TEWS: Fourth night

-- Two days after Last Knight Natalie wakes up alone. And a vampire. Drama. Posted to FKFIC-L October-November 1996.

WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic violence. If you are at all squeamish of or easily offended by such things, please choose another story to read.

She stood frowning at herself in the big hall mirror in her grandmother's house, the long one that her grandmother always stood in front of before going to church. She was going to the prom. And her dress...strapless, knee length.

Pink. Pink wasn't really her color and she wondered who had chosen this dress since it was certainly not one she would have picked out for herself. Without warning, her grandmother appeared beside her in the mirror, her face twisted with familiar disappointment.

"You are not leaving this house dressed like that! For shame!" she admonished in her thick accent. "For shame! Only dirty girls wear dresses like that!' she said. "See!"

And Nana stepped back, indicating the sitting room with a wave of her hand. Janette was standing in there, her deep burgundy gown looking stunning contrast to her pale skin. Natalie felt even more ridiculous; Janette looked beautiful compared to her.

Was that her date, she wondered. He was in there with Janette, his face pressed into her shoulder as he stood behind her and Natalie felt a stab of jealousy.

"You see?" her grandmother was saying, gesturing wildly into the sitting room. "Dirty! Dirty! You're just as dirty!"

Janette was looking at her with something akin to an apology on her face. And when the man with her lifted his face Natalie wanted to run away from him, from his fangs and his glowing red eyes, such a contrast to his boyish face.

"Richard!" Nana scolded. "You stop that! Come out of there! Get away from that awful girl!"

With a horrible grin that made Natalie's insides twist in fear, Richard pushed Janette away from him and began walking toward them. Natalie saw that he had blood splattered all down his chin and on the white of his tuxedo shirt.

"Hi, sis!" he said in a deep, gravely voice as he grabbed her shoulders. Instinctively Natalie put her hands up to his chest, then stopped in horror. She was wearing long white gloves that covered her forearms. But the fingers were stained crimson and they added to the stains already on Richard's shirt.

"Richard, come away from that awful girl!" Nana was admonishing again. She'd taken Janette's place in the sitting room. She was wearing Janette's dress. "Leave that dirty girl be! She's no good! Come sit with Nana!"

Natalie looked up as the hands grasping her shoulders pushed her away, only this time they belonged to Nick, and he was standing in the mirror looking out at her. Just behind him was the man she'd murdered. He was flanked by the two police officers she'd also murdered.

Jerking awake, she heard herself shout "No!" in a strangled voice. As she took in her surroundings, she added "Yes," in much softer tones for no reason in particular.

Her forehead was damp, and Natalie was about to scramble out of the bed when a damp cloth was shoved into her hands. She wasted no time scrubbing the moisture away from her neck and face. When she was finished, a dry towel replaced the dirty washcloth.

Natalie looked up and saw Janette lean back in a chair she'd obviously pulled closer to the bed. She sat with the covers gathered around her waist and regarded the other woman silently for several long moments. "You were mortal," she said finally, "the last time I saw you."

"So were you," Janette shot back evenly. She silently handed Natalie bottle of blood, which she took while trying to quell a small, ungrateful stab of resentment.

"I suppose I should thank you," Natalie said, her voice hard. She couldn't look at Janette. "But you shouldn't have bothered."

"Well I'm sure that can still be arranged," she said matter-of-factly. "There are at least half a dozen people here who would gladly stake you. Not as many as last night," she added with a shrug. "Jose is busily telling anyone who will listen who you are. He seems to think it'll protect you."

This was the old Janette, or something close to it, Natalie decided. Flippant, a bit cold and distant. But Natalie recognized that she did owe her something, even if she wasn't grateful for it at the moment. Had Janette not intervened, it would all be over by now. She'd be a pile of ash blowing across the city right now. Natalie laid back down against the pillows, thinking she should be dead, that she'd rather be dead.

"And, to answer your next obvious question," Janette continued, "the tape was probably just a rumor. At least no one's been able to track it down so far. Still, there'll have to be a few favors called in to the media." Janette's voice sounded bitter and disgusted.

Natalie listened dully as Janette talked, thinking that if things worked out, it wouldn't matter if they did have a tape. She wouldn't be around much longer to blackmail with it. But first she needed to know one thing.

"Janette?" she asked, her head cradled in the crook of her arm. "How did it happen?"

There was a pause, and Natalie knew that Janette understood exactly what she was asking. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it for herself.

"I was wounded. Dying," Janette said softly. "I knew that Nicholas had rescued Patrick and Peggy. When he came back for me, he said he could save me too. I knew what he was saying, what he was offering, and I said no."

"I'm not even sure Nicholas knew what he was doing, but he brought me across. He saved me, just as he promised." Not quite the same old Janette, Natalie thought, judging from the bitterness in her voice as she spoke, the unshed tears that colored every word.

But as she listened to the other woman speak, as she heard Janette's revelation, Natalie felt her heart break into a thousand tiny pieces.

"Nicholas brought me across even though it wasn't what I wanted because he couldn't let me go," Janette finished softly.

Natalie's throat was closing, something vile and angry was choking her as she laid there. "You. Tracy," she finally said, her voice weak and shaking. "Everyone except me." She couldn't even muster up any tears over it now; she'd cried herself out when she thought the asteroid was coming and she'd all but begged Nick to do it. When he'd refused her...at first she hadn't been able to believe what she'd heard. But she'd eventually convinced herself that he'd been right, that it went against everything Nick believed in about vampirism, that it was damnation not life.

Several months after that horrible Valentine's Day she realized that Nick was in love, but it wasn't her he was in love with. It had taken her some time to realize it, and she'd mostly stubbornly refused to acknowledge it. But it made sense, his declaration of love coming so shortly after the incident with the litovuterine. He was attempting to recapture something he felt he'd lost. When wasn't Nick trying to recapture something he felt he'd lost, she asked herself giving Janette a sidelong glance.

Time to face facts, she told herself. Nick had only loved her because she was mortal. She was his idealized icon of mortality. It hadn't even really mattered who she was as long as she remained mortal, even if the cost of that was her own life, Nick could content himself with knowing that she'd died untainted, clean of that curse. And after she was gone, there would be someone else to take her place, and another and another, a faceless line of women across time like a string of dazzling pearls.

She'd known it of course, convinced herself that she could accept that, that at least she would always have some part of him, even if it was only the part she could reach from up on her pedestal.

"You're here now," Janette reminded her quietly, though her words sounded hollow, incapable of providing comfort or reassurance.

"Where is he?" Natalie asked, her voice still tight and angry. "Gone. He never intended to bring me across," she said. "I'm a mistake, Sarah's right. He took too much, and then he left me for dead. He never loved me."

"If he had, he'd be mortal right now, is that what you're thinking?" Janette asked. Natalie silently nodded. "How do you know he's not?" Janette asked abruptly..

That deflated her. Natalie hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until Janette shook her head, then she sank back against the pillows in disappointment.

"Mm, so I see," Janette said lightly, and Natalie glared at her. But she knew Janette was right, that she was fooling herself. It did matter. It would matter a lot to her, no matter what she said or thought. And Natalie couldn't ignore that tiny part of her heart that hoped it was so, for his sake, that some good came out of this parade of horrors.

Natalie hated that part of her just then, willed it to remain silent and not bother her. She wanted to stay mad at him; she wanted to fan the tiny flame of anger and resentment in her heart until it became a huge, raging inferno.

With a sigh Natalie wondered if she'd ever manage to find some sense of equilibrium again. Not five minutes ago she'd been contemplating suicide yet again, and here she was now mad at hell as Nick and yet hoping for the best for him at the same time.

"Where is he?" she asked again, despairing at the desperate breaking of her voice.

Janette shook her head. "I don't know. He is still alive, that much I can tell, but the thread is very weak."

Natalie looked up at her, her expression suddenly very earnest. "When you find him," she began, choosing her words carefully. "When you find him, tell him I'm sorry."

When Janette turned and looked at her the expression in her eyes almost made Natalie's heart break anew. "I'm sorry too," she said. "I know what you were trying to do."

Janette shifted, and moved to sit next to her on the bed. "I wish I could assure you that he does, but it's always so difficult to say with Nicholas. He believes he does these things out of love. I don't think he can see that they're motivated by selfishness. He has a view of how the world should be, and you and I are victims of that. He gave me eternity when I no longer wanted it and he'd rather have given you death when you wanted to live because it was how he thought the world should be." Janette paused and looked off into space for a moment. "LaCroix is the only one who has ever had the power to thwart Nicholas' plan for us all, and even he is not always successful." Then Janette looked back at her and said, "That's something to consider."

"Don't let the bastards win," Janette said simply, but with enough venom that it made Natalie shiver just for a moment.

Natalie looked away. "It's not that simple," she said, passing a hand over her eyes. "I can't--I've killed three people already."

"I won't try to convince you that you are not to blame. You're too much like Nicholas in that respect," Janette began, reaching over and placing her fingers around her wrist, "But perhaps I can help you put it into perspective."

Janette opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to reconsider it. "Tell me about them," she said instead, her voice soft but insistent.

At first, all Natalie could do was look up at the other woman in horror, unable to believe what she was hearing. After several moments of tense silence, Janette continued. "The first one, where did you kill him?"

"Outside The Raven," Natalie said, then stopped herself. "Don't," she warned.

Janette leaned forward. "How long did you wait for him, or did you stalk him? Did you hunt him down" she asked. "How long did you play with him before you killed him?" Now her eyes were sparkling.

Shaking her head, Natalie glared at her. "That crap won't work with me," she said. "I practically invented it!"

Janette sat back and blinked innocently at her. "I'm only trying to give you a sense of perspective," she said. "You don't have to tell me the details, but I can guess. You were hungry. You couldn't help it."

"No," Natalie said scowling trying not to think about how she'd rationalized it in exactly the same way just after it had happened. "I should have planned better."

Nodding her head slowly Janette seemed to contemplate this. "You're probably right," she said after a moment or two. "But what's done is done. We learn from it and we move on. We survive."

"What is so complex about it? You killed someone." At Natalie's look, she said, "All right, you killed three someones. It's a tragedy, I'm not trying to trivialize it. But you have to recognize that circumstances played a part. You'd been left alone and you were starving! If you want to know the truth I'm amazed it wasn't worse than this," Janette said, genuine respect in her voice. "I know it hurts now." Janette hesitated, then added, "Remember what your brother was like."

Natalie flinched and tried to pull away from Janette, but the other woman held fast, waited until Natalie looked up at her again. "You are nothing like Richard was. Let that count for something."

Janette's words hurt her, yet at the same time offered her a vague sense of reassurance, which she attempted to immediately quell with her next words. "What about the police," Natalie asked. "They were just doing their job and..." She passed a weary hand over her eyes. "I should never have gone out."

Nodding, Janette released her. "Absolutely. And as soon as you get dressed, we'll get to the bottom of that." Without another word, Janette rose and waved her to the bathroom, then slipped out of the room.

Natalie watched her go, and gave serious thought to just throwing the covers up over her head and staying there for the night. But as tempting as that was, she had to get up, and so she quickly kicked the covers completely off her and laid there. She'd done this countless times in her old life, whenever she hadn't wanted to get up she'd toss the covers off herself and lay there until the chill drove her up and into the kitchen to make coffee.

No chill this time, though. To delay just a bit longer, Natalie idly looked down at her shoulder. The wound was more or less closed up, but it was bruised and discolored, a large purple welt against the paleness of her skin. Gently she probed it with her fingers and noted that it was tender. When she flexed her right arm it was stiff and she felt an uncomfortable pull on the bones and muscles. Natalie wondered if that would eventually go away or if it would always be there as a reminder.

On her way to the shower she found a pile of towels and clean clothes sitting on a chair outside the bathroom. Gathering up the towels she took a quick, hot shower, washing off the grime and blood from the night before, instantly feeling better as she did so.

Then she dried off, wrapped her hair in a thick towel and went out to examine the clothes. Wondering who had picked these out, Natalie went through them slowly. A large black t-shirt, a denim jacket, black leggings and pair of black sneakers. Natalie realized they were traveling clothes, meant to be dark, comfortable and nondescript all at the same time.

Her hair was still damp and she draped a dry towel over her shoulders to absorb some of the water. She'd seen a hairbrush and a new toothbrush in the bathroom which had obviously been left for her and she made grateful use of them, drawing the brush through her damp hair until it was smooth and her scalp tingled. The mint of the toothpaste caused her to retch though, making brushing her teeth a thoroughly unpleasant experience.

Natalie realized all these trappings, these now meaningless rituals she'd performed nearly every day of her mortal existence were distracting her. Without realizing it, she'd obeyed Janette's instructions to join her and was acting as if getting to the bottom of the incident yesterday really mattered. You decided to go out into the sun, she told herself. She must not allow Janette to sidetrack her. All this grooming, all these old habits were just going to undermine her as she allowed herself to get comfortable. While some of what Janette had said had made sense, there was no changing the past. But she could prevent any future disasters.

There was only one way to find out. Natalie finished dressing, tossed the towel onto the chair heedless of the rivulets of water that darkened the shirt and exited the room. It took her a second to get her bearings since she was in a different part of the house, but she quickly found the wooden spiral staircase and began climbing, her eyes fixed intently on the now tightly closed door that led to the roof. There were several heavy locks and bolts on it; she could see them from where she stood, and she wondered if she'd be able to break them down.

That soon became a moot point, however. She was a little less than two dozen steps from her goal when a sense of panic began to set in; three more steps and it began overwhelm her to the point that she started shaking. With an effort she managed to lift first one foot, then the other and moved two steps closer to the door. Grasping the railing firmly with one had, she managed to pull herself up one more step.

And stopped. She absolutely, positively could not go on and was in fact, nearly paralyzed with fear. Blinking hard, Natalie looked at the door again and willed her body to move but her feet remained firmly rooted to the step she was currently standing on. I should be able to do this, she thought as despair flooded through her. The other day in The Raven she'd tried to do the same thing, and when she hadn't been able to go out she'd assumed it was because she was running mostly on instinct. Now that she was in control and rational, her body should be hers to control at will, not huddling in sheer terror against the wall.

The thought that her body had suddenly turned traitor on her, was acting totally on an instinct of its own that it shouldn't have at this time infuriated her, and she used that outrage to move one more step up. But the effort left her panting and nearly drained. Still she forced herself to move the other foot.

And that was it, that was as far as she could go, and in fact, stepped back down three or four steps before she could stop herself. Frustrated and angry, she leaned against the railing, her head bowed in her hands.

Startled, Natalie looked up. Both Janette and Jose stood on the steps just below her, concern readily apparent on both their faces.

"Obviously not," Natalie said bitterly, sinking down onto the nearest step. She twisted her head and looked up at the door. "I'll wait until tonight, go out somewhere where there's no shelter and wait for the sun." Her voice was shaking, she noted absently.

"It won't work," Jose told her sympathetically, moving to sit beside her. "The closer it gets to dawn, the more you'll be driven to seek shelter. You won't have a choice."

"It's always like this for the young ones, and it affects some of us more than others," Janette added. "Eventually you might be able to go out if you need to, though it will always be extremely difficult. For now..." Janette shook her head slowly. "If you want to commit suicide, this is not the way to do it."

Natalie thought about how Nick had gone outside a few times, even showing up for work in the middle of the day once. How hard that must have been, she marveled. If his reaction had been even a mild version of what she'd just experienced it must have been hell for him.

Natalie looked up at Janette and Jose. "Then what?" she asked. "What can I do?"

Jose took her hand. "Live," he said. "It's what we were built to do, whether we want to or not."

Janette rolled her eyes. "Darling, who writes your dialogue?" she asked, but there was an amused gleam in her eyes.

Jose ignored her, but sneaked a sidelong glance in her direction. "All I'm saying," he said, "is that we go on, we learn to cope. All our instincts are designed to help us to that end." Then he continued, his expression more solemn. "Suicide isn't the answer," he said. "And I think you know that."

Natalie still wasn't so sure, but she had to admit that Jose seemed to be certain, and maybe she ought to listen to him. Of all the strange characters she'd met since this nightmare had begun, he seemed like the only one who was genuinely concerned about her welfare. He'd tried to save her when the others wanted her dead. He'd tried to save her when she'd wanted herself dead.

"I have to warn you though," he said solemnly, leaning back against the step, and Natalie steeled herself for yet another ominous revelation. "An eternity spent missing your favorite foods is hell." He was so serious that it took Natalie a few moments to realize he was joking, and when she did, she gave a small laugh. "No, I'm serious," he continued. "Cheese. Whole milk. Fresh bread dipped in honey. I think the worst part about being a vampire is that even the smell of food, any food, makes me sick to my stomach."

Natalie laughed again, though a part of her recognized what he was trying to do; this was a ploy to distract her, and she had to admit it was working. "A good, sharp cheddar melted over homemade bread and an obscene amount of wine. And a young girl from the village to keep me warm was the best..." Jose said, his voice trailing off with an all too familiar faraway look in his eyes.

That made Natalie roll her eyes. Typical, she thought. Glancing down, Natalie saw that Janette was also lost in thought, a pained expression on her. Natalie wanted to ask her what she was thinking about, but realized that for all his kindness Jose was still a stranger and Janette might not want to reveal too much to him. So she contented herself with catching Janette's eye, ignoring the small tear that sparkled in the corner, and just nodded slowly.

That seemed to pull Janette out of her reverie. "We all have things we miss, things that haunt us from time to time. But we can't afford to live in the past."

"Nick never understood that," Natalie observed, and was amazed that she'd never thought of it before. He spent so much time in the past, trying to escape from his past, yet it consumed him, held him back. Nick would never, ever really be free, Natalie suddenly understood.

But were any of them ever really free from their past, she reasoned. That's what Janette and Jose were trying to tell her, she realized. You couldn't erase or forget the past, but neither could you dwell there either or you'll never get anywhere, never find some small measure of peace.

But she was still unsure, and rested her head on her arms which she clasped together on her knees. "Nick told me once about a friend of his who committed suicide. How did she do it?"

She didn't need to look up to know that Janette and Jose exchanged quick, worried glances. "She went into the sun," Janette said finally. "I don't know how she did it, except that she must have truly wanted to die. She talked about it often enough. Most of us knew it was only a matter of time."

"Nick said she felt she couldn't contribute anything to the world anymore. Is that true?"

"Erika thought it was true," Janette said. "Whether it was really true or not, I can't say. She felt all she was doing was taking, not giving, and she said she'd rather die than become a burden."

Natalie was quiet for a moment, felt her heart beat once. It was the first time she'd noticed it. "I can't kill anyone else," Natalie said. "I'd rather die than let that happen again."

She was looking for reassurances, for someone to tell her that this would never happen again, that she would find some semblance of normalcy, whatever that was, again in time. She was looking for reassurances they couldn't give her. Natalie had always tried to be careful about that with Nick, always strived to keep things into perspective, to not make promises she might not be able to keep. You weren't always successful, a small voice in the back of her mind accused. No, but she had tried and that should have counted for something.

That was the lesson Nick had taught her, she decided. Trust and faith and compassion were meaningless, empty things. You were better off without them because in the end they only got you into trouble. Maybe she should just give in, live the vampire high life, or at least some pale shadow of it on her meager resources. The thought came, unbidden: what better revenge to take against Nick.

There was a light touch on her shoulder, and she looked up slowly. She felt old, and weary to her bones. It must have shown too, because a worried look crossed Janette's face as she looked up at her.

"You've been through a lot in the last week. Give yourself some time and then make your decision." She paused, and looked away for a second, then back up as her eyes locked with Natalie's. "I know what it feels like, to have your whole world suddenly ripped away. And I know what it's like to want to die. If it is truly what you want, then...I'll help you." The last was said reluctantly and was accompanied by a small gasp from Jose who was also now looking down at Janette aghast. But after a moment, he closed his eyes and nodded.

Natalie didn't know what to say and just blinked up at Janette, deciding that the offer made her feel terribly uncomfortable. She couldn't burden someone else with that responsibility, and yet she realized she probably didn't have much choice in the matter and would need Janette's help. For a moment she seriously considered taking Janette up on her offer. But she couldn't, much as she might want to; she was certain that if she was to die it would be by her own hand, not someone else's, not even someone driven by compassion. It was simply too much to ask.

Janette nodded, accepting that without a word. "Lets go have a chat with Sarah, shall we?"

Jose rose and reached out to help her to her feet and the three of them made their way down the steps and onto the main level of the house. As had been the case the night before, a majority of the residents were preparing to go out. Natalie had no idea whether or not the club would be open for business. Nor did she have any idea where to find Sarah, but Jose obviously did. He led them diagonally across the main floor to a closed door and rapped loudly against it.

Natalie concentrated on listening to what might be behind the door. At first there was nothing. Then, after a few moments, Natalie was certain she heard footsteps, someone in slippers or very soft soled shoes, perhaps barefoot, tread carefully across the floor. From the sound of the steps, Natalie figured there was one large room behind the door, hardwood floor like the rest of the main floor, and very little furniture.

She heard a soft click as the door was unlocked and opened. Joanne stood before them, wrapped in an oversized silk bathrobe.

"Where's Sarah?" Jose asked. But Janette was obviously having none of that and simply swept past Joanne and into the main room before she could answer Jose's question. By the time she and Jose had pushed into the room, Janette was seated comfortably on the only sofa in the room, looking expectantly at Joanne.

The corners of Joanne's mouth twitched up into a cold smile as she quickly left, exiting through a pair of curtained French doors opposite the door to the main floor. While she was gone, Natalie took a moment to look around. The room was just as she'd expected given what she'd heard through the door. The floor was lightly colored wood, the walls a slight off white. Natalie noted that the room still had the smell of fresh paint in it, but had no idea if it had been painted recently or some time ago and her more acute senses were still picking up the traces. Not that it mattered, she told herself as she looked at the paintings that hung on the walls. She was certain one was a Georgia O'Keefe original. The other was a portrait of a man in his mid thirties, done in oils. Natalie thought he looked ill, and as she looked more closely at it she realized the paint wasn't yet quite dry on it. It had been done fairly recently.

Joanne returned just then. "Sarah says she'll see you now. Follow me." Natalie turned from her examination of the painting to observe Janette. She had a very bad feeling about this little game of one-upmanship that Janette and Sarah were obviously engaged in as she got a quick look at the cold expression on Janette's face as she rose from the couch.

Wordlessly the three of them followed Joanne through the French doors into what was obviously a sitting room. Joanne paused at the door, and when Jose passed through behind her, Natalie heard her say, "Not you." When she turned, Natalie saw that Joanne had her palm resting flat against Jose's chest and was preventing him from entering the room. Her smile, though, was downright seductive. Natalie watched as Jose reached up and grasped her fingers, moving her hand away from him, but he glanced over at Janette for guidance, his eyes dark.

"It's all right, Jose. We won't be long," Janette said. From his expression, Natalie guessed Jose was not at all happy about being sent away, but did not question or argue with Janette. He simply nodded once, flashed her a quick, reassuring smile and was gone without a backward glance.

Joanne obviously didn't need to be told a second time, though she did pause long enough to drop a small curtsy in Sarah's direction, which earned her a disapproving look, before exiting through the same door Jose had just used. Natalie could hear her laughing on the way out of the suite. Sarah ignored it, and gestured toward a low table surrounded by plush chairs and a loveseat situated against the wall. On the table were three wine glasses and a full bottle of blood.

Without preamble, Janette walked over and seated herself in one of the chairs, leaning back and crossing her legs. As if on cue, both Natalie and Sarah moved simultaneously to join her.

"I thought it was time we had a little talk," Sarah began, picking up the bottle and filling one of the glasses. She handed it to Natalie.

"I see you wasted no time establishing yourself," Janette said. "Did you at least have the courtesy to wait until after I left, or were you already setting up?"

Sarah did not react to that at all, and Natalie watched as she smoothly filled the remaining two glasses. "I've been here for some time," was her only comment. "But that's not what we're here to discuss," she added with a sidelong glance in Natalie's direction. "Later, if you like, I'll tell you all about it."

Natalie realized she was going to be, by and large, a passive observer in this little exchange. It didn't make her in the least bit happy, but she was out of her depth, had been out of her depth since all this had started, and Janette had a much better chance of getting any answers, of getting to the bottom of Sarah's game. And she didn't need to remind herself that the last time she'd attempted to regain some control over her life had ended in disaster. She was forced to trust Janette.

"Not that," Janette said, giving Sarah a studied look. "Looking after all of them. They all come to you with their petty grievances, their sorrows. Some of them want to earn your favor. All of them demand attention in some form or another. And they all rely on you to take care of things for them."

"If they can pay your price," Janette said, and Natalie was startled by the coldness in her voice. "You have quite a reputation, you know. No free rides."

Sarah's glance flicked quickly across her, so rapidly that Natalie almost missed it. "You know as well as I do that establishments like...ours....don't come cheap. Am I supposed to just welcome them with open arms and tell them they can always rely on the goodness of my charity? You're not going to tell me that you did that? Because LaCroix certainly never did."

"There's a difference between you and I," Janette said evenly. "How many people are here paying off their debts to you, a debt you manipulated them into?"

Janette was becoming agitated, Natalie could clearly see it in her posture and the way she clipped her words. And one quick look at her expression convinced her she never wanted to be on the receiving end of her temper.

But that didn't seem to phase Sarah in the least, who merely laughed softly, though it was a forced, ghastly sound. Dead and empty and a complete facade, Natalie thought. "Taking in the strays," she said with a chuckle. "Yes, I'd heard that about you, but I didn't believe it."

"We all have a responsibility to the community," Janette said, visibly regaining control of her temper. Her voice had become calmer, lighter, and she seemed more relaxed.

"Ah yes," Sarah said. "Providing shelter and all that." Then she paused, and placed her glass down carefully on the table. "As it turns out, responsibility is the very thing I wanted to discuss with you," she said leaning back and steepling her fingers.

Natalie did not like the sound of that, and neither, she could tell, did Janette.

But before she could decide what she meant, Sarah continued. "I take my responsibilities more seriously than you might think, Janette." Then Sarah's gaze turned on her, and Natalie tried not to shift uncomfortably in her seat. "Take Natalie for instance," she said. Natalie tried not to glare at her. For her part, Sarah continued in the same mild tone. "I took her in, even when she was a danger to my patrons. I gave her blood."

"You allowed her to go out when you knew she did not have sufficient control."

"Nonsense," Sarah said. "Jose failed her in that regard, not me. He made that clear last night, to an entire roomful of people."

Janette shook her head. "Not good enough. This is your place, you have set yourself up in a position of responsibility, you are to blame for what happened last night. No one else."

"I took in a starving vampire. More importantly I took in Natalie Lambert. She wouldn't give her name, but I knew who she was. The doctor who found a cure for the fever, who's been covering for us." Sarah shook her head. "If anyone has been irresponsible in this matter, it hasn't been me, and there are plenty in the community who will back me up on that."

Natalie was already more than a little tired of being talked about as if she wasn't there The tension in the room was thick and uncomfortable, and when she cleared her throat loudly, both women focused their attention on her. Janette looked mildly annoyed that she'd interrupted, but there was no backing down now.

"What about last night?" she asked, her hand moving unconsciously toward the stake wound on her right shoulder.

"What about it?" Sarah asked flippantly. "I was attempting to take care of a problem. You were out of control."

"You panicked," Janette interjected. "Natalie had done something that didn't fit into your plans, so you decided to cut your losses and destroy her," she accused.

"I couldn't risk having her go off on a rampage. She killed police officers. She allowed police officers, and a number of other mortals, to see her. The Enforcers would have done exactly what I did last night." Janette had struck a nerve. That much was obvious to Natalie as she watched Sarah's body posture become stiffer, her tone defensive

Sarah continued. "And just why was she running loose, killing homeless people before Joanne found her? Who brought her across then left her to fend for herself? Who didn't live up to his responsibilities?"

There it was. The point Sarah had been driving toward throughout the entire conversation, particularly since the whole issue of responsibility had come up. Natalie instantly began berating herself for not having seen it sooner, for not having thought of it. She'd been an idiot, she realized. She'd failed to ask the right questions. Hell, she'd failed to ask any questions. Instead, she'd allowed herself to fall into a virtual hornets nest of trouble, more so than she usually did. At least with Nick she'd had some idea of what she'd been getting into. Though she'd had her doubts about Sarah, Natalie suddenly felt blindsided by her own stupidity and lack of vision. Jose had had the right idea in telling everyone who she was. Natalie had assumed that anonymity would somehow protect her, give her some time when in fact her silence had given Sarah time to start honing it into a weapon. Add that to the list of things that made her a fool, Natalie thought, the knowledge sending a sharp pang of recrimination through her.

When she looked over at Janette, she was sitting there calmly, completely unsurprised by Sarah's words, though Natalie knew she must have reached the same conclusion about Sarah's motivations. At least what Natalie had guessed at so far. Who knew how deep and how far Sarah's manipulative streak ran?

"That's your game then, is it?" Janette said. "Take Natalie in, play the good Samaritan. Eventually reveal how you helped the one who cured the plague to everyone for the points. Let her go out, maybe run into a little trouble, let her see what a big, bad world it is out there so she'd come running back to you for help and protection." Janette paused and leaned forward slightly in her chair. "But you miscalculated, didn't you? There was more than a little trouble last night, wasn't there?"

Natalie suddenly straightened. "My keys and wallet. You put them on the body so the police would be looking for me. You were hoping someone would spot me and there'd be trouble." Natalie couldn't believe the words as they poured out of her mouth, but it was the only thing that made any sense. Everything was falling into place and Natalie suddenly felt sick to her stomach. "Oh my God," she said, fixing Sarah with a confused stare. "Why?"

"You didn't expect it to get that out of hand," Janette said, rising abruptly from her chair and pacing quickly back and forth. "When that happened you panicked and decided to destroy her. So that everyone would thank you for taking care of the problem before they became too suspicious of you."

Sarah sat there watching the two of them, her face frozen into a cold smile.

"You're after Nick," Natalie said slowly. "I should have seen...You didn't ask me any questions. I should have figured it out."

Sarah stood and walked over to stand in front of Janette. "This is a fascinating fiction, Janette. But you're avoiding the real issue. You talk so prettily about responsibility, how we all have a responsibility to the community." Sarah's voice was almost sweet, there was a smile on her lips. "Are they just words, or do you really mean it?" Then Sarah turned her head slightly and looked over at Natalie. "She's innocent. She's his victim." Looking back at Janette, she whispered, "You know what has to be done about him."

The silence began to get on Natalie's nerves after the first thirty seconds. Janette remained silent for a moment or two longer. Natalie imaged she was having some great war with herself, some mental battle wherein she tried to figure out just what card to play. For her part, Natalie wanted to play the "beat a hasty retreat and figure out your options" card but she somehow suspected that Janette would discard that one from the pile right away.

It was something of a desperate ploy, a bluff. Natalie couldn't have hoped to pull that one off--lying had never been one of her strong suits. She'd only recently discovered that there was an art to lying by omission and she didn't do it particularly well. It had become a necessity though, once Nick had entered her life. Once she'd learned the truth about vampires.

Janette on the other hand was probably quite adept at bluffing, particularly to get herself out of a sticky situation. Some of her old posturing was there, the regal bearing that demanded that you pay attention to and obey her. Not as much as there had been before Robert, but Janette had had enough experience with it that the necessary body language and inflections were easily relearned. Sarah seemed only marginally affected by it. She'd been more affected when her position had been less firm, when she'd been standing on shakier ground.

"Am I?" Sarah asked. "I know more about her than you might think. Considering who she is and her present circumstances, it doesn't take much of an educated guess to figure out who did it."

Another long silence from Janette, and Natalie debated with herself over whether or not she should jump in, since it was so obvious that her fate was partially at stake. Not as much as last night, but it was still at issue, and Natalie loathed her exclusion from the discussion. She felt like something insubstantial being buffeted around by gusts of winds, all blowing in different direction. She had no clear course in mind, and if there was one thing she hated, it was not having a clear path mapped out for her. Nothing so explicit that it didn't afford some flexibility--hell, flexibility she could handle, considering the fact that she could handle the existence of vampires without the barest blink of an eye. It had been critical then, when Nick had come to life on her table, but that was child's play compared to this. Then it had been Nick. Now it was still about Nick--when wasn't it about Nick--but she was looking at it from the other side, as a member of the vampire community, an extremely frightening and alien perspective.

There was a subtle shift in Sarah's demeanor and attitude. Natalie watched as she became shuttered and realized Sarah had given them all the information she was going to give and now they would have to wait and watch the episode unfold around them. Janette saw it too, Natalie realized. It was obvious in the way her gaze flicked across the other woman, over to Natalie. But she tried anyway.

"You've called the Enforcers, haven't you?" Janette said, venomously. "That's been your plan all along."

But Sarah had moved past cooperating, and simply returned to her seat and picked up her glass. Natalie wanted to stalk over there and slap the glass from her hand, strangle Sarah with her bare hands for what she had done. Anger and genuine hatred over being used and exploited and manipulated burned through her with a white hot intensity, starting in the middle of her chest and radiating outward until her whole body trembled.

"Natalie!" Janette's voice was sharp, and for a moment Natalie almost turned on her.

She'd risen, she hadn't even realized it, and was standing over Sarah, her now descended fangs pressing strangely against her upper lip. Without being aware of it, she had turned her internal turmoil and hatred and despair outward and had gone on the offensive, sought to strike out and destroy the thing that was at least superficially at the center of her pain.

"Do you see what I mean?" Sarah asked, her expression nonplused, as she glared up at Natalie from her seat. She hadn't moved as Natalie had advanced on her; there was no fear in her, just outrage and hostility.

"Oh, what did you expect?" Natalie spat at her, ignoring Janette's quiet warnings to calm down. She was angry. She was hurt and tired beyond belief. She was becoming something she couldn't comprehend. And she simply couldn't take any more. "Is there any compassion in you?" she demanded. "Or is everything you see measured in terms of opportunity? I have lost everything in the past week. Everything. My friends. My self control. My life!" As she spoke, Natalie ticked the items off emphatically on her fingers. "And that means absolutely nothing to you except as something to exploit." Natalie stopped and drew a breath, standing rigidly in the center of the room. "How do you live with yourself?" she asked.

Janette seemed interested in an answer to that one, too, as she looked over with an expectant expression on her face. For her part, Sarah just looked up at her, a cool expression on her face. "I suppose I should be outraged," she began. "But I'm not." Her expression softened slightly. "You're obviously very unstable. It happens sometimes and under the circumstances it's hardly surprising."

That did it. Natalie knew that that Sarah wanted her to get angry and possibly lose control again. And she got her wish. The anger, so recently quelled, raced through her with renewed ferocity and she lunged forward, intent on reaching Sarah. But Janette was suddenly between her and Sarah, holding her almost painfully by the shoulders. Natalie felt an awful twinge from the stake wound, and pulled up sharply, intent on dodging Janette to at least get a good slap in. But Janette held fast.

"It's what she wants," Janette said insistently. "Don't let the bastards win, remember?" Natalie heard her words, a part of her understanding what she was saying and another part of her rejecting it entirely. The second part won out, but only for a moment as she was overcome by a strange current that seemed to run throughout her body. It was as if someone had run a string down the center of her, pulled it taut and was now plucking at it, making it vibrate and resonate within her. As she stooped to catch her breath she felt a sense of calm wash over her and through her, diminishing and receding until Natalie felt very still inside.

Looking over into Janette's blue eyes Natalie knew instantly that the sensations had come from her and opened her mouth, Sarah completely forgotten as a string of questions formed, ready to pour out. She was aware of the other woman in all the usual ways, as a physical, tangible presence, but there was a mental representation of her as well, a strange, deep psychic connection and Natalie had absolutely no idea precisely where it originated from.

"Later," Janette said softly, and Natalie knew she was anticipating the questions that she would inevitably ask. Nodding, she allowed Janette to steer her gently from the room, feeling Sarah's eyes boring into her back all the way.

Out the curtained French doors, through the sparse waiting room, out into the main floor of the house. Natalie could feel Janette's fingers around her upper arm, neither pushing nor pulling. Simply guiding. Natalie didn't know what she would have done if Janette hadn't stepped in. If Janette hadn't suddenly appeared here at all. She'd have to remember to thank her one of these days.

She scanned the immediate area and saw no sign of Jose, but when she looked up, he was standing on the steps near the door to the roof, waiting for them expectantly.

Janette merely nodded mutely and continued up past him, pushing the door, now unlocked and unbolted because the sun had set, open with her hand and stepping out onto the roof.

"I'm sorry," Natalie said as soon as they stood together in the open air. Several other groups were clustered around the roof, talking, laughing. All of them turned to stare at the trio for a moment as they moved out onto the roof, then quietly, unobtrusively, they withdrew, leaving the three of them alone. Natalie realized they didn't want to be guilty by association and so they were avoiding her and Janette like the plague. She felt instantly sorry for Jose--he'd been dragged unwittingly into this simply because of his kindness.

"I know," Janette said sympathetically. "Believe me, I didn't particularly enjoy stopping you. Except that she would have torn you to pieces."

Natalie nodded. "I was angry...I didn't mean to attack her. It just...happened." Her voice was breaking in that pitiful way that she hated again. "It's always going to be like this, isn't it," she observed shakily. "Always on the edge of control but never quite having it."

"Only if you keep striving to be something you're not," Janette said. "That was Nicholas problem. And it will be yours too if you try to be like him." She turned and walked to the edge of the roof, looking out at the city. "Our control comes from accepting who and what we are."

"Know your enemy," Natalie said. It was something she'd thought of in Nick's treatment, but had never dared to express openly, knowing exactly how badly he would take it. So she'd sought her answers in quiet observation, empirical data, and careful questions.

Janette turned and fixed her with a strange look. "That's not exactly how I'd put it," she said after a pause. "But I suppose it can be thought of in that way."

Licking her lips, Natalie glanced quickly over at Jose, who stood off to the side studying her. "What was that, downstairs?" she asked.

Janette was choosing her words carefully, Natalie could tell. It was wrong of her to ask in front of Jose, but she had to know. Hopefully, Janette would be able to find a way to tell her without giving away any of her own secrets.

"A vibration," Natalie answered without hesitation. "In here," she said, gesturing to her chest. "Then I just felt calm and still." She shrugged. "Then I had a lot of questions."

"I wasn't sure if it would work. The further removed two vampires are from the source, the weaker the connection. My blood must have strengthened it temporarily."

Janette was giving her what she could, Natalie knew, and the rest would have to wait until they were alone again. But Natalie knew there was no distance between them. Both she and Janette were of the exact same bloodline, Nick's bloodline. And she'd used the word "children"; they were sisters in a sense, just as Nick and Janette, as the children of LaCroix, had been siblings...

The thought nearly made her gag when she considered the implications. Nick and Janette...

"Some training is involved," Janette continued, but there was a quick, amused quirk of her eyebrows as she sensed Natalie's thought process and reaction. "A new vampire has to be taught to look for and recognize it, for the most part. But the connection is always there and can be used, in certain circumstances, to influence even the uninitiated."

Natalie thought about that. "It makes sense," she said after a moment. "You'd want some mechanism for controlling new vampires. An instinctive component of the connection is a natural way to do that. Then it can be refined through learning and training." Her mind turned over the implications of that, of what it meant in terms of vampire evolution, and in terms of her own relationship, or lack thereof, to Nick, Janette and distally even to LaCroix.

But deep in some part of her, a part she tried desperately to quiet because she simply couldn't deal with these emotions right now, she found a strange comfort in it. For the first time in many years, since even before Richard had died, she was beginning to feel like she was part of something. Part of a family maybe? A bloodline or a heritage, certainly a connection that she had completely lost when Richard had died and Sarah had taken Amy away to stay with Sarah's family. Taken Amy away from her. She hadn't realized until this moment how much she resented Richard's wife for that.

Natalie struggled to shut those feelings off. It was too soon, and this was all too new and frightening and strange for her to even be harboring thoughts of having a significant and permanent place within it. But it was there nonetheless, and it had taken root firmly enough that it wouldn't go away, so firmly that for the time being she didn't even allow the incredibly incestuous nature of it bother her, despite her discomfort before.

"What about the Enforcers?" Jose interrupted, drawing her back to the present. She looked to Janette. "She must have called them."

"Nick never told you?" Janette asked, exasperation evident in her voice. "Idiot," she muttered under her breath. "You'd think he'd at least have the decency to warn you."

Janette looked up at her. "We're all responsible for keeping our existence a secret from mortals," Janette began. "But, from time to time, things get out of hand. Some of us are not as careful as we should be."

"And when that happens, the Enforcers come and clean up the mess?" Natalie asked.

"Yes. Their role is a difficult one to define, and they like to keep it that way. It gives them a larger leash, as it were. Mostly they step in when a mortal has evidence of vampires and intends to use it." Janette paused for a moment. "But I've seen them just outright kill mortals who knew our secret for no good reason other than to teach our kind a lesson. They're very powerful, they act swiftly often without the need to face the consequences, and if they're coming here, we have an enormous problem on our hands."

"Nothing, as far as I know," Janette said. "But he has so many skeletons in his closet it's hard to say."

Natalie walked a few paces past Janette and stared out at the city. "I won't cooperate with them," she said after a few moments. "They can't make me tell them anything, can they?" As had been the case when she'd still been mortal, protecting Nick and his secrets was paramount. Everything, including her own safety and integrity took a back seat. A part of her cringed from the fact that she was still doing it even now, but it was instinct. Of all the souls she'd ever encountered, Nick's needed protecting more than any other she had met, and the habit was hard to break even after all he had done to her.

"Natalie, you don't know what you're dealing with," Jose began gently. "They can force you, and they will. They'll take what they want from your blood." He shook his head slowly. "It's better just to tell them the truth. They know when we lie to them."

She wanted to ask Jose how the Enforcers would know the truth from a lie, but now wasn't the time. "We have to run then," she said emphatically. "If they're on their way we have to get out of here now." It seemed so obvious to Natalie--get the hell out of Dodge, not quite by sundown but soon enough after to get a substantial head start. It seemed the only logical course of action at the moment; escape from the mess things had become by running, especially if it meant keeping Nick safe for a time.

This time both Janette and Jose shook their heads. "You cannot run or hide from the Enforcers. It only makes things worse when they catch you."

"How do you know?" she demanded, pacing. "Are you basing this on legend and hearsay, or on hard evidence that you've seen with your own eyes?"

There was silence for a moment from them, then Jose shrugged. "I've just heard stories," he said, turning to Janette. "You?"

"Well," Janette began. "Awful stories. Who wants to take the chance that they might be true?" she added. "But that's beside the point. They do have power, even if a portion of it is based on legend at the moment. I don't want to be the one who forces them to assert themselves as more than just figureheads. And I won't allow you to try it either. Let Sarah be the one to play dangerous games, to gamble with people's lives, not you."

Natalie paced the length of the roof twice, then looked down at Janette. "What else?" she asked.

"About the Enforcers?" At Natalie's nod she shrugged. "There isn't that much more to know. We break the rules and don't take care of it, they arrive. The offending vampire and any involved mortals are killed or never heard from again."

"Always," Janette said, looking at her as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head.

As she turned to Jose and opened her mouth he held up his hands in surrender. "I don't know either."

"It never seemed like a good idea to ask too many questions about the Enforcers," Jose said. "Who knows? They might...drop by to find out why you're suddenly so curious."

"So, they're not objective observers," she said, turning away and again walking across the roof, thinking aloud. "It's not a very good way to run a police force. There's a lot of potential for abuse of the system. They'd be better off setting up their own independent information network."

"I'll be sure to take notes, then," Janette said sarcastically. "I'm sure they'll be grateful for your insights into how they do business."

Natalie ignored her. "So we know Sarah called them about me, and presumably about Nick. Obviously she expects to gain something from it. Something tells me she's not the good Samaritan type." She could feel the wheels spinning, feel her mind wrapping around a puzzle to be solved, and took just a moment to bask in the sense of relief it brought with it. She glanced up at Janette. "You're sure she and Nick don't know each other?"

"I'm not sure," Janette replied quickly. "You know how he is. He tends to have several in every port."

"`Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,' is that it?" Jose asked from where he'd perched on the railing, his dark features in silhouetted against the lights of the city.

"It's possible, I suppose," Jose said, though she could hear the doubt in his voice. "Sarah isn't likely to take a lover unless it's someone she can control and manipulate. Someone she can use to her advantage."

"He's singularly gifted in that respect," she heard Janette whisper under her breath.

"I doubt it. Just from what I know about him, I doubt Sarah would have ever touched him with a ten foot pole. Probably because of LaCroix."

"Questions, questions, questions! This doesn't serve any purpose," Janette interrupted, throwing up her hands. "We can stand here all night trying to figure out who, what, why, when and where, and the Enforcers will still come."

"Maybe," Natalie said quietly. "But I have to know why this is happening. And maybe, just maybe, if I know why, we'll find an out. I deserve to be punished for what I did to those men." Her voice was trembling slightly as she spoke, had taken on a hoarseness from the intensity as she stood over Janette. "I murdered them. But I'm not about to let anyone gain from it if I can help it. And `why' is an important means to that end."

She had to sit down, as her emotions and memories were all bubbling to the surface again, threatening her control. Her limbs felt heavy and it was like they didn't belong on her body, like they belong to someone else. They obeyed her commands, but slowly, reluctantly, as she moved to sit next to Jose on the edge of the roof, and tried not to flinch as his arm slipped around her shoulders. It was a gesture meant to give comfort and reassurance, but it made Natalie feel trapped, even though she knew Jose meant well

It was then that she remembered the one question she hadn't asked. "Jose, how did you know who I was?" The question diverted them away from the puzzle of Sarah's motives, but Natalie figured a few more minutes wouldn't hurt. And it would give Janette a little time to ponder just why she seemed to think those motives were so important.

Jose looked at her curiously for a moment, then dropped his eyes to the roof. "Did you know Screed?"

Jose shook his head. "Actually, I hated the bastard," he said, looking up and fixing her with a grin. "Damn carouche. Couldn't understand a word he said half the time." The grin slipped. "He got sick. And you came to take care of him."

Natalie nodded. "There wasn't much I could do. By the time I got to him, it was too late."

"I know," Jose said. "Vachon told me you did everything you could. And that it was you who found the cure."

"For nearly two-hundred years," Jose said. "He was a good friend. He was the one who told me about you. He said he always meant to stop by and thank you, but I guess he never did. No one thanked you."

"Well," Natalie said looking away. "I can't take all the credit. LaCroix was the one who actually found the answer."

"And didn't know it. Until you pointed it out to him," Jose insisted. "You figured it out. You got us the type of blood we needed and worked out the dosage. And for your protection no one was to ever know what you'd done for us. But some of us knew. And vampires are worse gossips than mortals, I'm afraid."

"So I gather," Natalie said, rolling her eyes. Then she looked up at him, and their eyes locked. "You got sick, didn't you?"

"Yes I did," Jose said solemnly, his gaze never leaving her. He didn't even blink for several long seconds. "But I'm feeling much better now, thank you."

She knew that look. Nick had looked at her that way; she'd caught it a few times when he'd thought she wasn't looking, or he was just in a particularly bubbly mood and wasn't paying attention. And he'd walked around obviously lost in that fog during Valentine's Day last year. She sighed inwardly. "You have lousy timing," she said before she had time to think about it.

His lips curled in a light smile as he shrugged. "I've never had any complaints before" he said softly.

Natalie wanted to jump up and thank her for interrupting. She liked Jose, she really did. But his timing was so bad. She wasn't ready for this, couldn't possibly deal with it at the moment, no matter how kind he seemed. Why on earth he felt such an urgency to make a move on her when they had eternity was beyond her. It had to be that damned, awful syndrome where patients thought they were in love with their doctors because they saved them. Just her luck.

Janette's words seemed to snap him out of his fog as well, as he lowered his eyes and looked away from her. "I'm sorry," she heard him mutter, the words just barely reaching her ears above the noise of the city.

Time to get back to their current, more significant problem, Natalie thought. She began by working through the pieces they had. "Sarah takes me in, plants my wallet and keys." She broke off as a thought occurred to her. "An anonymous tip. We get them all the time. Oh, geez, and the MO on the body in The Raven matches several unsolveds on the books. No wonder they called for backup last night. The must think I'm some kind of serial killer."

"Maybe they think you killed Nick and hid his body somewhere," Janette offered. At Natalie's aghast look she added, "I'm sure you considered it from time to time. I did."

"She's been very careful, you know," Jose said. "I listened to your conversation with her. Everyone in the house was listening. She planned it that way, and she didn't say anything that would incriminate her."

"But it all makes so much sense," Natalie said. "She wants the Enforcers after Nick. We just don't know why." They were missing pieces of the puzzle, and because of that, there was no way to get a complete picture. But she was good at figuring out the shapes of the missing pieces, and the part of the picture that was on them. "OK, she either has a grudge against Nick and is out for revenge, or she's got some other agenda in mind. Any thoughts as to what that might be?"

"I keep telling you it doesn't matter," Janette said, walking over to stand only a foot or two away from her. "You'd do better to spend your time deciding what you're going to tell them about Nicholas and the incident yesterday."

Why is she acting this way when she has the most to hide, Natalie wondered. Of all of them, she would have figured that Janette was the last person who would want to stand up to an inquisition of any sort. Unless it was true and Janette had truly never thought to question the Enforcers in anything, seemingly more intent on avoiding them all together. Or dealing with the question of how to handle them rather than why one should when the occasion arose.

She had a point, Natalie had to admit. What was she going to say to them? Somehow she didn't think a quick sorry was going to cut it with them, and rightly so. But she was still certain that the whole question of how to answer them was tied in with why they were there in the first place.

And at the moment she had no idea what that was, nor how she might find out. It wasn't helping that both Jose and Janette were sidetracking her. But perhaps they could use the Enforcers to help them find Nick, then do some fast talking. Natalie wished she knew more about them, particularly that whole bit about them knowing if they were lying. Now there was a mechanism to speculate about. But she doubted that her two companions had given the matter any thought. You had to admire the Enforcers, Natalie thought. They seemed to have the entire vampire community spit scared of them, which was, of course, something to consider in dealing with them. She wasn't so concerned about herself, but there was Jose and Janette, and Nick to consider. To say there was a lot at stake was an understatement.

She still didn't understand why they shouldn't just run away, but both Janette and Jose seemed dead set against it. She couldn't very well set out on her own. The events of the last two days were proof enough of that, she decided. So far being a vampire was not at all what it was cracked up to be, and having to exist like this while on the run from the entire vampire community was not her idea of a great way to spend eternity.

Natalie didn't have time to ponder the question or the facts any longer because the door to the stairwell opened and Dave stepped out onto the roof.

It seemed to Natalie, considering the way both Janette and Jose seemed to regard them, that they should have arrived with a great deal more ominous fanfare. She'd pictured them alighting with great drama on the roof, their power evident in their stance and their auras. Instead, she felt like they'd sent an errand boy out to fetch her. Wordlessly she exchanged glances with Jose and Janette who both silently moved to follow Dave down into the building. She fell in behind them. As she passed him at the door, Dave leaned forward suddenly and hissed loudly in her ear, baring his fangs at her. She flinched away quickly, then stopped to stare at him for a moment. He seemed taken aback by her open stare, her shocked expression, and looked away quickly. "Inside," he said gruffly.

Dave lead them down a few flights of stairs. "You," he said pointing to Jose, "Wait in there."

They were going to keep them separate and question them individually, Natalie realized. That was actually smart as it gave them less time to agree on a story and was a good psychological mechanism to make them more nervous. They must have a lot of practice with interviews, she thought.

Several floors down, Dave ushered Janette into a room, and Natalie saw that it was much plusher and more nicely furnished than the room he put Jose in. It made her wonder just how she was going to fare, considering Dave's open animosity toward her.

She was right. Dave put her in what was basically a large closet. It had a single wooden chair and a bare light bulb and it was incredibly cliche, she thought. He locked the door behind him when he left, too.

Wondering if she could hear them, Natalie stood near the door and listened carefully. She could hear most of the occupants of the house, and the sounds and routines of the inhabitants were familiar enough to her that she thought she could pick out something unusual. But there was nothing. Which meant that wherever they were, they were in a very private room, probably the one she and Janette had used last night. Natalie hadn't realized until she woke up this morning that it was soundproofed.

Which she did. She walked around the chair so many times she was certain she'd worn a path in the floor, all the time turning over all the little details about Sarah and the Enforcers that she had in her mind. Had Nick ever told her anything that might relate back to Sarah, might provide the link? Mentally, she reviewed the things Nick told her and came up empty.

It hadn't been in his blood either, she thought, then stopped dead in her tracks. Where had that come from? Natalie blinked and concentrated on the tiny thread of memory. She'd gotten Nick's blood, when he'd bit her, she realized. Why hadn't she ever considered that until now? What did she remember about that? Had she gotten some of his memories?

It was hazy, she realized. She could remember the events right before pretty well, had a vague impression of the moment he bit her, mostly that it had hurt, but after that it was kind of a blur. She'd seen Janette, she thought. Trying to remember it made her feel strange and uncomfortable, the memories both violent and intimate... And it meant he'd gotten even more from her since he'd taken more blood. And that didn't make her feel comfortable at all, she decided.

But as far as she could remember, which wasn't saying much, Sarah hadn't been among them. Thought it was important Natalie couldn't bring herself to try to focus on that brief exchange of memories any further, as a knot formed deep in the pit of her stomach. That gave credence to the idea that she was part of a faceless parade of women in Nick's life, that there was nothing to separate her, make her special.

It shouldn't bother her, she chided herself, resuming her pacing. It shouldn't matter. She'd known or at least suspected about the other women, particularly Janette. It had been going on all during the time they'd been working on a cure. Some of them she could forgive: Alyce, Anne Foley, Emily Weiss. There had been nothing but friendship between them then. When she'd felt a pang of jealousy toward the other women she tried to keep it to herself. But after Valentine's Day? Being forced to play that ridiculous charade mandated by LaCroix and Nick, knowing he was again spending substantial amounts of time with Janette, that he was slipping away from her had all begun to take its toll on her. Then there'd been the incident with Marian Blackwing. It had all hurt like hell. It still hurt like hell. She'd felt shut out, cut off. Afraid and more lonely than she could ever remember feeling in her life. To have his devoted attentions, his touch, his kisses for that brief time, something she'd only dreamed about, only to have it snatched brutally away ostensibly for her own good, left an aching void inside her.

She'd started working a lot more and sleeping a lot less, shunting her pain and forced silence into work to keep her mind and heart occupied. It had only partially worked. A part of her had noted with horror her sometimes harsh manner with Nick and knew it was her own disappointment and loneliness striking out at him with textbook passive- aggressiveness. There were so many times she regretted lying to him, wanted to tell him she remembered everything. It had seemed like the only solution to set them all free at the time, and it was a terrible irony that it became her prison.

But she couldn't. She'd been afraid he'd try to run from her, from the things he'd said and done to her that night. She'd been afraid that LaCroix would decide to exact his revenge, or worse yet attempt again to take the memories from her and this time succeed. For as unhappy and isolated as the knowledge made her feel, they were her memories and nobody had a right to take them. Not LaCroix, and certainly not Nick, and even though she loved him despite that there was a part of her that would never forgive him for trying to erase the memory of that time.

There had been no way out, she'd realized. She'd trapped herself in misery by her own cleverness and stubbornness, and could only keep on loving him, keep working on the cure to set him free so that whole horrible episode would cease to be a barrier between them.

With a groan Natalie rubbed her eyes. This was getting her nowhere. And distracting her from the real problem at hand. She didn't have enough answers, and she'd waited too long to ask important questions that might have led to those answers. And now what? Any moment they were going to come for her, ask her a lot of questions about Nick and about the people she'd killed. And then? What would they do to her. What would they do to Nick?

It all made her head spin, and she suddenly realized she'd simply have to ad lib her way through this interview and hope for the best. Obviously they didn't know where Nick was or they'd have just dealt with him directly. So they needed her for that at least, which might or might not be a good thing.

And there was Janette to consider as well, Natalie realized. She owed it to her to protect her secret at all costs. She had no doubt that Janette's brief mortality and the manner in which it had been achieved would not be welcomed news to the vampire community. And Natalie also doubted that Janette wanted the world to know that she was once again technically a fledgling. Whatever happened, she would have to be especially careful with her answers. Janette had trusted her with that information, had proven to be a good ally and her presence made Natalie feel safe. To the best of her ability Janette's secret would be safe with her. She'd see to that.

She was still pondering the link between Sarah and Nick when the door scraped and then swung open abruptly. Her heart sank as she realized it was her turn. They must have finished with Jose and Janette, she thought.

LaCroix stood framed in the door, his eyes full of cold hatred as he stood there glaring at her silently.

Natalie shivered involuntarily under the weight of those eyes. Funny, she'd never noticed how icy blue they were, or how dark and ominous his eyebrows were. At the moment, furrowed across his forehead they reminded her of stormclouds. She was silent; she couldn't have said anything, even if she'd wanted to. Any greeting, any words of any sort died on her lips beneath the intensity of his scrutiny. She leaned against the brick wall lightly for support, feeling a sudden surge of vertigo overtake her.

She nodded, wishing desperately that she could rid herself of the lump in her throat. As frightened as she'd been of him at times when she'd been mortal, she was absolutely petrified of him now. His presence made her want to huddle in the corner, curl up into a tight fetal ball and pray that he went away soon. It was as if he was filling her with an awful chill, a cold and metallic coldness that froze the better part of her soul. There'd been no time to consider how she'd deal with this, she realized. Natalie could only guess that his intense hatred of her stemmed from being forced to deal with the Enforcers. But if he was here, then where was Nick? Had LaCroix shown up in his stead? She looked up at him, opened her mouth to start the stream of questions that was on the tip of her tongue. And stopped.

LaCroix didn't move, didn't even change facial expression, but she knew asking him anything was absolutely futile. He wasn't going to answer any of her questions. He didn't utter another word to her. Instead, silently he turned and left, closing the door firmly behind him. Natalie heard the lock click back into place.

She stood there in the corner, staring at the blank wood of the closed door for several long minutes. The air around her was still and quiet, and if she allowed herself, she might be able to convince herself that she'd imagined it. That he'd never been there at all.

But he had been. She could still feel his presence like a cold, soft breeze, the kind you barely noticed unless you concentrated on it, and then when you did you realized it was slowly chilling you right through skin and muscle and bone, right down to the marrow. In response to these somber thoughts, Natalie shivered abruptly, then resumed her steady pace round and round the chair in the center of the room.

Yet another wrinkle, one she pondered in relation to all the other wrinkles. This situation was getting more complicated by the minute, and just as she began to grasp at the thin threads that would make all of this sensible, something new appeared to snatch them away from her and hopelessly tangle them. Maybe Janette had been right; maybe she'd be better of if she thought about what she was going to say to them when they came for her.

It wasn't too much longer before she heard the lock slide back and the door again swung open. This time, however, there was no sign of LaCroix. Dave stood there, holding the door open for her, stiff and silent. She'd been walking clockwise around the chair, and slowed her steps at the sound, then walked forward to slip past him through the door.

The main floor of the house was as deserted now as it had been when Dave had brought her down, and by her reckoning several hours had passed while she'd been confined. LaCroix's brief visit couldn't have taken place more than half an hour ago, though. The house was still and dimly lit, and Natalie was certain she imagined the heavy, ominous feel in the air.

Dave led her across the floor to the very room in which she and Janette had talked to Sarah earlier. This time they moved deeper into the suite, past the ornate sitting room and into a larger room. More couches and chairs, all plush and expensive looking, but whereas the sitting room had a decidedly feminine feel Natalie was certain a man had decorated and occupied this room.

Moot point, really, she thought as she took in the figures that already occupied the room as she was led into it. No faces she recognized.

She fervently hoped they were all right, all still alive. She didn't need any more deaths or injuries on her head.

But there were three men in the room, and Natalie surmised that they must be Enforcers. They looked like your typical, garden variety vampires, the kind of creature you'd expect to see, straight from the b-movies. Gaunt, sunken eyes and deathly pallor, their faces were hard and cruel. All were dressed in expensive black suits. Natalie wondered how on earth they managed to move among mortals since they looked so strange and fearsome. Then again, perhaps they didn't.

Two of them rose as she was ushered in. The third continued to sit casually in his chair, his legs crossed and his hands folded neatly in his lap. Two of them took up position on either side of her. She heard Dave beat a hasty retreat out the door once she was inside.

The room was silent for several moments, and Natalie wondered briefly if they were waiting for her to say something. Unable to stand it any longer, she cleared her throat and looked to the third Enforcers who seemed to be the leader expectantly. This situation was way out of her depth and she didn't have the faintest idea of what to say, how to begin.

For his part, he merely looked back at her without saying a word. Natalie was certain she'd never seen anything as cold and dead as those eyes as they drilled through her. Even LaCroix, about whom she'd heard some horror stories, had a depth and range of emotion which he managed to convey as he looked at you. Sometimes that message wasn't particularly pleasant, but it was apparent nonetheless.

Not so, this one. She couldn't read these eyes at all. Or either of the other two she realized, glancing first to her right, then to her left. But that ceased to matter when she saw what the two on either side of her were clutching prominently in front of them.

The mere sight of them stopped all thought, all strategy. Instead, it conjured up memories and sensations from last night. Natalie began to tremble violently and whirled to back away from them as they seemed to close in on her, only to be stopped dead in her tracks by a loud hiss from the one seated in the chair behind her. When she twisted around to look at him his expression indicated that he was vastly amused by her fear. His pale lips were drawn up into a thin, ghastly smile.

Wordlessly he rose and slipped past her, taking the stake from the hands of the one nearest to her. Natalie had never realized that vampires were capable of the normal flight-or-flight sympathetic responses to which mortals succumbed. But the instinct was clanging loud and strong inside her: her mouth was dry, and a thin film of fear sweat broke out across her entire body.

As they closed in on her she backed away from them nervously, only to realize too late that they were maneuvering her into the corner furthest from the door and freedom. Were they going to just stake her without asking her any questions?

"Stop!" she managed to gasp out as they stood two or three feet from her, the one holding the stake closest to her.

That stopped them, though Natalie was sure it was due to the fact that she'd managed to find nerve enough to ask anything at all rather than her specific command. All she cared about was that they'd stopped slowly pressing forward. She was still trapped; there was no way she would possibly slip past him, though it occurred to her to try.

The leader lifted the tip of the wooden stake and placing the tip against her shoulder, just where the one last night had gone through her. The feel of it against her, even through her clothes made her knees turn to jelly and to her horror she felt herself start to slide weakly down the wall toward the floor. She couldn't go through that again, she thought frantically, her hand reaching up to wrap around the piece of wood. The Enforcers held it firmly against her, and she heard one of them laugh.

The tip pressed against her more firmly. "Stand up," the one holding the piece of wood commanded. His amused smile turned into a grin. Natalie wanted to beg him to let her go, to plead with him to remove the stake. Actively, she fought down the urge. It might come to that, but not just now. She wouldn't beg now.

"Stand up," he repeated. Natalie couldn't stop shaking, but she forced her muscles into action, willed her knees to lock rigidly so that she could stand up, though she leaned tightly against the wall. She was so afraid; the stake was pressed tightly against her flesh, the three vampires were gathered too closely around her.

When he abruptly pulled the stake away from her, she nearly fell to the floor again. But she was grateful beyond words to him for having done so. It was as if the hand that had been throttling her, cutting off her air had suddenly been removed, giving her the freedom to draw deep, desperate breaths.

He gazed intently at her for several seconds, then with a small laugh turned and resumed his seat, gesturing with the stake that he still held in his hand for her to stand directly in front of him. When she didn't move immediately, one of them grabbed her arm roughly and jerked her out into the center of the room to stand in the spot the leader had indicated.

Natalie blinked at him for a moment. "I don't know," she answered truthfully, and was relieved to see him nod in agreement. It occurred to her that she might test out the theory that they could detect lies, but any willful belligerence she might have been capable of died at the sight of those stakes and the brief threatening posture of the Enforcers as they gathered around her. She could well understand why they had the reputation they did, realizing that they found and exploited the weaknesses of the vampires they were sent to question. There had been no doubt in her mind, for several long and uncomfortable moments there that they would rather have killed her and been done with it. Had she not gone through the ordeal she'd endured the night before, she might have provoked them into it, then welcomed it once it finally happened. It was yet another awful irony that that avenue of escape, or so it had come to be termed in her mind, had been cut off.

"Does he know that you are a member of the Community now?" The disgust was plain in his voice.

Natalie shook her head. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since..." She paused, unable to continue. She hadn't seen him since that awful night when she'd provoked him into biting her. She'd been so sure of him; in the end, however, she'd been so wrong. "I don't know," she repeated sadly. "I don't think so."

Taken aback for a moment by the question, Natalie could only stare at him. "What about him?" she finally managed to ask.

Natalie looked down quickly. This was unexpected. Were they going to hold her accountable for that as well? "He was shot trying to help out with a hostage situation," she began, choosing her words carefully. "The doctors told me there was nothing to be done for him and that he wouldn't live. So I asked Nick to do it." That was untrue, and unfair and she quickly looked up and amended her last statement. "I forced Nick to do it. He didn't want to, but he did it for me. I told him he owed it to me."

"We substituted his body with the body of a homeless man and took Richard to Nick's loft. He was still unconscious. When he woke up, Nick made me leave." She wasn't about to mention that she and Nick had told Richard's wife everything, and that she had been there at the time as well. No need to drag her into this, particularly since Natalie was fairly certain she didn't remember anything about it.

Natalie closed her eyes, remembering Richard's face, twisted and distorted with the realization of his newfound power. Richard, the good man, the white knight, turned into a murderer and reveling in it. What had she done? No wonder Nick had refused to bring her across when she'd asked. If it happened to Richard there was a good chance it would happen to her as well.

"Did you see your brother again?" The question, repeated in more insistent tones, intruded on her painful memories, and she nodded, eyes still closed.

Opening her eyes at this, Natalie slowly shook her head back and forth in denial. "You must know," she began.

He shifted in his seat, leaning forward. "I do," he said, his cold eyes looking directly into hers. "But I want to hear your version of it."

She shivered, both at the memories and at his expression. "He was mad," she said, each word wrung painfully from her lips.

"He killed all those people," she said, closing her eyes again. She could still see them. They haunted her, she realized, since she saw their faces often, in her dreams, in idle moments in the office. "And he wanted to kill more. He didn't regret what he'd done."

He rose, tapping the stake gently in his hand. "Nicholas didn't remain to watch over your brother?"

It dawned on her then. That's what this was all about. Between her and Richard they were building a good case against Nick. There must be some kind of rule, albeit a sensible rule, that mandated that new vampires had to be supervised lest they run wild. She'd certainly experienced the consequences of that in the last couple of days.

"Now you see," he said, resuming his seat and looking intently at her again. Had he read her mind?

There was nothing she could say in Nick's defense, she realized. It had occurred to her to that Nick should never have left Richard alone, that if Nick had only booked off of work for a few more days, fed him something other than cow blood, all that bloodshed might have been prevented. But she'd been in too much pain to lash out at Nick at that time. She'd just lost her brother twice, and she'd also played a substantial role in it happening the second time. It was an incident that neither she nor Nick ever talked about afterwards, though they'd both desperately needed to.

The Enforcers sitting before her nodded in agreement. "But once it was done, the responsibility was Nicholas' and Nicholas' alone. You are his responsibility as well."

I sense a pattern here, some voice in her mind that had once probably belonged to Schanke intoned flippantly. There was a pattern, a pattern of responsibility and Nick not taking it she realized. For a while there they'd actually begun to make progress. Until LaCroix had returned, and Nick had begun to slip away from her.

His eyes lifted away from her, to a point somewhere over her shoulder, and Natalie felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle uncomfortably. Someone else had entered the room and was standing behind her. "Are you going to intervene on his behalf again this time?" he asked as Natalie turned her head. LaCroix stood there, flanked by Janette. Sarah stood just behind them, leaning against the doorway, her expression wary. The Enforcer's tone was sarcastic and full of contempt as he addressed LaCroix.

The Enforcer slowly shook his head. "I think not, Lucien," he said. Natalie watched as LaCroix made a visible effort not to bristle at the use of his given name.

"Doctor Lambert is coming with us," he countered calmly. "Since Nicholas has once again failed to live up to his responsibility, we will look after her training. The Community can make use of her...abilities."

Natalie did not like the sound of that, and neither, she could tell, did LaCroix as he snorted contemptuously. Without meaning to she looked to LaCroix and Janette for reassurance. LaCroix's gaze flicked over her quickly. Janette merely nodded slightly, reassuringly.

"Ah, but he is." Natalie felt the stance of the two Enforcers standing near her stiffen, though she'd seen no sign from the leader. The tension in the room was again very thick as LaCroix and the Enforcer confronted one another. She didn't want to go with the Enforcers, of that she was absolutely certain. And it seemed to her that if LaCroix was afraid of the Enforcers he was doing a great job of not showing it. Natalie found herself in the unusual position of actually hoping LaCroix would win this time.

She dared another glance toward LaCroix and Janette and saw that she was also looking warily at LaCroix. "I will see that he is punished for this. I give you my word."

"Not good enough," the Enforcer said. "Not this time. Nicholas has become a liability. To the Community. And so, for that matter, have you, since you've indulged his flagrant disregard for the Code.. And broken it yourself, in your games with him. It's time it was ended." As he spoke he tightened his grip on the wooden stake in his hand and lifted it slightly, his meaning clear.

LaCroix seemed to ponder this, and Natalie involuntarily shifted her position, tensed. Maybe she could make it to the door, create some kind of diversion. "I see," she heard LaCroix say quietly.

She started to move just as she felt an arm snake around her waist. In shock, she looked up into the face of the Enforcer who had been standing off to her left. He pulled her roughly back against him, squeezing so hard that she thought her ribs might break.

LaCroix stood in front of the leader as still as a statue. "As I said, Doctor Lambert will remain with us. We will oversee her integration into the Community. Several of my associates will remain behind to...persuade you to tell us where Nicholas is." Then, with a nasty smile, he added. "So that we can be finished with this business, once and for all."

As he turned and motioned to the one holding her, Natalie saw him exchange a quick glance with Sarah. Signed, sealed and delivered, Natalie thought bitterly, and suddenly it all clicked into place. Nick was as much a means to an end as she was. Sarah, the Enforcers, they were after LaCroix! Involuntarily she began to struggle against the Enforcer who held her. She didn't like being so close to him, didn't like being pinned against her will. In response, he tightened his grip almost painfully, digging his fingers into her side. Had she been mortal she'd be dead. As it was she was incredibly uncomfortable.

The head Enforcer was speaking again. He motioned to the one holding her. "Take her out to the car." Then he addressed her. "This really is for the best, Doctor Lambert. Trust me."

"No!" she said shaking her head. The words were leaving her lips, and had she not been so terrified, she would have been ashamed. "Don't let them take me," she implored, looking over to Janette. God, she sounded pathetic, but she didn't know what else to do as the one holding her started to move, dragging her from the room with him.

She saw Janette reach out to touch LaCroix, and took hope from the look on her face. LaCroix had come to fetch her. He needed her for some reason. For Nick.

There wasn't any chance to determine further what Janette and LaCroix might be planning because in a blur of motion, LaCroix seized the Enforcer standing closest to him, and threw him brutally into a nearby wall. Plaster rained down from minute cracks where he hit. Then, before he had time to recover, LaCroix seized him again, and threw him just as roughly into the leader, sending the two vampires slamming into the opposite wall. This was followed by the sound of breaking glass, as LaCroix reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of alcohol which he threw on the floor in front of him. The leader renewed his struggles to break free, obviously realizing what LaCroix intended.

But it was too late. LaCroix almost casually lit a match and tossed it onto the wet stain on the floor, not even bothering to watch as the alcohol was consumed by flames.

One of the Enforcers caught fire. Just his arm at first, the flames leaping high, but it spread over his body with incredible speed. As the people in the room looked on in shock, he began screaming. The sound made Natalie reflexively cease struggling to clap her hands over her ears. She'd heard that sound before, once a long time ago when she'd been a little girl. The sound of someone being burned to death.

The Enforcer holding her relaxed his grip just slightly, but she was simply too stunned and horrified to even think about pulling free. LaCroix, however, was more than prepared He skirted the burning vampire, who had staggered to his feet only to collapse into a pile of flesh and cloth on the couch, setting it ablaze. LaCroix snatched up a fallen wooden stake.

In seconds the one holding her was impaled to the wall, blood gurgling out of his mouth from the stake that pierced his chest, right through his heart. He was already turning gray and wasting away. He would be dead in seconds.

"Janette, run!" LaCroix ordered over his shoulder as he reached forward to snatch her wrist. His fingers around her arm hurt, but she didn't have time to complain as he wrenched her arm and pulled her after him toward the room.

There was still one more Enforcer in the room, and he moved swiftly once he rose from the floor. With a snarl he leapt after them and seized LaCroix viciously by the shoulder, dragging the two of them back into the center of the room near the remains of the burning vampire. Too late, she turned and saw the wooden stake still in the Enforcer's hands arc toward LaCroix's back and neck. The angle wouldn't kill him, but it would certainly incapacitate him. She shouted out something strangled and inarticulate, but LaCroix had already anticipated this move and managed to turn in time to get his arm up to deflect the blow.

And then, out of nowhere, a dark blur slammed into them which such force it sent the three of them flying. Natalie landed hard on her shoulder and bit her lip at the sharp, brief pain. When she rolled over and looked up, Jose and the Enforcer were on the floor grappling roughly for the wooden stake. Scrambling to her feet she was about to move forward to help him when LaCroix was suddenly between her and the two struggling vampires. Without a moment of hesitation, he turned the burning sofa over onto the two of them.

"No! Jose!" she managed to choke out as she saw the flames renew themselves with the new fuel. "No!" Rapidly her eyes scanned the room, searching for something that would smother the flames, while fighting her own horror. She wouldn't stand helplessly aside as this happened again. But there was only heavy furniture; no rugs. There must be a fire extinguisher somewhere in the building she thought frantically, heading for the door, trying not to gag as the smell of burning flesh filled the air once again.

But LaCroix was blocking her way, grasping her wrist again. "Leave him!" he shouted coldly.

But she couldn't. She wouldn't. The fingers of her free hand tore at his as he again began pulling her after him. She kicked at his legs, and pounded on his back with the heel of her hand as he dragged her along after him, screaming at him to stop and let her go.

LaCroix ignored her until she landed a good solid blow to the back of his neck then started clawing at his face from behind. She hadn't hurt him, but she'd definitely annoyed him. He drew her up beside him then shoved her roughly against the nearest wall. She watched in detached fascination as his fist drew back, knowing exactly what was coming as it connected solidly with her jaw.

For what seemed like a long time she was only aware of the world spinning crazily around her in a whirl of brightly colored patches and strange, incoherent noises. Gradually, she realized she was hanging upside down. He's carrying me over his shoulder, she thought numbly. Then her stomach nearly heaved as she realized they were no longer on the ground. LaCroix was flying above Toronto with her and she was certain she was going to be sick.

She dug her fingers into the leather of his coat to signal him that she was awake and to gain a more secure purchase despite the firm grip he had around her waist. He ignored her and continued flying. Out of the corner of her eye, however, as she lifted her head, she saw another dark shape that she thought might be Janette. And just beyond that was the Toronto skyline.

The sun! She scrabbled frantically at Lacroix's coat again. "The sun!" she shouted. What was he doing? They had to find shelter soon! All her senses were screaming just that to her. Oblivious to the warning tightening of his grip she began kicking and struggling with enough force that she felt them dip suddenly and uncontrollably down toward the earth.

He was shouting something. Hopefully it was directions to Janette to follow but she somehow suspected they were an unflattering string of adjectives describing her. She didn't care. The earth was rushing up to meet them so quickly she had to close her eyes, clinging tightly to him and expecting to slam into the street at any second.

But they didn't. They landed firmly, and before she had a chance to open her eyes LaCroix unceremoniously shoved her off his shoulder onto the pavement like a sack of potatoes. She didn't have time to get her bearings before she heard him snarl. "Get up!" he spat at her, then she felt his cold hand in her hair, hauling her roughly to her feet. With a snarl of her own she reached up and seized his wrist as he dragged her over to where Janette was just pulling open the back door of a Chinese restaurant. Natalie was getting pretty sick and tired of people pulling her hair but LaCroix refused to let go until they were inside and the door firmly back in place.

He heaved her against the counter. "Wait here. Get something to cover yourselves with," he instructed Janette. "Be ready to go when I get back."

And with that he was gone, leaving Natalie to stare questioningly at Janette as she leaned panting against the stainless steel counter.

Janette didn't speak, but simply moved past her, heading for the main dining room. Numbly Natalie followed. "We have to go back for Jose," she said after a few minutes, as she watched Janette pull the tablecloths off of several pre-set tables.

"We can't," Janette said, shaking her head and handing her several of the clothes. "These will have to do," she said.

"We already have," Janette said, turning to fix her with a determined stare. "Natalie, he saved your life twice. Don't throw that gift away by going back there." She paused, and leaned shakily against a nearby table. "We can never go back there," she said wearily.

Natalie was about to argue further with her, but was struck by a sudden sense of fragility in the other woman, as if she would turn to dust at the slightest breeze. "They made you tell them," she said instead.

Surprisingly, Janette shook her head. "No," she said. "They asked me a lot of questions about Nicholas." She swallowed. "But they suspected...something. They knew something was not quite right about me, that something had changed. They were going to take me with them. No doubt to conduct a proper interview," she said bitterly. "But I didn't tell them."

Natalie breathed a small sigh of relief over the fact that Janette's secret was at least partially safe. But there was still Jose to worry about. "Surely most of them will be out looking for us. They won't expect us to go back," she protested. "Janette, I can't just leave him there."

Natalie closed her eyes and swallowed, but when she did so, all she was saw Jose, lying on the floor, flames licking at his clothing, his body. But he hadn't made a sound; no screams. Nothing. He could still be alive.

"Then I'll stay behind, and go back tonight," she ventured, licking her lips and opening her eyes. The images where terrible, and she couldn't bear the thought of him burning to death.

Janette sighed in exasperation. "You think you can spend the whole day here by yourself," she said irritably. "With cooks, and busboys, and waitresses and customers. All that blood just--"

Janette seemed to consider this for several moments. "True, he's not," she said finally. "But he's older, and stronger. And if you give him trouble he won't hesitate to hurt you. Badly."

From the bitterness in Janette's voice, Natalie realized she was speaking from experience.

Before they could continue their conversation, there was a commotion in the back. The two women rushed from the dining room into the kitchen to find LaCroix standing in the darkened vestibule, tendrils of smoke rising from his exposed skin.

He seemed oblivious to the pain, if he even, indeed, felt any, as he strode forward. "I have a truck and a driver," he said curtly. "The sun is up. We must get to Nicholas as quickly as possible. Janette, can you walk in the sun long enough to get to the truck?"

Janette looked dubious for a moment. "I'm not sure," she said after several seconds. "I am not quite a fledgling, but..."

LaCroix nodded. "Then I'll help you," he said, as he began wrapping Janette in the tablecloths, taking care to cover any exposed skin. "Do the same," he said to Natalie over his shoulder as he wrapped his arm securely around Janette's shoulders and began guiding her toward the doorway.

Almost too late Natalie realized he was going to open the door and darted quickly into the safety of the dining room. For a moment she debated whether or not to follow LaCroix's orders. But only for a moment as she realized she'd never make her way back to Sarah's alone, let alone infiltrate it to find Jose. Momentarily defeated, she began wrapping the remaining tablecloths around her shoulders and head, and when she heard the door open again and LaCroix return she slipped back into the kitchen.

He didn't bother addressing her. He simply reached forward and pulled the cloth down over her face. However, instead of guiding her out as he had Janette, he simply picked her up and draped her over his shoulder again. Natalie squawked at that, and was about to protest when she felt them move toward the door. This time, however, LaCroix had wisely pinned her arms to her sides with his so she couldn't use them. Her feet were hampered by the tablecloths as well.

Despite that, Natalie felt herself struggling and screaming as they drew closer to the door. Any second now and it would open and they would be outside. She tried not to react, but the terror was unbearable and she simply couldn't will it away.

The sun! She could feel it burning its way through the thin cloth that protected her and she renewed her struggles. Thankfully, though, LaCroix had obviously parked the truck close to the entrance, and Natalie felt herself once again heaved off his shoulder, but this time onto a cold metal surface. As she disentangled herself from the tablecloths she heard the door to the truck slam shut behind her.

"A frozen foods truck?" Janette said, and the disdain in her voice was evident.

"It will have to do. She struggled too much and prevented me from reaching the car I'd arranged. Blame her." LaCroix countered with a cold glance in her direction as he walked forward. "Drive!" he called out, slapping the wall. At once the truck lurched forward and they began moving. "Nicholas needs you," he spat at her, "But make no mistake, Doctor Lambert. If it were up to me I'd push you out into the sun for what you've done! Or bury you and let you go mad. That would be a fitting punishment for you. And I still might just do it!"

"You bastard!" Natalie hissed, ignoring his obvious threat as she tried to rise to her feet. But the swaying of the truck made that difficult and she decided to remain seated rather than risk the indignity of falling flat on her face in front of him. Somehow, facing up to LaCroix wasn't nearly as difficult in light of the other horrors of the past few days. At least he was something familiar, and he was behaving exactly as she expected him to. And aside from being tired of being pushed around she realized she had a slight advantage. He'd just admitted he needed her. Nevermind that she needed him too. And Janette. There was no escaping that fact either.

"It was necessary. And he was a fool. But at least he bought us some time." He glanced over at Janette. "Thanks to him, we were able to make our escape." Then he turned to glare at her once more. "No thanks to you!"

"Enough!" Janette interjected before Natalie could protest. "I refuse to be trapped here all day listening to the two of you bicker. We've far more important things to worry about." She stopped abruptly, then continued in a softer voice. "How is Nicholas?" Janette asked.

A weariness seemed to settle grimly over LaCroix as he held Janette's gaze, and Natalie had the good sense to hold her tongue. For the briefest of moments she felt a wave of empathy for LaCroix, recognizing this as a rare moment of vulnerability. "Nicholas...is not himself," he said after several long moments. "I...cannot reach him now...at all. I've left him in the care of an old friend. Someone I can trust." Then he sighed. "At least until she hears of this, that is." A stillness seemed to settle over the group, and Natalie could feel Janette's unease. As if sensing it as well, LaCroix glanced over in her direction. "Yes," he said with a small nod. "They'll hunt all of us down for this," he said. "There were too many witnesses. They'll have to, simply to save face as much as anything else."

"The driver?" Janette asked, inclining her head toward the front of the truck.

"He was unfortunate to cross my path this morning. I 'convinced' him that he wanted to spend the day driving. We'll have to share him once it gets dark. There'll be no time to hunt. We must get to Nicholas."

His words sank in; he was talking about hunting. About killing. The nonchalant manner in which he spoke made her sick. She wasn't going to hunt, not if she could help it. And she saw that Janette didn't look particularly comfortable with it either, though she seemed resigned to it, and fairly quickly.

"They were after you," Natalie said, attempting to get off this horrifying subject.

Natalie saw Janette frown at that, then glance thoughtfully over at her. Suddenly, Natalie knew what was going through the other woman's mind; there was more to this than met the eye. Could they have been after LaCroix simply because an opportunity presented itself? Did they have another prize in mind?

Then LaCroix shot another angry glance in her direction before shaking his head sadly. "The things I do for you, Nicholas. The things I do for you."

Natalie leaned back and closed her eyes. The things I do, indeed, a voice inside her echoed LaCroix. She wanted to press LaCroix, pry more details about Nick's condition from him. And find out what Janette was thinking. But she realized there would be time for that later. At the moment, there were other matters to consider; plans to make for eluding the Enforcers, plans to make for survival. The last part made her shiver.

And somewhere, somehow, in the midst of all that Natalie realized there would be Nick to deal with as well.

If she hadn't been sure of it before, Natalie was utterly convinced by now that nothing was ever easy.