing her
away.  "If he needs help, _I'll_ help him," she said.  Nick
strained to separate the confusion of two hearts beating for
him.
     Janette crossed her arms and smiled broadly.  "_You'll_
help him?  You haven't helped him so far."  Fortunately she
had forgotten the contact she had been making with Nick as
she focused on Natalie.  As _he_ focused on Natalie.
     "This--problem--never came up before.  But I can find
an answer to it," said Natalie.
     "And what if you can't give him what he needs?  Would
you let him die?"
     Nick could feel Natalie's distress, hear it in her
heartbeat.  "I could never do that," she said quietly.
     Janette opened her mouth to say something, but Nick
interrupted her, his head finally clearing enough to think
straight.  "No, Janette.  Don't argue.  I have to give
Natalie a chance to help."  He hoped he wasn't making a
mistake.
     Janette's mouth closed into a hard line.  Then she
softened.  "Very well, Nicola.  You know where to find me."
She pulled on a heavy, hooded dark cloak.  "I'll leave
this," she said of the bottle she had brought.  She put on
dark sunglasses.  Then she left.
     Nick still was feeling unsteady so he sat again, pouring
himself another glass of blood from Janette's bottle.
Fortunately the blood was having the effect of stifling his
desire for Natalie, even if it was not being completely
satisfying.  Natalie took a seat in the chair next to him.
"Is what she says true, Nick?" she asked.
     Nick looked into her anxious dark eyes.  "I don't know,"
he said.  "Maybe."
     Natalie looked down.  "I can try to get you some--stores
of human blood.  If it would help."
     Nick put down the glass.  He took her hands and she
looked at him.  "No.  You mustn't do that."
     "I--I don't want you to suffer, Nick."  She looked at
his hands, then back to his face.  "Last night, I knew some-
thing was wrong.  I wanted to help.  But you--wanted to
attack me, didn't you?"
     The memory of his actions worried Nick anew.  He let go
of her hands.  He picked up his glass and walked to the
fireplace, not trusting himself to meet her eyes.  "Yes," he
said.  "Maybe I should just leave here, go somewhere else."
     "No!" said Natalie.  He heard her rise.
     "Maybe I'm doomed to forever be a beast, Natalie.  Maybe
we've just been fooling ourselves, thinking it could be
otherwise."
     "No, I won't believe that, Nick.  Perhaps I can isolate
what quality in human blood is necessary for your existence--"
     "And do _what_--_synthesize_ it?!"  He knew he was
shouting and hurting her, but he didn't care.  He looked at
her.  "Would I find the synthesized element satisfying, do
you think?"
     "It's worth a try, Nick."
     "Can you synthesize _fear_, Nat?  Because that's what
the beast craves--_fear_!"  Angry, he tossed the glass into
the fireplace, its shatter startling Natalie.  The fear he
felt in her heart was almost an aphrodisiac, if Janette was
to be believed.  It was the added something missing even from
the human blood she'd brought.  It was what that vampire in
the alley had wanted from his victim.
 
     He could see Natalie striving for control.  Her heart
quieted some.  "What makes you think it's fear you need?|
     "What else could it be?  I'm still missing something.
What Janette brought me is still not enough!"
     "I can't believe you live on fear.  You're too good,
Nick," said Natalie.
     Nick collapsed on the couch again, suddenly tired of it
all.  He closed his eyes briefly and sighed.  "There was a
time when they _did_ fear me.  When I _liked_ them to fear me."
     "That was the past, Nick," said Natalie.  "You're beyond
that now."  He looked at her.
     "Am I, Nat?  Am I?  If Janette hadn't come, what would
you have done to save me?"  Natalie didn't reply.  "But what
she brought me was only a taste of what I need.  I feel...
empty.  I need to feel...fulfilled."  He bowed his head.
     Natalie hesitated, wringing her hands.  Then she sat
down on the couch next to Nick.  "I'm here, Nick," she said.
Her heart beat wildly.
     Nick closed his eyes and shook his head.  "No," he said.
Then he opened his eyes and grasped her arms.  "How do you
think I'd feel if I harmed you, Natalie?  I care about you."
     "I love you, Nick," she said breathlessly.  Her heart
beat with such insistent invitation that he found it difficult
to say,
     "Don't say that.  I can't be close to you--that way."
     "And you can't tell me there's never been anyone else who
hasn't known what you are and still loved you."
     Natalie was, of course, right.  The images of women who
had loved him over the years flashed through his forever
memory.  Most he had left before they could be harmed by the
beast within him, but there had been two who...  He pushed
those thoughts aside, the grief of his separation from Anna
and Lizette acute.  His weakened condition was making him
entirely too sensitive.  He had to be firm and made himself
say, "I can't.  Please, Natalie."
     "Did they fear you?"
     "No," he admitted.
     "Did you make them vampires?"
     Nick pushed her away and got up.  The way was clear now.
"Yes," he said, hating himself for the lie and hoping Natalie
would hate him as well.  He looked away from her and into the
fireplace, awaiting her revulsion.
     He heard her rise and come near him.  "Did you like it?"
she asked.  Nick frowned, pained.
     "Nat--"
     "What did it feel like?  What did it _feel_ like, Nick?"
Nick looked at her.  Natalie was looking at him intently,
expectantly.  "Was it as good as fear?  Or better?"  She seemed
to have forgotten her own feelings and become the scientist
again.  But Nick felt too raw to answer.  "Answer me!"
 
                      *******
 
     Nick was cast back into his memories.  Anna's chambermaid
was in his arms, her heart weakening as he drained her blood.
He let the dead woman drop from his grasp.  Then he turned and
saw--Anna.
     Nick expected fear and revulsion, but Anna only watched
numbly.  She must be in shock, he thought.  And I have lost her
forever.  He turned to flee.
     "No, do not go," she said.  Nick halted and watched dumb-
founded as she approached.  "What are you?"
     "I am--a vampire.  I must leave now."
     "Why?"
     "I--do not want to hurt you.  I should never have--never
have--"
     "But I love you," said Anna.
     Nick's heart leaped.  "After what you have seen?"
     "I will always love you, Nicholas.  Please--do not leave me."
     "Anna, I--"  She moved closer and embraced him.
     "I love you.  Nothing else matters."  Her heart was strong,
the love in it singing until his heart was singing too.  When
she lifted her face to be kissed, Nick did not hesitate.  And
when his lips fastened on her throat, there was a bliss and a
satisfaction such as he had never known.
     But the bliss was too seductive.  Before he knew it, Anna
lay dead in his arms, gone from him forever.
 
                            *******
 
     "Anna," he said, not aware that he had spoken aloud.
     "Who's Anna?" asked Natalie.  Nick focused his mind back
on the present.
     "Someone I loved.  Long ago."
     "Was she afraid?"
     "No."
     "Is she a vampire?"  He looked away from her.
     "She was--she's gone now."  His grief at the memory of
Anna's demise was apparent even to Natalie. Her voice softened.
     "I'm sorry, Nick.  But I have to ask--was it satisfying
to take her?"
     Nick was angered at first until he realized Natalie was
being scientific.  "More satisfying that I ever would have
thought possible.  For whatever good it does you to know that."
     "It does a lot of good.  It proves fear is not the answer."
     He raised his eyebrows.  "Then what is?"
     "Hormones."  Nick was confused and must have looked it be-
cause Natalie continued, "I know you're confused, Nick, but
trust me.  I may be able to help."  She hesitated, then said,
"Nick, do you feel--any better?  I mean, do you need any more
human blood or do you think you'll be okay for a while?"
     Nick sat on the couch again.  His head was clearer and he
was not as tired.  But he didn't know how long it would last.
He smiled nevertheless.  "I'll be all right.  For a while.
And--I've got Janette's bottle if I need a boost."
     "Good.  I don't think I'll be too long, but I have to go
to the lab."  She smiled at him and soon was gone.  Nick was
not sorry to see her go; the nearness of her was no longer a
distraction.  Tired, he closed his eyes.
 
                          *******
 
     Night had fallen and he was hungry.  The hunting the last
two nights had been mostly good, except for his encounter with
the blonde vampire in the park.  That interruption had
interfered with his pleasure.  So that tonight his appetite
craved something deeper.
     He looked around the warehouse district he found himself in.
What he needed was a suitable location.  He took to the air.
     After a brief time, the stranger saw below him what he
wanted--a warehouse that looked deserted.  He flew down to it,
touching ground lightly.  A FOR SALE sign and number were on
the door of the building.  He listened for guards, but heard
nothing but the wind.  He moved closer and peered into a window.
Except for a few boxes, the warehouse was almost empty.
     He examined the edges of the window, seeing wiring that
indicated a burglar alarm system.  After some searching, he
found the control box.  He opened it and pulled out the
activation wiring.
     Then he smiled.  Now he was ready.  He flew back up into
the sky.
     A few blocks further on, he saw his quarry.  A woman,
dressed in a suit, was leaving what appeared to be a warehouse
office.  She was alone.
     The stranger swooped down.  The woman looked up in alarm
and started to run.  But he caught her easily, rising lightly
again into the air.
     The woman tried to scream, but he covered her mouth with
one hand.  "Not yet, my darling," he said.  "Not yet.  There
will be plenty of time for such--fun--later."  She struggled,
then went limp in his arms, having fainted from her fear.
     The man in black frowned.  He hoped he hadn't made a mis-
take.  He wanted his evening to be a veritable feast of fear.
     He turned his flight back to the warehouse he had prepared.
 
                           *******
 
     Nick woke to the sound of his phone ringing.  The clock
indicated that night had fallen.  He suppressed the strain and
emptiness he felt to say, "Yeah, who is it?"
     "It's me, Schanke," came his partner's voice.  Nick looked
at the bottle in front of him.  He switched the phone over to
speaker mode.  "Nick?"
     Nick hesitated before saying, "Schanke.  What can I do
for you."  He lifted his bottle to his lips and took a drink.
     "I need your help on the serial murder case."
     "I can't help you.  Stonetree's orders.  I'm on _vacation_,
remember?"
     "Yeah, Nick.  I'm--sorry about that, okay?"  There was a
brief silence before he continued.  "I really need your help."
     Nick decided to make Schanke sweat a little.  "Why
should I help you?  Give me a reason."
     "Okay, so I know I shouldn't expect your help.  If you
won't do it for me, at least do it for Janette."
     Nick was silent for a moment.  Then he said, "Okay,
Schanke.  For _Janette_, not you."  He silently thanked the
powers that be for the opportunity to make it up with his
partner.  Maybe Schanke would get access to information Nick
could use to track down the killer.
     Schanke heaved a sigh.  "Hey, thanks buddy.  I won't
forget this."
     Nick put down his bottle.  "What do you want me to do,
Schanke?"
     "I'm bein' stonewalled at the Raven, Nick.  Maybe they'll
talk to you.  _Someone_ has to have seen something."  Nick
sighed.  Schanke must have really been getting nowhere on the
case.
     "Okay, I'll talk to them again.  See what I can turn up."
     "Great!  So should I come pick you up?"
     Nick considered.  Natalie had left--two hours ago?  Had
she finished what she had set out to do or was she still at
the lab?  Better find out first.  "No.  No.  It wouldn't look
good if someone from the station saw us together.  We don't
need trouble with Stonetree."
     "Yeah, you're right.  So what do you want me to do?"
     "Hang loose.  I'll call you if I find out anything."
     "Okay.  I'll be waiting.  And Nick--"  He paused.  "I
_do_ appreciate this."
     "Later," Nick replied.  He listened as Schanke hung up
the phone and smiled.  Nick had hardly switched off the phone
when he heard his elevator door opening.
     Natalie was back.  She seemed excited as she took a
hypodermic needle from her bag.
     "What's that?" asked Nick.
     "Hopefully the answer.  Roll up your sleeve, Nick."
Nick frowned wryly but did as she asked.
     "What are you giving me?"
     "Hormones."  He looked at her, puzzled.  "There are
certain substances produced by a person in love that circulate
through the bloodstream.  It's technical, but if you want an
explanation--"
     "No, no," Nick laughed.  Then suddenly he felt a rush
and blinked.  He felt a thrill almost like passion to the
depths of his being.  He took a deep, shuddering breath.
 
 
     "What's the matter?" asked Natalie, a worried look on her
face.
     Nick hesitated, then said, "Nothing.  But--" and he took a
second deep breath  "--whatever was in that shot, Nat, was
pretty...arousing."  The sensation was fading, but still felt
quite pleasant.  The tenseness and emptiness and dissatisfaction
he had been feeling were gone.  "What was in that shot, Nat?"
     "How do you feel?"  Nick got up.  He felt alive--energized.
     "Wonderful!  I--can't explain it except to say my--need is
gone."  Not only gone--it was almost no more than a dim memory.
     "Then it worked."
     "What worked?"
     "Hormones," she said.  Nick watched as Natalie's face
turned a deep scarlet.  Then she pulled herself together and
became the scientist again.  She got out another hypodermic.
     "I'll need a sample of your blood for analysis."  Nick
stood mutely while she took her sample.  "Do you still feel
the need to have--human blood?"
     Nick looked at Janette's bottle, remembering the taste of
its contents.  But the human blood had been no more satisfying
than animal blood.  Only Natalie's "hormones" had preserved his
sanity.  For a time, at least, he knew the animal blood was
enough.  And, with Natalie's help, maybe one day he wouldn't
need that either.  "No.  I can do without it."
     "Good.  This could be a real breakthrough, Nick."
     "To my coming over?"  She nodded.  He took her hands.
"Then I'll have you to thank," he said, smiling into her eyes--
those large, appealing dark eyes.  Natalie moved closer, expec-
tantly.  He could feel her heart pounding, his own trying to
match it, and realized it was still too soon.  She was too much
of a temptation still.
     So, sighing, Nick let her go and moved back.  "I have to
go," he said.
     "Go?  Go where?"
     "Schanke called.  He's getting nowhere on the case."
     "But--isn't that good?"
     "Yeah, I suppose.  I can't let the police solve these
murders.  But _I_ have to solve them, Nat."
     "Schanke mentioned you found the body in the park."
     "I did more than find the body.  I almost caught the
culprit."
     "You did!  What happened?"
     "He backhanded me into a tree.  Gave me one hell of a
headache."
     "Headache!  Is that why--"
     "No, it had nothing to do with my--illness.  I was feeling
bad long before that."  He smiled.  "But I'm better now.  And
now that I know what he looks like, maybe I'll be able to find
him and stop him."  He put on his leather jacket and opened
the window.
     "Be careful, Nick," said Natalie.  Her dark eyes looked
worried.
     "Don't worry, Nat," said Nick.  Then he rose out of the
window and into the night.
     The cool air was exhilerating and he almost hated to
arrive so soon afterwards at the Raven.  The club was busy,
although he noticed several stares from the vampires he
recognized as he made his way through the crowd.
     Janette was behind the bar and smiled when she saw him.
"Nicola!  You look wonderful!"
     "I feel wonderful."
     "So...your doctor friend was able to help?  Perhaps in a
direct way, hmm?"  She studied him expectantly.
     "Sorry to disappoint you," he said.  "I didn't drink her
blood."
     Janette looked down.  "Too bad."  Then she looked back at
him.  "So, she pulled off some 'medical miracle,' did she?"
     "Something like that."
     "I hope you know what you're doing.  Speaking of which,
waht are you doing here?"
     "Schanke called.  Says he's been stonewalled here."
     "What did you expect?"
     "Oh, I'm in agreement.  But he asked me to help."
     "What do you mean--help?"  Janette looked dismayed.
     Nick smiled.  "Don't get excited.  The police won't be
involved."  He became serious again.  "But I have to see that
whoever did these murders pays for them."  Janette looked
down again.  "What have you been able to find out?"  Glancing
around, she pulled him into the back room.
     "Not much.  No one here is admitting responsibility."
     "That's because no one here _is_ responsible."  Briefly he
related his encounter with the strange vampire in the park.
     "So it is a renegade," said Janette.  "We had considered
it, but with only the two murders, we weren't sure that it
might not be a problem here.  But another open murder--no one
here would have taken such a risk."
     "We've got to find him, Janette.  Before the police do."
     Janette looked thoughtful.  "I'll put out some eyes and
ears.  With your description, they'll know what to look for.
You can count on our help."
     "I appreciate that.  I may need it."  He looked around.
"I've got to go out and search now."
     "Be careful, Nicola."
     He smiled.  "I will."  Then he let himself out the back
door and was gone.
     Nick rose again into the night.  He couldn't explain why,
but he felt an aerial surveillance would be profitable.
Fortunately the night was cloudy so he wasn't concerned about
being seen.  He took care not to get too close to any well
lighted areas, however.  While he flew, he opened his hearing
to its fullest potential.  Perhaps he could pick up on the
renegade's next attack and with any luck it would be his
_last_ one.
     Nick turned his flight to the darker, unoccupied warehouse
district.  Despite the renegade's open disregard for possible
discovery and pursuit, Nick reasoned that the man would still
seek a quiet resting place.  He seemed to thrive on the fear
of his victims, which might work against him.  Especially if
the vampire decided to _prolong_ the experience.
     Nick flew on, sensing nothing out of the ordinary.  Maybe
his hunch was wrong.  Maybe he should just return to the Raven--
wait for Janette's companions to run the renegade to ground.
     Then his ears picked up a sound.  "Please--let me go,"
came a woman's voice.  The fear in it was markedly apparent.
Nick strained his hearing to its limits.  He heard the vampire
growl and the woman scream in terror.  The sound seemed to be
coming from a warehouse below.
     Nick sped down.  A skylight in the roof was no impediment
to his flight.  He'd probably given up any element of surprise.
but his only thought was to save the mortal--before she became
the renegade's fourth victim.
     He dropped to the floor lightly.  The warehouse was mostly
dark and almost empty; there were only a few crates at one end
 
of the large room.  A lone (bare bulb) light shone dimly there.
     Nick approached the lighted area warily.  He could hear
the mortal woman's fear engulfed heart and some muffled sounds
from her.  She was still alive.  When he got close enough, he
saw her.  She was tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth.  Nick
rushed over to her, looking around as he did but seeing nothing
else.  Had the renegade flown?
     Nick turned his thoughts to the woman, untying her and
removing the gag from her mouth.  She was crying.  "Are you
all right?" he asked.  Anxiously he looked at her throat; it
was smooth and unblemished.  Apparently the renegade hadn\t
felt enough fear from her yet.  "Look, my name's Knight.
Metro Police."
     "Metro Police!" exclaimed a man's voice.  Nick turned
away from the woman and straightened up.  The vampire from
 
the park stood before him.  He looked Nick up and down.
     Nick put his hand on the woman's shoulder.  Not daring
to take his eyes off the renegade, he said, "Do you remember
how to get out of here?"
     "I--I think so," she said.
     "Then go.  Now."  The stranger growled, baring his fangs.
The woman jumped up from the chair and ran.  Nick leaped at
the renegade, hoping he was strong enough to buy her the time
she needed to get away.
     The other vampire caught Nick by his jacket and tossed
him aside like a discarded apple core.  Nick hit the floor
heavily and for a moment lay stunned.
     But the renegade didn't flee or pursue the woman.
Instead he stood and looked at Nick.  "Vampire policemen.
What is the world coming to?"
     Nick got to his feet, prepared to do further battle.
The renegade stood easily, unafraid.  Nick wished he had had
time to contact the vampires at the Raven.  He could sense
this vampire was powerful--and something else.  He frowned.
     The vampire spoke.  "Do we--know each other?"
     "No," said Nick.  But even as he said it, it sounded
wrong.
     The stranger studied him.  "You are--yes, you are one of
LaCroix's."
     Nick was surprised.  "How did you know that?"
     "A vampire always knows his children--no matter how far
the blood ties are removed from him."
     Suddenly Nick understood.  He looked at the man before
him more closely.  "Jacques DuPrey."
     The vampire bowed, his dark eyes, however, never leaving
Nick.  "How is LaCroix?"
     "He's dead," said Nick, not without some satisfaction.
Nick had finally come to terms with LaCroix's evil when he
had found Nick again in Toronto.  He had paid LaCroix back
for the murders of his loves with the stake and with fire.
     DuPrey sighed.  "Too bad.  We shared some interesting
times."  Then his face hardened.  "But you--you would oppose
me?"
     I must.  Surely you understand the danger you're present-
ing to the other vampires here."
     "You mean the cult in the Raven?  What are they to me?
I am the avenging angel of Satan--my mission to send as many
mortal souls to his domain as possible."
     "The cult you belonged to is finished," said Nick.  At
least he hoped so.
     "But its purpose has not.  We are vampires.  It is our
sacred duty."
     "It's not my duty."
     "So I see," said DuPrey, his expression dark.  "Then you
are my enemy."  His eyes turned yellow again and he bared his
fangs, growling.
     Then suddenly DuPrey was upon Nick, moving so quickly
that he seemed a blur.  Nick called on all his vampire
abilities to ward off the attack.  That DuPrey was a more
powerful vampire than him was readily apparent.  The other
man fastened his hands on Nick's throat and tightened his grip.
 
     Nick couldn't breathe.  Desperately, he tried to fly up
into the air to get away.  DuPrey came with him, never loosening
his grip on Nick's throat.  Nick dived for the floor, where they
hit and rolled.
     But DuPrey maintained his grip.  The room started to spin
around in Nick's vision and he thought, ironically, was this
how it would end?  Killed by one of his own kind?  Like Nick
had killed LaCroix?
     Because DuPrey _could_ kill him.  Nick realized he didn't
even need a stake or fire.  All he needed to do was drain the
blood from Nick's body--then leave him out in the open.  Nick
would be paralyzed without blood, and the sun would do the rest.
He looked up into DuPrey's face hovering over his own.
     DuPrey released his grip on Nick's throat.  He smiled at
Nick and said, "No.  I won't kill you now."  Nick gasped for
breath.  He tried to move, throw off DuPrey, but the vampire
held him in an immobile grip.  "You intrigue me.  I can see why
LaCroix chose you."
     "Why?" Nick croaked.
     "For your goodness.  Somehow--you have not lost it."  The
sound of sirens approaching in the night made the renegade look
up briefly.  Then he looked again at Nick.  "How have you man-
aged to preserve your goodness in the face of your corruption?"
He released Nick and stood up.  Nick stuggled to his feet also.
still prepared to battle DuPrey--even if it killed him.  There
were voices outside the building now.  The police.
     DuPrey smiled.  "Very well, _policeman_.  I will leave
this place--for now.  Unless you again wish to oppose me."
     Nick stood ready, but he knew he was no match for DuPrey
alone.  He let his features return to normal, suppressing the
vampire.  "No," he said, looking down.
     DuPrey smiled again.  "Then I will leave.  But this is
not finished.  We _will_ meet again."  Then the man rose in a
blur up through the skylight and was gone.
     The police were breaking in the main door and Nick
realized he shouldn't be found there.  He rose through the sky-
light to the roof.  The woman he'd rescued was with the police
below.  She'd remember him.  What could he do?  Then he saw
Schanke's car drive up.  Worse and worse.  But maybe...
     Careful not to be observed, Nick flew down behind the
building.  Then he walked around to the front, where Schanke
saw him.  "Hey, Knight!  What are you doing here?  Don't tell
me you're out for a stroll."
     "As a matter of fact, I was," he said.  "What's up?"
     "There's nothing here!" came a man's voice from inside
the warehouse.  "But there looks like there's been one hell
of a fight!"
     Schanke studied Nick, then looked at the woman beside him.
"Miss Densham here almost became a victim of the serial killer.
I think," he added confusedly.  "You tell _me_, Nick."
     Nick fastened his gaze on the woman and exerted his
hypnotic influence on her so she wouldn't take her eyes away.
"This is the man who rescued you, isn't it," said Schanke,
looking at her.
     "No, we've never met," said Nick.  He insinuated the
reply deeply into Miss Densham's thoughts.
     "No.  We've never met," said the woman, mesmerized.
     "What?  But you said a policeman was in trouble--"
     "She was probably confused," said Nick, his eyes still on
the woman's eyes.  "Frightened."  Again he forced her to agree
with his statements.
     "Yes.  I was--I was very frightened.  I don't know--"
     "Well, at least you're alive.  We'll figure out the rest
downtown.  With your description of the assailant, we should
be able to put out an A.P.B. and run him down in no time."
Nick concentrated his thoughts further.
     "I don't know, Schanke.  It's pretty dark."  He kept his
gaze on the woman's eyes.  "Perhaps she doesn't remember."
     "Sure she does, Nick," said Schanke, frowning.
     "No.  No, I don't--remember."  Satisfied, Nick released his
hold over Miss Densham.  "Really, I don't!" she said, looking at
Schanke.  Nick drew closer and put an arm around her, smiling.
     "Hush.  It's all right now.  It's just a reaction to
your experience; I'm sure that after you've recovered enough
to feel safe again, you'll remember."  But Nick was secure in
the knowledge that he had succeeded in erasing her memories.
"Schanke, maybe it would be a good idea to take--Miss Densham--
to the hospital--see if she's okay."
     "Yeah, sure, Nick," said Schanke, bemused.  Nick was
amused by his partner's discomfiture, but tried not to let it
show.  He watched as Schanke took the woman over to one of the
police cars and helped her in.
     After the police car drove away, Schanke came over to Nick
again.  He looked Nick over.  "How did you get so dirty?"
     Nick looked down at his clothes.  He had forgotten that
the fight he'd had with DuPrey had left its signs.  "Oh, I
fell down," he said.
     "You fell down?" asked Schanke in apparent disbelief.
     "Yeah, I fell down," Nick insisted.  Schanke studied him
with raised eyebrow.
    "Were you involved with whatever happened here tonight?"
     "No.  I told you; I was out walking.  I just came over
becuase I heard the sirens."  He paused, then continued.
"Shouldn't you be examining the crime scene?"
     "Yeah.  Since you're here, you can lend me your expertise."
     "Happy to oblige."  They went into the warehouse and
began to look around.  The chair the woman had been tied to
was in pieces, victim of the battle between Nick and DuPrey.
Schanke gathered what evidence he could and then he and Nick
walked back out to Schanke's car.
     "Well, once Miss Densham gets over her shock, we'll be
able to make some real progress on this case."
     "I don't think you'll have to worry, Schanke," said Nick.
His partner looked at him in shock.  "Miss Densham survived.
She'll be able to I.D. him.  I think he'll leave town."
     Schanke sighed.  "Yeah.  You're probably right."  He
paused.  "But the evidence will be on the database for other
jurisdictions.  Damn!"
     "What is it?"
     "I really wanted to solve this one."
     Nick smiled.  "Who knows?  You still might."
     "No.  He'll fly out of here."  Nick glanced up into the
night sky, but there was no sign of DuPrey.  "I just hope--
the next place he turns up has better luck."
     "The case will stay open, Schanke.  We may bring him to
trial...someday."
     But Nick had a feeling that they would not.
     Schanke opened his car door.  He thought of something.
"I thought you were going to go to the Raven."
     "I did.  Didn't have any luck," Nick lied.  "Sorry."
     Schanke sighed.  "Oh well, it probably doesn't matter
now."  He got in the car. "I've got to go to the hospital, get
a statement, then go back to headquarters and make my report.
I don't suppose you'd like to help..," he said hopefully.
     "Who me?  I'm on vacation."  Nick smiled.
     "Yeah, you lucky dog.  Wish I had one."
     "Corner Stonetree.  Maybe he'll feel generous."
     "Not a chance.  See you later, okay?"
     "Later."  He watched as Schanke drove away.  Then he
walked off into the shadows of some nearby buildings.  When
he was sure no one was about, he rose up into the night sky.
He headed for the Raven.
     "What happened to you?" asked Janette as he walked into
the club.  She brushed at the dirt on his jacket.
     Nick took her arm.  "Let's go in the back and I'll tell
you."  Once they were in the back room, Nick told Janette
what had happened at the warehouse.  He concluded with
Schanke's investigation and his assurance, "I'm sure DuPrey
has gone for now.  The murder file will be left open, of
course, but I don't think you'll need to worry about the
police poking their noses in here anymore."  The one thing
that still bothered him was that DuPrey's crimes had gone
unpunished.
     Janette touched his arm.  "We'll be ready to help you
whenever he decides to return."  Nick smiled gratefully at
her understanding and her smile for him was warm in return.
She moved closer to him.  "Well, since the case is--solved,
maybe you'd like to stay a while--perhaps pick up where we
left off the other night?"
     It was an enticing idea, but Nick shrugged it aside.
"Some other time.  Nat's waiting--"  He noticed a frown of
irritation cross Janette's face.  He bent down and kissed her
briefly on the lips.  She swayed closer to him.  "Take care
of yourself, Janette."
     "You too, Nicola.  Always."
     Nick left her and flew back to his apartment.
     As he suspected, Nat was still there waiting for him.
"Well?" she asked.
     "Case solved, Nat."
     "Do I get to know anything about it?"
     "It's better you don't."  No need to worry her by
telling her about DuPrey.
     Natalie moved closer to him.  "Still feel all right?"
she asked.
     "Yeah.  Thanks, Nat."  He sat down on the couch and she
sat down beside him.
     "I'll--have to analyze your blood sample.  See how long
the--satisfaction--lasts.  You'll let me know if it gets bad
again, won't you?"
     "Scout's honor," said Nick, smiling and raising his hand.
Natalie looked down.
     "Nick, about what I said--about loving you."  She looked
at him.  Her heart had started to pound faster and he could
feel the desire rising in him to match the sound of her
heartbeats with his own.  He fought back the impulse and the
danger it implied.  Whatever she had given him--at least it
leant control.  He took her hands.
     "I do care about you, Nat."  He couldn't say love,
couldn't bear to increase her pain.  "But I'm still--what I
am.  It's too dangerous for you to be too close to me."  He
could see in her eyes that what he said was not what she had
wanted to hear.
     But she took it well.  She pulled her jacket together and
rose from the couch.  He watched, puzzled, as she walked over
to the refrigerator.  She reached into it and took out the
hypodermic with his blood sample in it.  She smiled wryly.
"See?  I haven't totally forgotten myself.  Couldn't let this
sample go to waste."  She put it in her bag and began to pull
on her coat.
     Nick rose awkwardly from the couch and said, "You don't
have to leave, Natalie."
     She looked at him.  "Yes, I do.  I do.  It's better for
both of us right now."  Nick moved closer to escort her to
the door.  She allowed it, but maintained a mental distance
between them that was palpable.  At the door, she looked at
him again and said, "Get some rest, Nick."
     Nick frowned and fumbled for something to say, but could
think of nothing except a lame, "You too, Nat."  He smiled.
     Natalie smiled back and stepped into the elevator.  The
door closed and she was gone.
     Nick walked back out to the refrigerator and took out a
bottle of animal blood.  Not the enticing human concoction
that DuPrey craved, but it would do him very well.  He poured
some blood into a glass and studied the liquid, thinking of
the common link that he shared with DuPrey and how different
their approach was to the lust for blood.
     Then he drank.
 
                           THE END