TEWS: Third 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 was running in a maze of blank stone corridors lit by candlelight. She was lost. In the distance, she heard a voice, a man's voice vaguely familiar, a comforting lilt to it. "Natalie?" he called. "I'm here!" She moved forward, turned left, then right, the walls never changing in color or texture. Another left, then she ran down a long corridor, the far end of it hidden in shadow, but she knew he was there. Faster. She could hear him calling out to her, but as she moved forward she would catch the faintest glimpse of something, a dark shape moving rapidly away from her, running away from her. At a loss, she stood at a junction and heard him call her name again, from somewhere else deep in the maze....

In frustration she placed her hands against the wall and pushed with all her might. At first nothing, then she felt the cold, slimy stones shift beneath her hands. Digging her heels into the dirt floor she pushed again and the wall fell away in front of her. But when she stepped forward through the dust she found herself standing in another corridor, exactly the same as the one she'd left.

Just one more wall, she thought, placing her palms flat against it. Just one more, then she'd stop and just go back to trying to puzzle her way out of the maze. As before the rocks shifted, then tumbled down at her feet.

This time, instead of a blank wall opposite her, there was LaCroix. And in his arms he held the man she'd killed outside The Raven.

"This is for you," he said, unceremoniously shoving the limp form of the man in her direction. "I hope you don't mind," he added as she caught sight of the two marks on his throat. "But we started without you..."

Her eyes shot open, and she quickly ran a hand through her hair. Thankfully there was no blood-sweat this time, which made Natalie glad for small miracles. But she also decided that becoming a vampire made you dream in cliches. She sat up, rubbed her eyes and stretched. Old habit, that, really. She was completely wide awake and alert, no gunk in her eyes, and her muscles weren't cramped or stiff. In fact, she felt great. She estimated she'd only gotten a few hours of sleep, but was also aware that it was well after dark.

Just then the curtain moved aside, and she quickly pulled the sheet up to cover most of what was revealed by that red nightgown. It was Sarah, looking perfectly groomed and dressed in a simple green blouse and long black wrap- around skirt.

"I thought you were going to sleep all night," she said cheerfully, but Natalie was certain she caught a edge in her voice. "How did you sleep?"

Sarah nodded, glancing over and taking in the four empty bottles lined up neatly in the corner. "Good. Come down to the club when you're ready."

Then she was gone, the curtain falling back into place. Natalie sat there with the covers pulled up to her chin for several moments looking after her, listening to the sounds of the house. As far as she could tell a lot of people were up; some were preparing to go out, some were watching TV or reading. They didn't have names or faces, she didn't know any of them nor did she have any sort of connection to them in any way.

Kind of like her at the moment, she realized. Maybe she had more in common with them than she was willing to admit. More than a few of the people seeking shelter here probably had to abruptly leave their lives behind, just like she had been forced to do.

Throwing back the covers, she rose and began sorting through the clothes Jose had left her the night before. Natalie was relieved; these were definitely far more appropriate than the scarlet negligee he'd brought for her to sleep in. She found a simple but well tailored red cotton blouse. Obviously Jenny had a penchant for red. There was also a pair of black slacks with matching black flats. Jose had a pretty good eye, she had to admit. Everything fit, even the shoes, thought Natalie realized she'd probably never have to worry about blisters from a new pair of shoes ever again.

She didn't have a hairbrush or a toothbrush, and wondered if she might find some in the bathroom. The door was still unlocked from the night before, and the facility was empty. She glanced around on the shelves, but found nothing useful and finally settled for running her fingers through her hair quickly even though it still looked like hell and rinsing her mouth out with water.

The liquid felt and tasted strange in her mouth. She spit it out quickly, then took another sip intending to swallow it. It made it only a short distance down her esophagus before she was retching it back up in the sink along with a small amount of blood. The dry heaves continued for several moments, and Natalie instantly began to sympathize with Nick, to understand why he'd go to such length to avoid having to eat anything if this is what it was always like.

However miserable this was, though, Natalie decided she'd try a couple of other different foods, particularly favorite ones, to see what the results were. There was also gradual exposure to consider; perhaps she'd eventually get to the point where she train herself to tolerate small portions of food. She'd certainly never managed to get that far with Nick, though some of their experiments to that end had shown promise.

This line of thought reminded her once again of her notes, which were sitting in her apartment. They were fairly well hidden, and cryptic enough that they wouldn't present a danger to anyone if they found them. She hadn't been accused of anything; for all she knew, everyone thought she skipped town with Nick. However, her landlord had a key, as did one of her neighbors, who would certainly have gone over to take care of Sydney once the news about her disappearance broke.

Could she get into her apartment? She'd already decided that she'd go out and get as much ready cash as she could if Sarah would allow it. Was there any reason not to stop by her apartment? Her keys were gone, but that wasn't really a problem. She lived high enough up that she hadn't needed to worry about locking any windows other than the one near the fire escape. It would be a simple matter to get in. Even though she'd taken care with the notes, she would still feel better if she could retrieve them, not only for her own peace of mind, but because she also felt she owed it to Nick and the vampire community. Plus she wouldn't mind picking up some of her own clothes as well as a few keepsakes, things from her childhood that she wanted to keep.

But they'd be watching her apartment, in the same way they'd been watching Nick's loft. There'd be a guard out front, probably one or two to keep an eye on entrances, maybe someone keeping surveillance from a nearby apartment. They'd most certainly see her if she went there.

No, she decided there was simply too much risk in returning to her apartment. It was bad enough the authorities would know she was still in the city when she went to get money. She couldn't take the risk, as much as she wanted to. The time for her to visit her apartment had come and gone shortly after she'd woken up, during the time she'd pinned all her hopes on The Raven and there was no use lamenting the fact now when it was too late.

She exited the bathroom and walked across the hardwood floor. There were no obvious windows, but when she looked closely at some of the walls she could see the outlines of them, long bricked up to keep out the lethal rays of the sun. She also realized that this huge, impossible space resulted from the combination of two adjacent buildings, both gutted, and joined together extremely skillfully. Natalie still found herself wondering just how the building managed to remain standing. As far as she could see, all visible means of internal support had been removed. It had to be there somewhere, probably running up through some of the balconies and hidden with walls, but it was not in the least bit obvious.

The screens which had blocked off the rest of the house from the front entrance to the club had been removed, and no one seemed to be around on the main floor. She made her way with little trouble down to the basement which housed the club. The door in the little red hallway stood open, and Natalie could see a few people milling about, and all the lights were on, giving the large space a harsh, uninviting look.

Several people were gathered near the bar, among them Joanne, who glanced up at her when she walked in, then deliberately turned her attention away from her and resumed her conversation with another young woman whom Natalie didn't recognize. She was about to go over and join them, ask Joanne if she was all right, when out of the corner of her eye she saw Sarah wave her over to a secluded table. A bottle and two glasses sat in front of her.

Reluctantly, Natalie changed course and approached Sarah. "Care to join me for breakfast?" Sarah asked, picking up the bottle. The other woman's manner was bright, cheerful. Natalie nodded and took a seat as Sarah filled one of the glasses and pushed it toward her, then filled her own. "I must say, you paint a very different picture than you did last night," she said taking in Natalie's appearance.

Natalie glanced down self-consciously. "I have to thank Jose," she said, looking carefully at the glass. Now that she was well fed and not so desperate she took a good look at the contents of the glass. It made her feel just a little bit squeamish from this vantage point, now that she wasn't quite so starved. She took a long sip from her glass, paying attention to the coppery taste on her tongue. It didn't taste like quite the nectar all the vampire books described it as, though last night's experience in the alley probably warranted something like that term. Now it was cold and thick; satisfying yes, but more a simple nutrient than an experience.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Sarah spoke again. "So, what do you think of my place?" she asked conversationally.

"It's amazing," Natalie said, genuine admiration in her voice. "I've never seen anything like it."

"And you never will again," Sarah said knowingly. "Remind me to tell you about Mel one of these days." Natalie almost asked just then, but Sarah cut her off. "But not now. We have a couple of matters to discuss, don't we?"

Natalie nodded solemnly, and Sarah continued. "You should know that I'm not in the habit of taking in people's mistakes," she said without preamble. It made Natalie wince. She'd avoided thinking of herself that way, but she supposed she was in a sense. She was Nick's mistake. More importantly, she was her own mistake.

"Sarah looked at her intently. "This is my city, now that he's gone. It's easy to forget that with that comes a certain responsibility."

"You know," she said, with a small laugh. "The one you were looking for at The Raven."

"Is that why Joanne was there last night? Is she your spy?" Natalie had no idea why she was suddenly being so bold. Perhaps it was because she was tired of not knowing anything. Perhaps it was because she knew she wasn't going to get any answers without pressing for them.

That made Natalie uneasy, she decided, both because of the unexpected though not unwelcome directness of the response and because of the implications.

"I wanted to make sure he was really gone," she continued. "Finding you was just an accident, a lucky one for you. Joanne says you were starving."

Natalie looked down at the table and nodded, her fingers playing with the stem of her glass. She resisted the urge to take a sip just at that moment. When Sarah reached out to place her hand on Natalie's arm, she flinched, and then casually moved away.

If Sarah was insulted or bothered by that it didn't show in her demeanor However, Natalie knew she'd irritated the other woman from her next words. "I'm afraid we're going to have to postpone our little talk about the rules until later. I've got a business meeting. You shouldn't have slept so long."

There it was again. For all her seemingly kind demeanor, there was definitely something harsh, something accusatory and unforgiving and almost scripted about Sarah. Something Natalie didn't like one bit. There wasn't an ounce of genuine compassion in this woman, she realized.

"So you'll have to entertain yourself for the evening," she said. "There are books. I'll make sure you have plenty to drink." She rose and emphasized her words by pushing the half-empty bottle over in her direction. "Stay out of the club tonight," were her final, brusque words as she walked away abruptly.

Natalie sat there for a moment, then refilled her glass from the bottle on the table, rather glad that Sarah was gone for now. When she looked up, intending to flag Joanne down the other woman was gone as well. Disappointed, Natalie wondered why she was so studiously avoiding her. Was she sorry for what had happened last night? Had Sarah warned her away to keep away?

She'd drink several bottles of this, then head out. Given her uncertainties about Sarah, it occurred to her that she was going to have to pay a price for all this blood sooner or later. Natalie was sure she wasn't going to like what that was. But she'd deal with that later, when she had a chance to pin the other woman down and get some answers, even if it meant giving up a few of her own. It was early evening, and the stores weren't going to be open too much longer. New clothes would have to wait until tomorrow.

In a way, Natalie decided that was actually good. It would give her gradual practice with being out among mortals rather than trying to do too much all at once and getting into trouble. She hadn't asked Sarah if she could go out, and decided that she was just as glad about that as well. There was nothing to indicate that she was a prisoner here, but someone would surely tell her if that was the case when the time came. She still wished someone would accompany her, though, and decided to look for Jose when she was finished with "breakfast."

The blood was helping a lot, she realized. Not only did she feel incredible, no aches or pains or fatigue, but the enhanced sensory acuity was becoming much easier to deal with too. She was getting better at filtering out the extraneous noise of the city, but now, as she thought about it, the sounds came to her. Natalie was pleased to discover she could will them away by focusing on her immediate surroundings again.

While she was out, she'd buy a newspaper. Even though the news might be several days old, she might find some reference to the investigation into hers and Nick's disappearance somewhere in the back of the news section. She mentally calculated the date. It was amazing when she really sat down and thought about it. So little time had actually passed, and so much had happened. Namely that she'd lost her whole entire life, one that, in the cold light of day (or night as the case may be), she had to admit hadn't been that great to begin with, in literally the span of a few short days.

Finishing off the last of the blood, Natalie rose and went to seek out Jose. As she walked across the empty, brightly lit floor of the club, she felt several pairs of eyes on her. Natalie decided she didn't particularly like it. She had the definite sense that they weren't looking out for her as much as they were keeping an eye on her.

Shrugging their stares off, she walked upstairs and glanced around. She didn't see him anywhere. Judging from the amount of hairspray and perfume that filled the air, several of the residents were getting ready for the evening, and as she glanced up at some of the upper rooms she saw that not all of them were female. Deciding that Sarah had some interesting occupants in her building, she turned toward the stairs. Jose had said his room was three flights up, near the stairs. That worked out fine for her since she had to go up that way anyway.

First she'd get her coat and see if she could find at least another bottle of blood. Natalie paused for a moment, thinking how used she was already to drinking the stuff. And also realized that she had no idea where it was kept. Whatever she'd needed had been given to her, appearing mysteriously or waiting for her. Like now, she thought as she walked into the room she was using and saw two bottles sitting there. The empty ones had been removed. Natalie drank one down quickly, and slipped the other one into the pocket of the coat. The neck of the bottle stuck out, and there were no inside pockets, and she decided it made her look like a wino, but she didn't have much choice. Plasma bags were much better for traveling, though.

The coat was decidedly worse for wear, she realized looking at it. Trust Nick to buy and actually wear something as ridiculously flimsy and fragile and practically useless as this. Of course, she'd chosen it too, partially because of all the deep pockets, but also because she'd simply liked it, and always had. Now it was dusty and there were a few stains in the front that Natalie didn't have to guess at to identify. But when she looked at it more closely, she found several small odd rips on the back that she couldn't for the life of her figure where they'd come from'. Had she ripped it on something at The Raven?

Then it dawned on her, and she backed away from the coat as if it were some religious object warding her away, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She willed herself not to gag as the room seemed to spin for a moment. Those rips... She remembered how the man she'd killed had struggled with her, remembered the feel of his hands as they tried to push her away, then as his fingers dug into her back.

She had to get out, had to stand in the fresh air for a bit and be away from all this for a short while. But she wouldn't, couldn't wear the coat so she left it, and the blood behind as she fled from the room and started up the stairs, trying not to think of anything, trying to forget about the ruined coat, and the blood, and a dead man lying in a deserted nightclub across town.

There was one balcony near the room, accessible only by a short jump from the stairs. It was a long drop, not that she needed to worry about it, Natalie mused as she looked over the side of the railing. There were landings as the stairs wound around, and she paused at the one just beneath the room that she thought was Jose's. There were beads strung across the front of it, obscuring the recesses of the room from view. Natalie peered more intently through the beads and thought she saw someone lying haphazardly across a futon. As she decided whether or not to wake him she discerned another body tangled in there with him.

"Okay," Natalie said softly to herself, feeling oddly embarrassed, even though she hadn't actually done anything. Like a voyeur she decided, although Jose--and judging from some of the stuff she'd heard last night--most of the other occupants didn't seem to mind the lack of privacy. Another reason to get out of here, she thought. Sarah had said no mortals were to stay there last night which meant this...person (she couldn't tell if it was male or female) was a vampire as well, Natalie found herself wondering idly as she resumed climbing the steps toward the roof.

At the top she paused and turned, glancing down into the building. As much as she'd felt watched earlier, it was as if she was suddenly invisible now, she thought as she glanced around. That bothered her slightly, and she hesitated, reconsidered putting aside her chagrin and waking Jose. Or even running the idea past Sarah just to make herself feel better. While she wavered, Natalie saw Sarah step out of a room toward the back of the building and walk across the floor to the club. Natalie watched as she carefully glanced around, taking in everyone's whereabouts, including her own. Then she disappeared without a backward glance, her gaze neither pausing nor lingering.

"Okay," Natalie said again. Obviously Sarah knew exactly where she was, even if she didn't know exactly what she was up to. For all Sarah knew, Natalie was just going to go out for a breath of fresh air, she thought as she pushed open the door to the deserted rooftop.

It was a cloudier, slightly cooler night than the last two, with the hint of rain in the air. She stood for a moment getting her bearings, feeling the mist fall lightly on her face, though the damp chill in the air didn't bother her in the least. She'd have to pay close attention to where she went, not straying too far from this place, and so she'd be able to find her way back. While she and Joanne had wandered around town last night she'd tried to followed the route quite closely so as not to lose her way. She'd done a pretty good job, she thought, and had a fairly specific mental map of where in he city she was.

Unfortunately, she wasn't terribly familiar with this part of town, though by her reckoning she thought there might be something to the east that would suffice. She remembered flying over one of those small neighborhood shopping districts, and it seemed logical to assume there'd be a bank there. Whether it had a cash machine or not was another matter.

Double checking to make sure she still had her credit cards and the small amount of cash she'd pulled out of her wallet yesterday, Natalie took to the air. Like dealing with the sensory over-load, flying was easier as well, now that she had consumed a fairly substantial among of human blood, enough to stave off the severe hunger pangs for at least a little while. It was all about blood, she realized. It would always be all about blood.

It was kind of exhilarating, Natalie decided, flying over the city, feeling it move all around her. But she had to be careful not to get too caught up in the excitement and the sensations. She was out to find a bank machine and get some cash. Once that was complete, she'd return to Mel's and try to have a talk with Sarah about leaving town. It was time she made some attempt to regain control of her life again. Wasn't that what this little trip was all about as well, she asked herself.

She landed on a rooftop near a section of town that she thought might yield something and peered over the edge. Cursing to herself she spotted a cash machine on the street about a block and a half away, but there were a lot of people out. It wasn't that late, she realized, and a lot of people were either coming home or going out. It was Friday; she hadn't even thought about the weekend crowd and as a result had chosen something a little too close to the bars.

There was always the option of continuing on, hoping she'd find an area with a little less evening activity. Or she could simply wait until it thinned out a bit, then go down. Quickly, however, she ruled out the second option. She didn't really want to be out any longer than she needed to be. Which had some bearing on the first option as well, she thought. How dangerous would it be, she wondered, if she were to just slip down there, max out her bank account and her credit cards, then slip away into the night again? She'd made it all the way to The Raven without a mishap the other night, though she was well aware that that couple had been in fairly significant danger for a time there. But she'd managed to control herself, and she'd fed very well for the last day and a half. True, the hunger was there, but it was always there lurking beneath the surface. Now, though, it wasn't a stabbing, maddening hunger like it had been that day in The Raven. Could she trust herself?

Natalie stood on the roof for several long moments, carefully weighing the options, assessing her level of hunger. She didn't think she was a danger, and she reasoned that had to count for something. All those other times, she'd known the potential tragedy, both with the couple and then later with the homeless man. She'd been immediately aware of the danger she posed to them. Right now, with the hunger held at bay from feeding well, she felt in control and strong.

Her decision made, Natalie launched herself into the air, deciding to take the extra precaution of dropping to the ground as near to the cash machine as possible. That meant moving over to the building that housed the bank. She'd never noticed the number of alley and obscured, dark corners in Toronto before, but now she was doubly glad for their existence as she landed lightly in the alley next to the bank, then slipped out onto the street. A quick glance up and down indicated that the coast was clear as far as there being too much street or pedestrian traffic, and there was no one currently using the ATM.

Natalie dug into her pocket and quickly pulled out the three credit cards she'd happened to be carrying with her that night, and her ATM card. All of them had a maximum cash advance limit of $500. She didn't have huge resources as far as money was concerned, and once she used these cards it would be difficult to empty out her bank accounts since she had a feeling they'd be watching her bank activity. If she used all four of these cards, she'd have two thousand dollars, more than enough to buy a few supplies and get out of the city. Not nearly enough for what she had a feeling Sarah's place was going to cost her over time.

And, she also reasoned, she wasn't exactly accused of any crime as far as she knew, and therefore there wasn't anything the authorities could actually do to prevent her from accessing her money. Which meant she could get more tomorrow until her accounts were empty. If they used it to track her, she'd have to double back at least once, when she decided where she was heading.

As she fed the first card, her Visa card into the machine, she took a moment to look over her shoulder. It was still clear; no one seemed to think a woman getting cash from a cash machine was anything odd, and why should they. But she could feel the press of mortal metabolisms, mortal blood all around her. She forced herself not to relax as she withdrew the cash for each of her cards until she had $2000 in bills tucked into her pocket.

"Now all I'd need is to get mugged," she said to herself, turning away from the machine, her ATM card in hand. It didn't seem likely, though, not with all the people about. And now she was certainly more than capable of defending herself from would-be attackers, thought the thought made her feel cold inside.

A newspaper, she reminded herself. She'd meant to buy a newspaper while she was out too. There was a newsstand about a block away, near the subway station. She'd grab the evening edition of the Toronto Star and be on her way, saving it to read at Mel's since she was thankfully banished from the club.

That's when she noticed the squad car. It turned the corner onto the street on which she was standing. Hastily, Natalie turned and walked in the opposite direction, fighting down the urge to just take to the sky and run. If she acted normal, there was no reason in the world for them to suspect anything unusual and out of the ordinary. Trying to run, even with vampiric speed, would only draw attention to her and she couldn't afford that right at the moment.

When they drove past her, though the car moved more slowly than she thought it should have, Natalie breathed a sigh of relief. In all likelihood they were on patrol and hadn't noticed her, and were now continuing on about their business. So she decided to continue on about hers as quickly as possible. Ducking her head, she doubled back, heading toward the alley she'd originally dropped down in, deciding an evening paper was just too risky right now. Jose could get her one later if she still wanted it, she thought.

"Doctor Lambert?" a male voice called to her from over to her left before she'd gotten more than a dozen yards. Out of instinct, she turned her head, and saw that the squad car that had passed her earlier was pulled up along side her. Quickly she realized they'd driven past her, then backed up beside her while her attention had been on making her escape. Damn, why hadn't she bothered to pay attention? Why had she assumed she was safe?

But the mistake had been made. One of them, the one in the passenger seat was getting out of the car and walking around it toward her. She didn't move; it simply didn't occur to her at first to run. In her world, in her old life, you simply didn't do that. Police officers were there to help; she worked with them every day, for heavens sake. You didn't run from them.

It started kicking in then. Common sense was telling her to get the hell out of there before something horrible happened. She should never have allowed them to see her, should never have reacted to her name. They'd want her to go with them down to the station. They'd want to ask her if she knew where Nick was. That couldn't happen; it would be better for everyone if she disappeared along with Nick and now it was too late for that. She'd screwed up.

Without thinking she began to back away from him, some part of her mind telling her to slip away, get into the alley away from all these witnesses and up into the air. As she moved, he said something, and the other one was out of the car moving toward her as well. She turned and quickly ran down the street, turned the corner rapidly, hoping to get out of their line of sight and into the nearest shadow to make her escape. But as she rounded the corner another squad car was sitting there. Waiting for her? Had they called for back-up?

It confused her for a moment, and without thinking she slowed, then instinctively turned and run back the way she came. And instead, ran right into the arms of the officer who had first approached her

She grabbed his neck. She'd intended to just push him away, but instinct and terror and panic drove her to wrap her fingers around his neck. She heard a sickening crunch of bone and cartilage as his trachea collapsed beneath her palm.

His partner was coming up as she dropped him numbly to the ground and looked up. The officer slowed, and pulled out his gun as he looked down at the fallen man.

For a minute, all she could do was stand there and look at him, not quite able to comprehend what she had done. She hadn't meant to kill him. When she opened her mouth to tell the one advancing on her that very thing no sound would come out.

He raised his gun and was shouting something at her, words she couldn't, in her present state of shock and disbelief comprehend. Something about standing still and keeping her hands where he could see them. Another pair of officers were coming up behind her, a man and a woman. She was also vaguely aware that a small crowd of people were gathering.

She had to get out of here. It was no longer a matter of just being detained and asked questions about Nick. Now they would arrest her for murder, lock her away in a cell. She had too many things to hide now.

Whirling she faced down the two police officers approaching her from behind and hissed at them to warn them away. The first officer, now behind her, was shouting something, and it was then that she realized she'd changed; her fangs were down, her eyes no doubt glowed. It wasn't hunger that had brought this on. It was an instinctive defensive posture, brought on by fear.

Some part of her knew she could easily tear the throats out of all three of the remaining police officers with barely any effort at all. That thought drove her up into the sky, heedless of all the witnesses. More people would die if she didn't get away right now; she couldn't bring herself to care who saw.

Something tore and burned its way through her ribs and burst out of her chest in a splatter of blood and tissue. There was pain, though she barely noticed it as the sensation was repeated, and an unyielding piece of metal lodged itself somewhere deep in her abdomen.

They were shooting at her, all three of them now, as three more slugs slammed into her body before she could get very far. It distracted her, and the pain was worse now, so much so that she dropped back to the ground, staggering and stumbling against the wall. Huddling there for a moment she marshaled her resources and tried desperately to normalize her features, to drown out the sound of people shouting at her, punctuated by their accelerated heartbeats. An officer was approaching her again, slowly, cautiously, and he was still talking to her. She raised her head and snarled loudly at him, and saw him jump back away from her quickly, the gun back up and on her.

She rushed them, seizing one and all but throwing him out of the way as she attempted to reach the alley. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him slam into the side of the building, and the smell of his blood burst across her senses. He left a trail of it as he slid down the side of the building.

Then she was in the air and the ground, the chaos and violence falling away from her as she flew blindly through the sky. At some point she stopped to get her bearings, dropped down onto a deserted roof, hands resting on knees and gasping as if she'd just finished running a marathon. She had to return to Mel's, tell them what she had done. It was the only place she could go.

By the time she landed on the roof of Mel's she was sobbing. And Jose was standing out there fanatically watching her approach.

"What happened?" he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders as she dropped to the roof and collapsed into a heap. She shook him off roughly, not wanting to be touched, and retreated quickly to the edge. Natalie felt weak and disoriented and hungry. But all she could do was fold her arms across her body and weep. There weren't even words.

A commotion sounded on the roof at some point, and Natalie felt herself being hauled to her feet and dragged inside by large, rough hands that were vaguely familiar. No noise filtered from anywhere in the house; it was as still and quiet as a tomb at midnight, save for the clumping of feet against wood and her own whimpering.

The blow, an open handed slap that stung across her face, didn't do anything to draw her out, but the second one which was considerably harder did. She felt her jaw dislocate painfully from the blow, and then someone was shaking her so hard she was sure her teeth rattled in her head.

Natalie had never considered herself one of those hysterical females who needed to be slapped into comprehension. But then, neither had she ever considered herself a murderer, and she had just finished killing one police officer, quite possibly two. She couldn't gather her wits, couldn't focus on anything around her, and quite honestly had absolutely no idea how she'd managed to find her way back to this place. Some bizarre homing instinct or something, she thought idly.

She'd mostly stopped crying, and realized that Jose was cradling her head in his lap, his arms around her protectively.

"I'm sorry, Sarah! I'm sorry, this was my fault," he said. "I didn't watch her carefully enough. This was my fault."

Heels clacked against the floor. "First," Sarah said, and Natalie could clearly hear the venom in her voice, "I want to know what happened. Then we'll talk about who's responsible." Fingers grasped her chin, forcing her head up so that she had to look into Sarah's face. "Natalie, what happened?" When Natalie didn't answer right away, she turned to someone. "Check the news, and get someone on the scanner." When she turned back to Natalie, she leaned down and grabbed her hair, pulling Natalie's head up sharply. "Tell me what happened. Why did you go out?"

"I--I went..." Natalie began, her voice weak. "I went out to get some money," she managed to get out. "I thought I'd be okay."

"F... There w-were four." She was shaking now, and her teeth were chattering. "And people." There was another crowd gathering; she had the sense of a large number of people clustered around her.

Natalie nodded. "They recognized me. I tried to fly away, after--I broke his neck and..." She began to retch then, small droplets of blood staining the hand she had over her mouth, and Jose was pressing part of his t-shirt to her lips.

"It's all right," he murmured softly. Then he said in a louder voice, "Get her some blood!"

"Hold off on that," Sarah said sharply, cutting him off. "You broke the neck of one of them. What about the other?"

Natalie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. "I...shoved him out of the way. I pushed him too hard. I think I killed him."

Sarah released her hair and leaned back away from her. "So you didn't drain either one of them?" she asked.

"Good," Sarah said, and the sense of relief that was coming off the other woman was almost palpable, even to Natalie's somewhat confused state. "It'll be easier to cover up." She turned and was about to issue several orders to that effect when the woman Sarah had dispatched to check the police scanners returned. "Well?" Sarah asked shortly.

"They're both dead. Broken neck and head injury. And they were already looking for her."

"They found a homeless guy across town. Her wallet and keys were found near the body. Pulled some prints off of him too, and they're betting they'll match."

Jose went absolutely still; she felt him stiffen, and when Natalie looked up, he was staring at Sarah accusingly, fury etched clearly across his handsome features. He opened his mouth to speak, shifting her weight in his hands slightly.

"Do I want to know?" Sarah asked, her tone indicating that she clearly did not.

The woman paused for a moment, looking down at Natalie who saw something indefinable in her eyes, something akin to pity.. But before Natalie could do anything more than attempt to identify it, she was looking away, licking her lips. "It happened right in front of a crowd of people. And...there's talk of a video tape."

The entire room seemed to burst at just that moment. For her part, Sarah turned quickly away from the poor woman bearing the bad news and clutched at her head, gathering up her long curly hair into her hands in frustration. Several of those who stood nearby cursed, and more than one leaned toward her threateningly.

There was nothing forgiving or sympathetic in Sarah's expression as she finally turned to her and spoke. "She's my responsibility. It's up to me to take care of her. I have to make sure nothing like this happens again." Then she turned to Dave, the bouncer who'd let her in to the club last night, the one she'd gotten into trouble. Sarah nodded at him and said decisively, "Take her up to the roof and stake her. Leave her out there for the sun."

She wasn't hearing this, she couldn't be hearing this, Natalie thought to herself even as Jose rose with her and pressed her behind him, shielding her protectively with his body. "No!" he said loudly. "You can't."

Someone grabbed her, yanked her away from Jose. She saw that they grabbed him too, held him down in the corner, as she felt Dave's meaty hand wrap itself around her neck and shoulder. There were shouts and cries from all around her.

Dave was taking the opportunity to work the group up into a horrible mob mentality, alternating between dragging her behind him up the steps, and shoving her forward like some awful trophy, his grip never relaxing. But she noticed one or two, including the woman who'd provided all the information, who hung back, seemed unsure and reluctant.

At first she fought. And kicked. And screamed. And clawed. But Dave was much stronger, and he dragged her up the stairs, though the doorway and out into the night. Once on the roof he flung her to the ground and stood over her, holding a large wooden stake. There were hands wrapped firmly around her arms and legs. They held her spread- eagled down on the roof.

It was at that point that she decided to stop struggling, decided to stop fighting to stay alive. Because it occurred to her that perhaps this was the right thing, the best thing. The only thing that would prevent her from killing or hurting anyone else.

Natalie looked up at Dave with the stake as he towered above her and wondered how much it would hurt. And for how long.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Natalie allowed her head to fall back against the blacktop of the roof. She wouldn't watch. There wasn't any need.. Richard had died this way. Considering her role in that disaster as well as her most recent sins, it seemed proper and just that she should die this way as well.

This is where Nick would come crashing through the nearest window, she thought. Except there weren't any windows up here, and Nick wasn't anywhere near enough that he could fly to her rescue; he probably didn't even know she was in need of a rescue And Natalie was no longer certain she even wanted one.

They were all gathered around her in a ring, watching. Some with anticipation, some with trepidation, some with obvious doubt and discomfort. All unable to turn away. Maybe some of them were curious, she thought, wanting to know exactly how it was done, or what happened afterwards, questions she'd asked herself from time to time since that night she'd met Nick.

Someone broke into the ring. Her rescuer, Natalie thought distractedly as Jose pushed several of them aside and entered the circle to approach them. No doubt he'd managed to break free from those who'd grabbed him downstairs.

Jose headed directly toward Dave, and it was clear he intended to stop him. Dave saw it too, and as Natalie looked up at the large vampire standing over her, she saw that his eyes were cold and full of hate. And she sensed the movement of the stake toward her rather than saw it.

He reached them just as Dave brought the wooden stake down toward her with a savage thrust of his arm. Jose tried to block it, tried to knock it out of the way, and partially succeeded. Dave had been aiming to impale her through her heart; Natalie could tell by the angle with which he brought the piece of wood down toward her. But Jose managed to deflect it enough so that the wood buried itself in through her upper right lung, just under the collarbone and near the shoulder. It went all the way through with a horrible crunching and sucking sound as it tore its way through bone and tissue and flesh, and the tip of it sank several inches into the roof.

Those who'd been holding her released her as the stake slammed into her, and Natalie was certain she heard some of them laughing. Whether they were laughing at her, or at Dave for having missed she wasn't sure, nor did she really care all that much. Everything was lost in the excruciating, burning pain raging through her where the stake had entered her body and in the shriek that rose unbidden from her lips.

Her left hand, as soon as it was released, wrapped itself around the piece of wood and tugged in an ineffectual attempt to pull it from her body. It hurt more than anything in her experience. More than the bones she'd broken the other night. More than the bullet wounds from earlier. Those had been over quickly, had healed quickly. But this... Natalie could feel the connective tissue and the cartilage attempt to knit itself back together inside her, only to be prevented by the stake, causing more pain as half-healed nerve endings rubbed themselves raw against the foreign object. She was aware of every single splinter of wood as it rubbed against the bones and tissue inside her body. But pulling on it only made the pain worse, as did movement, something she discovered when she reflexively brought her knees up in an attempt to curl around the stake. So instead, she laid there, pinned to the roof, and whimpered, hoping someone would pull it out and dreading the thought at the same time.

They were still watching, all of them gathered about, as Jose bent over her. He placed his foot lightly on her chest and wrapped his hands around the piece of wood. But Sarah stepped between him, and through the raging pain she heard her speak.

"No, Jose! It's over. Let her be." Sarah's posture was defensive, her whole demeanor full of menace and warning.

"She's in pain," he said harshly. Jose looked past Sarah, down at her, scowling. "Do you know who she is?" he asked Sarah. Then he repeated the question to the group at large, shouting it out to them. "Do you know who she is?"

"Enough!" Sarah commanded sharply, even as Natalie, through her haze of agony, saw several of them nod.

"She saved us from the fever!" Jose continued, ignoring Sarah's warning. "She saved me. And you!" he added pointing to someone in the crowd. "And you, and you, and you! And she covered up for you when you thought the asteroid was coming and fed on anything you could get your hands on!" This last was said with one accusing finger pointed at a young woman standing near the edge of the crowd, a teenage girl with short black hair and too much makeup.

It was silent on the roof now, although Natalie could hear herself making small whimpering noises. She hated it, but she couldn't help it either. They were alternating between looking at her and looking at Jose.

"This is Natalie Lambert," Jose continued, his voice dropping down now that there was no longer any need to shout to get their attention. "A week ago she was the county coroner. Now she's one of us."

"And such a lovely way of showing your appreciation," another voice called sarcastically from near the edge of the roof, a voice distinctly familiar to Natalie. The last time she'd heard it, it had sounded tentative, unsure and a little shy, though mixed with a newfound resolve. Now, all the familiar arrogance and haughty superiority was back.

With an effort, Natalie lifted her head and saw Janette standing near the edge of the roof, the city making an impressive, almost dazzling backdrop behind her. To her eyes Janette, as always, looked beautiful; now, in addition to that she looked impossibly heroic as her gaze swept across the scene to rest on Sarah.

Sarah's reaction was immediate. Sarah stepped forward defiantly, placing herself between Natalie and Janette, placing her hands on her hips.

Janette looked past Sarah down at her. "I can see that," she said, stepping forward and brushing disdainfully past Sarah. "Interesting approach." Without waiting for Sarah to respond, she leaned forward and looked down at Jose who was crouched next to her. "Pull the stake out," she said softly, resting her hand lightly on his arm. Then she turned and glared at Sarah, and Natalie was certain she was daring the other woman to interfere.

Sarah remained quiet. Following Sarah's lead, no one else stepped forward to question Janette's order.

Tears were gathering in the corner of her eyes, not at all helped by the pain caused when Jose rose and grasped the stake again. Once again he lightly placed his foot on her abdomen and leaned down to grasp the top of the wood with both hands.

"No kidding," Natalie managed to gasp out, then reached up and grasped the collar of his t-shirt, twisting the fabric tightly in the fingers of her left hand. She watched as Jose prepared himself, then paused, but didn't realize that someone else had approached until a cool, dry hand dropped over her mouth. Natalie looked up to see the teenager Jose had pointed out earlier.

She smiled, her expression a mixture of reassurance and apology. "To stop you from screaming," she said. "Go ahead and bite down if it hurts too much."

Natalie wished everyone would stop warning her about the pain and just get it over with. Instead, she silently shook her head, wincing at the renewed pain, then turned to look at Janette, who was standing just behind Jose's shoulder. And just behind her Sarah watched, her expression composed.

"One," Jose said, tightening his fingers around the wood. "Two," he added a second later. Natalie closed her eyes and waited for three.

And instead felt an excruciating pressure as Jose leaned his weight on the foot he had resting against her and gave the stake a mighty jerk. Natalie felt it rip free of the roof beneath her and move upward through her upper ribcage, leaving behind dozens of small splinters imbedded in the wound, The sudden pain caused her fingers to contract, and she vaguely heard the fabric of Jose's shirt tear, felt it give in her hand as her body arched, pulled upward by the pain and by the momentum of the stake as it pulled free from her body.

She screamed. Or rather tried to, the sound coming out as a long, hoarse roar against the splayed fingers of the hand pressed across her lips.

"We have to clean the wound, before it heals with all the wood in it," she heard Jose say from a great distance. Then she shrieked again as she felt Jose scoop her up into his arms like a child, the movement causing spikes of agony to travel throughout her body.

As they moved, her right arm hung limp at her side. She couldn't move it, but it swayed with each step Jose took, and Natalie wanted to die every time that happened. Instead, she pressed her good hand tightly against her face, and willed herself not to scream. She wasn't particularly successful.

"I want a private room" she heard Janette order from behind her somewhere, talking presumably to Sarah. "First aid supplies. And blood," she added. "I must congratulate you Sarah. You've managed to incapacitate the one person here who's qualified to treat injuries." The scorn in her voice was evident, but beneath that was an edge of bitterness, of fury barely held in check. "Once this matter is settled, I'll deal with you," Janette continued.

If Sarah had anything to say about all of this Natalie didn't hear it as they moved down the steps. At some point she stopped caring about the many conversations going on around her and just focused on blocking out the torment her injuries were causing her. She barely noticed as they moved into an isolated part of the house, and Jose laid her gently down on a soft mattress.

He didn't waste any time, but leaned over her and tore most of the already ruined blouse down and away from her shoulder to get better access to the wound. Natalie couldn't resist, and twisted her head to the side to examine the injury as well. It was a large, angry hole in her chest, but Natalie realized it was already starting to heal. Reaching up with her left hand, Natalie gently probed the edges of the wound with her fingers, trying not to wince, until Jose grasped her fingers gently and moved her hand away.

"Natalie?" Janette's voice, coming from somewhere near her head, broke through the haze. Natalie tilted her head back to look up at her. "Tell Jose what to do," she said softly, but in such a way that it never occurred to Natalie not to obey her.

At first she couldn't speak, and so she simply nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing in an attempt to prevent more tears from forming. Then in a raw voice she addressed Jose. "Water. Flush out the wound. Get," she paused to draw a breath, attempting to remain calm. "Get most of...wood out. Keep wound open." Just getting those few words out seemed to sap all her energy, and as Jose left her side to fetch water, and other first aid supplies, she closed her eyes and attempted to rest. Natalie had never had occasion to clean this type of wound for Nick, but she'd given it a lot of thought. Get the debris out, and let nature take care of the rest she'd decided. The same principle applied to bullet wounds. Which reminded her she had one inside her that she should probably have removed as soon as she was able.

Jose returned after what seemed like hours. He knelt beside her and gently slid his hands underneath her shoulder blade, lifting her slightly from the bed. Natalie tried not to whimper as he slid a folded towel beneath her.

"The wound's almost closed up," he said, and the edge of panic in his voice wasn't lost on her.

"You'll have to open it," she replied weakly. She could still feel the wood in there, despite the fact that a good portion of the damage had healed itself up. There was still enough in there to cause a substantial amount of pain. If she was going to function again she would have to have it removed. "Knife," she managed to add. She wanted to tell him to sterilize it, but realized it didn't really matter now, that at this point it was merely a matter of protocol.

He'd thought to bring one, and as the tip of it pressed against her flesh, as Jose hesitated, Natalie shivered. For all that she'd been through this evening, this small amount of pain shouldn't bother her. But it was going to hurt and she'd had enough hurt tonight, she thought plaintively. Natalie had to actively fight the urge to pull away as she felt the cold metal slide into the newly healed flesh.

Janette remained silent, watching, but at some point she realized Janette's fingers were twined with her own. Natalie had no idea if she'd unconsciously taken Janette's hand, or whether Janette had reached out to comfort her. In the end she decided that it didn't really matter, and just gave the hand in hers a reassuring squeeze, which was answered after several seconds.

Then she reluctantly let go, because it became clear that she was going to have to actively participate in this. Jose was having a great deal of trouble cleaning out the wound, and was extremely unnerved and very clumsy. Painfully clumsy. Natalie finally reached up and placed her fingers over his, taking the knife from his trembling fingers. She was too weak for this; her limbs felt heavy and even though she could distinctly feel the location of every splinter she didn't do much better than Jose as she dug into the muscle and tissue, willing herself to ignore the pain it caused.

After a time, she'd gotten as many as possible from the front, and instructed Jose to roll her over onto her side. The rest was up to him as she rested weakly against the mattress, her hand limp in Janette's. She wanted blood. She needed blood, but she understood why they didn't give her any. It kept her from healing up too fast.

As Jose continued to alternate between slicing open the path of the stake and digging for stray pieces of wood Natalie began to feel a familiar cold seep into her. She'd probably lost quite a bit of blood up on the roof, though that was something that had always amazed her about Nick; he never seemed to bleed much.

But the cold. She'd felt it before, an awful chill seeping into her bones, making her feel heavy and weak, a terrible ache in her joints. The world around her seemed bright yet it seemed as if there was a wall up between her and it. She could see but it was as if she couldn't comprehend; it was as if her mind had stopped processing the information that went in.

When had she felt this way? To distract herself from the immediate agony Natalie tried to pinpoint it. She felt like she was dying, and the thought sent the chill seeping even deeper into her innards. This is how she'd felt as Nick had drained her. The feelings were the same she was sure, some awful version of state-dependent learning kicking in as the details flooded back, too many to process in detail. The things she'd seen as he drank from her, the sensation completely fulfilling and horribly obscene at the same time.

In revulsion, she'd wanted to push him far away. In ecstasy, she'd wanted to stay there forever.

A sharp jab brought her to the present, and she gasped. Jose paused, then continued to examine the wound for several more moments, dabbing liberal amounts of water into it. "I think I've got it all," he said. Natalie concentrated on the place where the stake had gone through her, and after a moment nodded. Between the two of them they'd managed to take care of the worst of it, though Natalie still felt a twinge or two deep inside. She'd deal with it later when she felt stronger. "Thank you," she whispered as he dabbed at it with a towel, getting up what was left of the blood and water, then gently rolled her onto her back. Still unable to move her right arm, she reached up with her left and grasped his hand, not minding the blood, her blood, that stained his fingers.

"Will she be all right?" she heard Jose ask, his voice strained with worry. "She looks bad."

"Of course," Jose replied, and Natalie imagined the two of them huddled together near the doorway, talking in whispers. They made a nice looking couple, she thought idly, both dark and exotic looking.

She felt rather than heard Janette approach the bed, then felt the mattress shift as she sat down. "The tape," Natalie managed to mumble. She felt numb, as if some excruciating cold had swept in and sucked out all her energy.

"We'll worry about that later, hm?" Janette said lightly. Then Janette's fingers slipped beneath her neck, and Natalie felt herself being gently lifted. With a supreme effort she managed to open her eyes.

Janette sat near her. It took several seconds before Natalie could focus on her. "This will help," Janette said, lifting her wrist to her mouth. As Natalie watched, Janette bit lightly down on her wrist. When she tilted her head back, her lips and teeth were stained slightly crimson.

Janette's grip on her neck became firmer, and she pressed the wounded wrist to her mouth.

"No!" Natalie said, disgust flooding through her as she tried to turn her head away, though she was far too weak to put up much of a resistance. But Janette held her tightly, and continued to hold her wrist to her mouth.

"What you really need," Janette said softly, conversationally, as the first drops made their way past her lips and onto her tongue, "is the blood of your maker." There was a pause as Janette sighed, a sound full of exasperation and sadness, a sound Natalie knew all too well herself. "But this will have to suffice."

It wasn't like the bottled blood, and it wasn't the same as when she'd taken it from the homeless man. It wasn't warm, no beating heart forced it into her mouth. In fact, Natalie was rather disgusted to discover she had to actively draw upon Janette's wrist, and since Janette seemed fairly set on her doing so, Natalie didn't see that she had much choice, though it struck her as uncomfortably intimate. Janette continued talking to her, soft words meant to soothe, but Natalie was no longer listening. She'd given up trying to escape Janette's grip, and was working on getting past her revulsion at drinking from her. The small sucking sound she made against Janette's skin weren't helping, she decided.

But there was something about it, something safe and familiar in the taste as it passed her lips and traveled down into her belly. And before she was quite aware of it, she had seized Janette's hand with her good one, holding her arm in place as she drank lest Janette try to take it away. Janette's blood drove away the coldness that was settling in her bones and made her feel strong, alive. Natalie clung to it, clung to the comfort and the familiarity she suddenly found in both the simple mortal act of holding a friend's hand and in the stranger yet more satisfying contact of the blood of her own kind as it flowed into her.

When Natalie closed her eye, images passed in front of her in the darkness. Many of them were unrecognizable, scenes from other places and other times. Predominant among them were three men. A dark-haired man his face lit by the flickering of flames from a nearby fire. LaCroix, his face gilded by moonlight. And Nick also lit by fire, but one that raged out of control as red as his eyes as he tilted his head back. Natalie tried to hold on to that one, that last one, to look for just a moment longer on the image of Nick's face.

An image that was wrenched away at the exact moment that Janette pulled her wrist free. Natalie moaned in protest as Janette reached over and picked up a bottle, holding it to her lips. It wasn't the same and Natalie realized she was vaguely disappointed as she drank deeply from the bottle. She finished that and two more before Janette allowed her head to fall back against the pillow.

"Sleep now," Janette said, gently smoothing the hair back from her forehead. Again, Natalie gave no thought to her words except to obey them and closed her eyes, drifting off immediately. She felt Janette pull the remainder of her ruined clothes off, then pull something soft and silky across her body.