Black Moves
By Knightraven
Copyright 1999
 
 
 
Carefully, he marked a precise cross in bold, blood-red ink upon the chartpaper. He stepped back 
from the wall and smiled. It was a smile that would chill a human heart, and perhaps a few that weren't 
so human. He replaced the cap on the red marker and returned it back to its individual pen-holder. 
Compulsively, he meticulously straightened the collection of already perfectly-aligned pens, pulling each 
one out of its designated holder and replacing it with complete precision.
He moved over to his wardrobe to methodically remove his clothes and replace them with a fresh set--
the same dark brown trousers, blue shirt, underwear, brown shoes--all the same. He walked carefully 
to the refrigerator and pulled out a sealed container. Cautiously, he wiped the plastic around the lid 
before opening it and drinking down the contents. 
He replaced the container in the fridge and paced calmly back over to the white Formica desk. He 
selected a clean, white piece of paper and a black marker pen. Scrupulously, he printed upon the 
perfect piece of paper, then carefully folded it and placed it into a black envelope. He addressed the 
envelope with equal care. Rising to his feet, he stood holding the envelope to his chest. He turned to 
face the other side of the room. He hardly ever went there. The chaos corner. No, he never went 
there. not until it was time. 
He went over to another corner of the large, sparsely-furnished room. Sitting in front of the fireplace 
was a single piece of furniture, a small table, and upon it was an elegantly-carved chess set. Several 
moves had been played. A single white piece had already been taken. He carefully studied the board, 
then picked up a white pawn and made a move. He took the fated black pawn from the board and 
placed it carefully into a small plastic bag, just big enough for the single piece. He placed the bag into an 
antiquated cigar box, closing the lid. Frowning slightly, he straightened and turned from the table. 
Still clutching the envelope, he pulled on his coat and left the room, closing and methodically turning all 
four deadbolts before continuing on down the hallway. 
He walked quickly from the apartment building and down the damp, garbage-strewn street. The sun 
was dimming rapidly; he wouldn't have much time.he would have to hurry. 
Stepping confidently from the second bus he had traveled upon to get here, he crossed the busy street, 
ripe with rush-hour traffic, and went straight to the public mail box on the corner. He smiled once again 
as he glanced at the envelope in his hand before depositing it into the slot.
"Hold still!"
The model squirmed, shifting his feet yet again.
"I am uncomfortable," he complained.
"No you're not. I bet you could stand there for days if you had to."
"I've been standing here for four hours."
"I'm almost done," she told him.
A few minutes passed.
"I'm cold."
"No you're not." 
"I feel ridiculous."
"You look beautiful."
He was silent for a moment before admitting,
"Yes, well, I have never done 'this' before."
"Really? Never?"
"Yes, really."
Jordan smirked as she thought.
"You're smirking," Lacroix said tersely from his position across the room.
"I just find it hard to believe that you of all people have never had their portrait done before."
"Of course I've had portraits commissioned before." He paused and glared at his lover. "I've just never 
let anyone paint me nude."
Jordan smiled as she dabbed more paint to her canvas. She had acquired a great love of teasing him. 
What could she do, he screamed to be the target of practical jokes and the occasional ribbing. Of 
course, nobody else would ever dare attempt this, lest they be killed for their effort. She, however.
"I feel extremely privileged, my love."
"As you should." A smug smile caused his eyes to sparkle.
"Ok, you can move now."
Lacroix gracefully stretched his long limbs as Jordan walked across the room to place her brushes and 
palette into a container of metholated spirits to soak, ready for cleaning.
Lacroix, brimming with long-restrained curiosity, went straight over to the canvas standing in the center 
of the work area which Jordan had set up in her apartment.
He stood gloriously naked, gazing thoughtfully at his portrait. 
"Well? What do you think?" she asked, wrapping an arm around his bare waist. 
Lacroix brought a critical finger to his lips as he continued to stare at himself standing, facing away from 
the artist, his arms crossed regally with his head lowered, glancing back over his shoulder toward her. It 
was a wonderfully sensual and arousing piece of work. But instead of answering, he looked down at her 
smiling face and tilted her chin up toward him. Leaning down, he drew her lips to his, and kissed her 
with all the passion he had been restraining as he had stood there, watching her gaze at him as she 
painted.
Jordan brushed her hands down his shapely chest to his flanks; she'd been dying to caress him all night. 
She felt him undo the buttons of her blouse and push it off her shoulders. They continued to attack each 
other's lips as Lacroix removed the rest of Jordan's clothing.
"So," she mumbled through their lips, "does this mean you like it?"
"Hmm. Let me show you how much." He pulled her down onto the nearby bed, never relinquishing his 
hold on her mouth.
"They're going to find out sooner or later," Natalie said, bending over Nick's desk as she handed him an 
autopsy report. She was continuing a conversation they had started earlier that night.
"I suppose so," he grumbled.
"Have you told Tracy?" she asked him.
"Are you kidding?! It'd be all over the city by the time I'd finished speaking," he exclaimed, waving a 
hand toward the windows.
"Why don't you just tell them all and get it over with?" she asked him, crossing her arms. Nick now 
knew for certain that he was going to have to do it. But he had to try just one last time. He whined 
pitifully,
"But Nat, they'll do things! Notes, cards, slapping me on the back--you know how I don't like being 
touched! Jokes, comments, it'll be endless! Every time we are even in the same room together they'll be 
watching us! They won't leave us alone for weeks!"
She just stood by his desk with her eyebrows raised. Nick heaved a tortured sigh and slowly rose to his 
feet. He huffed out a laugh and smiled. He pecked Natalie on the lips and straightened. Stepping away 
from his desk, he held up his hands and called for everyone's attention.
"Everyone! Please, can I have your attention! I've something to say!" The room slowly hushed and 
turned toward Nick, stopping whatever work they were doing. Tracy looked up from her paperwork, 
thinking good thoughts about what he was going to say. He had their complete and undivided attention.
"As you all know, Natalie and I have been officially together for almost a year now." He watched with 
amusement as grins began to appear around the room, obviously guessing what he was about to say. 
The biggest and broadest belonged to Captain Reese, who was by now standing in his office doorway. 
Nick pulled Natalie close to his side and kept his arm around her waist. "So, I would like to take this 
moment to formally announce that Natalie and I are getting married." 
Tracy launched herself at Natalie, hugging her first, then moving on to give her partner a big, long hug." 
Thank god," she said to him. "I thought I was going to have to wait forever!" she laughed, sounding as 
equally relieved as she did happy. She stood back from his grinning face to let the other well-wishers get 
to him. She briskly turned to Detective York.
"Come on, cough it up," she demanded, holding out her hand. York rolled his eyes and sighed. He 
thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and slapped it into Tracy's waiting 
hand. 
"Thanks, Mike."
"Yeah, whatever. You'll ruin me one of these days, Vetter," he groaned.
She turned back to see Nick looking over at her with a disapproving frown. She grinned back at him 
and snapped the bill in her fingers. "Easy money, partner," she said. Only he could have heard her from 
that distance. Still surrounded by officers, he chuckled and shook his head. 
As the precinct settled back down to work and left Nick alone to get on with his paperwork, a 
uniformed officer from the front desk approached him.
"Hey, Knight. This just came in for you." Nick reached out and took the unusual black envelope from 
the desk sergeant.
"Thanks, Bill." The officer went on about his duties while Nick frowned and cautiously opened the 
envelope. It looked like something Lacroix would send. Nick flipped the envelope over to again look at 
the hand-written address. It was to him personally, but it wasn't his sire's familiar, flowing script. Nick 
pulled out the white piece of paper from within. He stared, utterly confused by what was written.
WPd4-c5
"What the hell is this?" he asked the room at large, flipping the piece of paper over and upside down, 
trying to gain a new perspective. Tracy moved around to his side of the desk and looked over his 
shoulder. She scrunched up her face.
"Beats me," she told him, before going back to her own chair. Nick shrugged and tossed the letter 
haphazardly into his 'in' box.
"It's probably someone's bad idea of a joke," he said. He picked up his pen again and diligently began 
filling out his overdue A7 reports, pointedly ignoring the letter in his box for the rest of the shift.
Two days later, he sat alongside his father, sipping a bloodwine at the relatively quiet bar of the Raven.
"I was wondering if you had noticed anything different with Nicky the past couple of weeks?" Nick 
finally asked his sire after a few minutes of idle chit-chat. Lacroix took his glass away from his lips to 
answer.
"Other than his increasingly insolent behavior?"
Nick sighed.
"No, that's about it." Nick rubbed his forehead with his fingers.
"I had a phone call from his principal this evening telling me that my son was on his last warning before 
being formally suspended from school."
"Indeed?" Lacroix frowned, turning his head to look at his son.
"That's not the worst of it." Nick took a breath. "He's been forging my signature on letters sent home by 
his teacher and principal supposedly informing me of his behavior and at least four fights he's had with 
other children over the past month." 
"This does not sound like the sort of behavior I've become accustomed to appreciating from young 
Nicholas," Lacroix said before taking another sip of his wine.
"No, it's not, and it's worrying me." Nick sighed again and twirled his glass stem between his fingers. "It 
all seemed to start when Natalie moved in with us. Perhaps he's not taking her living in the same house 
as well as he appears to be," Nick mused. The thought was the first to occur to him. But Nicky seemed 
to get along great with Nat. It didn't make any sense.
"Is he aware you have been informed of his seemingly fraudulent behavior?"
"Not yet. I wanted to speak to you first."
"Oh?" Nick smiled sheepishly and ducked his head as he said,
"Yeah. I was wondering if you would mind taking him in for a few days? Mainly to see if Nat and I are 
his main problem, or if it's something else." Lacroix frowned slightly. He looked sternly into his son's 
eyes as he thought the proposal through. Perhaps it would indeed be a good idea for him to take the 
boy. He highly suspected his son spoiled Nicholas far too much, and a spell with him may alleviate some 
of his increased impertinence.
"Very well. But with one condition," he said.
"Yes?" Nick asked suspiciously. Lacroix's conditions were rarely a good thing.
"He will be under my sole care. I'll not have him calling Daddy every time he doesn't want to do as I 
say or thinks he's being hard done by."
"You won't hurt him?" Nick asked firmly.
"Not permanently."
"Lacroix."
Lacroix sighed and flicked his hand.
"No, I will not hurt him."
"Very well. Thank you." Nick felt relieved that Lacroix had agreed to take Nicky. He was becoming 
more and more short-tempered with his son's behavior and attitude. He was afraid he was going to lose 
it one day soon and smack the daylights out of the boy. He needed a break more than anything. He 
didn't know what else to do. "I'll talk to him before school this morning." Nick slid from his stool and 
drained his glass. He patted Lacroix on the shoulder.
"Thanks again. I'll call you." 
Lacroix nodded and accepted his son's rare touch. He spoke quietly as Nick began to head for the 
door.
"Nicholas." 
Nick turned and took a step back toward his sire.
"I'll not become the divine cure for all your domestic problems. I fear I have done it too much in the 
past and have spoiled you." He turned slowly on his stool to face Nick. 
Nick stood wide-eyed as the ancient stared intently into his eyes. He conceded that Lacroix had often 
come to his aid in the past, and understood his sire may think he was capable of dumping Nicky with 
him before making a run for it. But it was unfounded; he would never leave his son. He was a part of his 
soul. He held one side of his dark heart, as Natalie held the other. He would be incomplete without 
either of them.
"You have nothing to fear in that regard, Lacroix," he replied adamantly. Lacroix smiled slightly and 
nodded his head. He turned away from his son, effectively dismissing him. The strong emotions he felt 
from his son gave him no doubt that Nicholas would never leave the child, just as he would never leave 
'his' son. But it was always good to remind Nicholas of the fact that he was ultimately responsible for his 
son's up bringing, not he. 
Nick arrived home a short time later, the sun just beginning to poke its first rays over the city skyline. He 
drew in a deep breath as he rode the lift, preparing himself for the coming confrontation. He slung open 
the door and strode straight into his son's bedroom. Nick went over to the bed with the sleeping child 
cocooned within its blankets and threw the duvet right off the bed.
"Get up," he demanded sternly, stepping away from the bed, hands on his hips.
"What?" Nicky struggled onto his knees and looked sleepily and confused at his father. One glance told 
him he was in big trouble.
"Get dressed." Nick threw some fresh clothes at the boy and left the room. Nicky knelt on the bed for a 
minute longer before slowly sliding off and removing his pyjamas, pulling on his school uniform.
"I am not going to wait all day, Nicholas!" His father's voice growled to him from the living room. 
Oh, no. He'd called him Nicholas! His dad had never called him that before. He must have found out 
about the letters. He must be totally pissed! Nicky quickly pulled his socks on and slunk out to where 
his father was impatiently waiting. He went to sit down in one of the armchairs.
"Stand up!" Nick commanded. Nicky shot to his feet. Oh God.
Nick paced closer to the boy before him. Nicky glanced nervously up at him as he drew nearer.
"I received a rather disturbing phone call at work earlier this evening.from your principal," he said, 
looking down at his son, gold licking the edges of his irises. He watched as Nicky began to fidget.
"Stand still," he quietly ordered. Nicky froze, his head bowed. Nick took several deep breaths and 
moved away from the boy, calming the anger that was threatening to take control.
"Ok," he said, somewhat more subdued. "I want to know what's going on. Why were you fighting at 
school?" Nicky shrugged his shoulders.
"Speak to me," Nick warned him authoritatively.
"I don't know," Nicky rasped, never taking his eyes from the floor.
"There must have been some reason. Were they harassing you about something?" Nick asked the boy, 
grasping at some straw that might tell him why his son was getting into so much trouble.
Nicky remained silent. Nick knew well the look his son was displaying. He saw it every day on perps 
who were about to clam up as tight as...well...a clam.
"All right. Here's what we're going to do. First, you're going to go to school today. You're not going to 
get into any fights or be disrespectful to anyone. Then you're going to come home and pack your bag. I 
want you to stay with your grandfather for a few days."
Nicky glanced up sharply, dissension glistening in his eyes.
"No way! I'm not going there!" he professed strongly, his voice rising.
"I'm not asking whether you want to go or not! You're going!" Nick returned the glare his son was 
giving him. "Finish getting ready for school. We'll finish this discussion when you get home." Nick 
frowned as he watched Nicky whirl about and storm off to his room, slamming the door violently behind 
him.
He purposefully avoided the chaos corner. He would have to go there tomorrow, but for now he didn't 
want to think about it. He sat at the small table, gazing intently at the chessboard. He had made twelve 
moves today, and was only now about to finally take a piece. He reverently moved the white knight to 
take the black bishop. He placed the black piece into a single plastic bag and placed it into the cigar 
box, laying it alongside the other piece he had taken earlier. 
He rose from the table and walked to the desk. He sat down and pulled out a fresh piece of white 
paper and printed upon it carefully. After placing the paper into another black envelope, he rose and 
pulled on his coat, making sure the door was securely locked behind him as he left.
Lacroix crossed his arms as he gazed stoically down at the child standing impatiently before him. 
Nicholas refused to look him in the eye. He had his own arms crossed and hips cocked haughtily to one 
side. His jaw was firmly set, and an insolent glare permanently shaped his young face. He was obviously 
not happy to be here.
"Go put your belongings in your room," he ordered. Nicky brushed past his grandfather and stomped 
upstairs. Lacroix raised an amused eyebrow at his son. 
"He hasn't said a word to me since this morning," Nick sighed. " He wouldn't tell me anything about 
what's going on."
"Hmm."
"Hi, Nick." Jordan came out from the storeroom behind the bar. 
"Hi, Jordan."
"Hear you're having a bit of trouble with Nicky."
"Just a bit."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure they don't drive each other insane." She smiled at him while wrapping an 
arm around his waist and rubbing his back. 
Lacroix harrumphed and turned back to the bar, retrieving his glass.
"Thanks, Jord." He gave her a shaky smile, showing the worry he was feeling about leaving his son here. 
Nick sighed and announced soberly,
"I have to get to work. Call me," he added, looking at his father. Lacroix nodded once and watched 
thoughtfully as Nick made his way out of the club.
"Knight, Vetter!" The familiar bellow issued from the Captain's office.
Nick and Tracy leapt to their feet and strode into the small room. Reese didn't wait for them to become 
comfortable as he thrust a slip of paper at Tracy.
"Trenton Park, coroner's en route," he informed them.
"We're on it, Cap," Tracy said as she left the office at the same speed she entered with her lagging 
partner in tow.
Nick spotted Natalie's car further up the road, closer to the crime scene. He always felt a pleasant kind 
of thrill at seeing Natalie at crime scenes. It was never a given that she would be the M.E sent, and it 
was a good feeling to see her there. 
He made his way over to where the inadequate floodlights had been set up and the cameras were 
flashing. Moving up behind Natalie, he could now clearly see the body. His fangs began to ache at the 
strong scent of blood. It was a messy one.
"What've you got, Nat?" he asked, crouching down beside her as he looked the body over. 
Without looking up, she let loose a triad of her initial observations.
"Female, early twenties, blonde hair, blue eyes, with several deep lacerations to the chest and throat. A 
very sharp instrument was used, probably a scalpel or something with the same characteristics. And 
then...there's this." She carefully turned the body on to its side to reveal the naked back to the detective.
"What is that? A tattoo?" he asked, pulling a disposable glove from his jacket pocket, and pulling it on, 
in order to gently touch the markings carved into the skin. Nick frowned at the mutilation. It seemed 
familiar.
"Appears so. I'll take a closer look when I get her back to the lab," Natalie said, gently rolling the body 
back into the position it was originally found in.
"Ricky!" Nick called to the forensic photographer. Ricky, a gawky young man barley out of college, 
arrived promptly at Nick's shoulder.
"Yes, boss?"
"Get some of the markings on her back," Nick ordered.
"Already got 'em boss. I'll get them to you a.s.a.p." Ricky smiled as he spoke to his favorite detective.
"Good. Thanks, Ricky," Nick said to the enthusiastic young man. He liked Ricky. He was good at his 
job and always thinking. Then again, maybe it was just his subservient behavior that appealed to 
him.even if it was faux. He turned back to Natalie as she carefully bagged the hands and feet of the 
victim.
"Time of death?" he asked..
"Hmm. Thirty-six, maybe forty hours," Natalie replied, taping the last bag securely around the wrists, 
sealing any evidence inside for later study.
"Thanks, Nat." Nick brushed his hand down her upper arm and rose to his feet.
She glanced up and flashed him a smile. "For you, anytime." 
Nick resisted the sudden urge to pull her to her feet and soundly kiss her; instead, he flashed his own 
grin and turned away. He continued to look around the crime scene. There were tracks all over the 
dew-laden grass, most of which belonged to the large crowd of police officers and forensic staff. It was 
impossible to tell if any of the tracks may have belonged to the killer. Not having any luck or inspiration, 
he headed over to where Tracy was interviewing the witness.
"Mr. Keller, are you sure you didn't see or hear anything prior to finding the body?" Tracy asked the 
middle-aged man standing before her dressed in a grey sweatsuit.
"Yes, quite sure," he told her adamantly.
"Ok, thank you, sir. You're free to go, though we may need to talk to you again." Tracy watched the 
dazed man as he nodded and quickly left. She closed her notebook and turned to meet her partner as 
he approached.
"Anything?" he asked.
"Nada. You?"
"Not sure. Maybe. I'll have to wait for the forensic and autopsy reports," Nick said as they headed 
toward the caddy and on to the station.
End part 1 
Part two
"It is time for bed, Nicholas."
"I want to finish watching this."
Lacroix physically stopped himself from throttling his grandson by tightly gripping the back of the 
armchair in front of him. Nicholas had been adversarial all evening, and his own reserve was wearing 
thin. He took a deep, calming breath, walked over to the TV and switched it off. He smiled as he was 
rewarded with the sound of the bedroom door closing a little louder than necessary. 
As dawn broke, Lacroix locked and secured the front doors of the club. Winter was making the days 
short. The mortals came in out of the cold, and the immortals were arriving earlier and staying later. As a 
result, the club was making a tidy little profit.
A pair of warm arms slipped enticingly around his waist from behind. 
"Coming to bed?" Jordan asked as he turned to face her, encompassing her in his own embrace.
"Soon. I have to make sure Nicholas is awake."
"Ok.I'll be waiting," she said, giving him a sultry smile. Lacroix bent down and kissed her soundly. He 
gazed at his lover as she climbed the stairs. For quite some time he has known, without question, he 
could blissfully gaze upon her beauty for all eternity. 
Quickly stowing his soundbooth away for the day, he made his way up to Nicholas's bedroom. He 
pushed open the door and entered.
"Nicholas," he said, flicking on the light. 
"Mmmm."
"It is time to get up." When he got no immediate response, Lacroix moved closer to the bed.
"Nicholas!"
"All right! I'm awake!" Nicky grumbled as he threw off his covers.
"You're quite capable of getting yourself off to school?"
"Yes, of course I am," Nicky snapped as he yanked open a drawer to pull out a fresh uniform shirt.
"Good." Lacroix left the room, shutting the door, too tired to expend any energy on disciplining the 
boy's disrespectful tone. He had better things to do right now. A smile pulled his lips as he thought 
about how he was going to find his waiting lover.
Woken suddenly, Lacroix reached blindly for the offending telephone beside his bed and pulled it to his 
ear. 
"Yes?" he growled, his eyes still closed. This had better be good.
"Ah? Mr. Lacroix?"
"Yes," he snapped again.
"My name is Alan Richardson. I'm the principal at St Augustus. I was told to contact you regarding 
Nicholas Knight." 
Lacroix opened his eyes and sat up.
"Indeed. What can I do for you, Mr. Richardson?"
"I'm afraid Nicholas has been involved in rather a serious altercation, and since he has been on 
probation, I'm going to have to ask you or his father to come down to the school at your earliest 
convenience."
Lacroix sighed, closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. It would soon be safe enough for him 
to venture outside.
"Very well. I will be there within the hour."
"Thank you. I'll see you then."
Lacroix hung up the phone and flopped back down on to the bed, forcefully expelling air while throwing 
an arm over his eyes. He felt Jordan stir beside him.
"What's wrong?" she murmured. 
"Our young Nicholas has been involved in an 'altercation'. His principal wishes to see me."
"Oooh, that can not be good."
"No, it most definitely is not."
Lacroix stalked down the long, empty corridor toward the principal's office. His black duster bellowed 
menacingly as he moved. 
He could hear the intoxicating sound of hundreds of young hearts pattering about him, waiting 
impatiently to be released from their lessons for the day.
He reached the office door and entered. 
A moderately handsome man in his late forties sat waiting behind the desk. Nicholas was slouched 
dispassionately in one of the two chairs sitting opposite. Lacroix raised his eyebrow at the principal who 
had risen to greet him. 
"Mr. Lacroix." He held out his hand to Lacroix.
"Mr. Richardson." Lacroix reluctantly shook it.
"Please, have a seat," Richardson said, gesturing toward the second chair.
Lacroix sat down, crossing his legs, resting his hands in his lap. The chairs were positioned at an angle, 
allowing him to look at the boy without having to twist his head. 
Nicky sat well slouched in his chair, his head resting upon one fist propped up against an armrest. 
Lacroix had heard his grandson's heart rate elevate somewhat upon his entering. And so it should, he 
thought. He had made sure the boy had sensed his growing anger at the situation and that he was most 
displeased.
Outwardly, Lacroix waited patiently for the principal to explain the necessity of his immediate presence.
"Ah. As...as you know, Nicholas has been on probation for the past two weeks," the principal stated, 
stuttering a little, intimidated by the mere presence of the austere man before him. Lacroix nodded 
curtly. "Well, this afternoon, he and another boy, Gareth Hollier, were involved in a rather savage brawl 
during class. His teacher, Miss Ross, tried to intervene and was deliberately punched in the face by 
Nicholas."
Lacroix directed his full attention to the boy next to him.
"Nicholas?" He could hardly believe his grandson would do such a thing. He may dislike mortals as 
whole, but certain professions heeded a certain amount of respect from him, and teaching was one of 
them. Lacroix glared and ground his jaw, tightly controlling his anger as the boy nodded.
"Due to the seriousness of the incident, I'm afraid Nicholas is to be suspended from school for two 
weeks, effective immediately."
"So long?" Lacroix asked, surprised at the harshness of the punishment.
"We have strict protocol concerning violence toward teachers. This is the minimum sentence we could 
impose upon Nicholas without expelling him." 
Nicky remained unmoved from his reclined position and impassive glare.
Lacroix looked thoughtfully at his grandson and nodded, his anger abating slightly.
"Very well. Perhaps it is for the best," he remarked, still gazing at the cool picture of disdain the boy 
portrayed. His anger was now moving to concern. This behavior was unacceptable and completely out 
of character for Nicholas. Something or other was having a decidedly undesirable effect on his 
grandson, and he wanted to know exactly what it was.
"We can have Nicky's homework sent on to him so that he won't fall too far behind in his school 
work," Richardson said. "I'm afraid there's not much more the school can do to help Nicholas. He's 
refused to speak with our counselors and staff, or to co-operate in any other programs we have. 
There's just nothing left for us to do but to suspend him."
"Indeed," Lacroix replied, without taking his gaze from Nicky.
"I'm sorry to have to do this, Nicky." The principal spoke directly to the boy. "You're one of 
our brightest students. I hope you can sort out whatever's going on with you while you're away 
and come back to us the young man we have so enjoyed teaching before all this trouble 
started."
Lacroix gracefully rose to his feet, ending the meeting.
"Mr. Richardson." Lacroix bowed his head slightly toward the principal and turned toward Nicky.
"Come, Nicholas. We now must go and explain to your father why you will not be attending your 
lessons for the next fortnight."
Lacroix followed the boy out of the office and down the corridor and outside to the waiting, blacked-
out limousine. He had ridden here in the car to suffer the least amount of discomfort from the dimming 
rays of the sun. 
Nicky silently got into the car and sat as far away from Lacroix as he could possibly get, slouching once 
again as he crossed his arms and glared out the window while they drove back to the Raven. Lacroix 
silently observed him. 
The bar had opened for the evening. Patrick watched with great sympathy as Lacroix and Nicky 
entered the club and stalked up to the apartment. He could feel the repressed anger radiating from the 
ancient and was immediately glad he wasn't in young Nicky's shoes.
"Go to your room and stay there until I summon you," Lacroix commanded the boy as they entered the 
living area. Still silent, Nicky obeyed, promptly disappearing into his bedroom. Lacroix returned 
downstairs to his office and picked up the phone.
"Nicholas."
"Lacroix. How's everything going?" Nick asked.
"Not very well, I'm afraid," Lacroix confessed with a resigned sigh.
Nick arrived at the Raven in short order. He stood fuming in Lacroix's office. His sire had relayed the 
events of the afternoon, immediately prompting him to call the principal himself and ask for more details. 
He was not pleased with what he was told.
"I can't believe he did such a thing!" Nick exclaimed, having all but slammed down the phone.
"He confessed to me that he indeed did."
"But why would he hit his teacher? He broke her nose!"
"I suspect he was in a rage at the time, and she just happened to get in the way at the wrong moment," 
Lacroix suggested, as his son paced back and forth across the room. His grandson's temper was fast 
and furious much like his mother's, and his nature was just as much his father's, so it was easy for him to 
surmise what had actually occurred.
"Do you wish Nicholas to remain here?" Lacroix asked his son. Nick halted his pacing and turned to 
face Lacroix.
"Do you want him to?"
"Yes."
"Why? Do you think it'll do him any good?"
"Perhaps, but I would like to try to get to the bottom of this." He paused to take a resigned breath 
before continuing. "I do not, however, believe his behavior has anything to do with you or Natalie. In 
fact, I am beginning to conclude that I may indeed be the true target of his anger."
"You? What have you done?!" Nick accused him, frowning deeply. 
"I am not entirely certain. But I will endeavor to find out," he replied thoughtfully, ignoring his son's tone 
of voice.
Nick turned away and breathed deeply. Turning back, he nodded and placed his hands on his hips. 
"Ok. He can stay." They remained silent for a moment, each within his own thoughts. Lacroix abruptly 
rose from his chair.
"He is in his room if you wish to speak with him." Nick nodded and followed his father up the stairs.
Jordan was curled up in a chair by the fire, reading a book as the two men entered the room. Lacroix 
went over to the closed bedroom door and opened it.
"Come here," he called to the boy. Nicky sauntered in and stood a few metres in front of Nick with his 
arms firmly crossed over his chest, looking at anything in the room but his father.
"Look at me," Nick ordered, hands firmly on his hips, holding his jacket tails behind him. Nicky raised 
his eyes, but didn't look directly into his father's.
"Look-at-me," Nick said again. Nicky glared hard, straight into him. "Right now. What happened today 
at school?" Nick asked calmly. He was determined not to lose his temper with his son. Something was 
wrong, and he didn't want to make things any worse than they already were. Nicky shrugged his 
shoulders. 
"Come on, talk to me," Nick almost pleaded, dropping his hands. Nicky lowered his gaze and sighed.
"I don't know."
"You don't know why you got into a fight with Gareth?" Nick asked him.
Nicky shrugged again. Lacroix was beginning to think the boy would have done well during the days of 
the Inquisition.
"Is that a yes or a no?" Nick persevered. Nicky huffed.
"Yes."
"Tell me."
"He called me a frog." 
Both Nick and Lacroix's eyebrows simultaneously shot up. To say the boy had overreacted to such a 
comment would have been, in the least, a gross understatement.
"You punched him because he called you a frog?!" Nick confirmed incredulously.
"Yes."
"And your teacher?" Lacroix asked. Nicky ignored the question, and when no answer seemed 
forthcoming from the boy, Nick intervened, glancing at Lacroix as he did so. Something was definitely 
up there.
"Nicky. Why did you hit your teacher?!" he repeated sternly.
"She just got in the way, that's all. I didn't know it was her until after I'd hit her," he stated tersely.
"I do not believe you sound terribly remorseful," Lacroix remarked firmly. 
Nicky's stance straightened, and his glare shot flaming stakes at the vampire.
"I don't fucking care what you believe!" 
Before Lacroix even had the chance to react to the obtuse profanity directed so unexpectedly at him, 
Nicholas had crossed the room and had grabbed his son roughly by the arm.
"Excuse us," he said calmly to Lacroix and Jordan, who was still sitting in the chair, a little bewildered, 
watching the whole intense scene play out before her. Nick dragged the boy into the bedroom and 
closed the door. Jordan flinched slightly at the sounds coming from within.
WHACK
WHACK
WHACK
Nick rapidly slapped Nicky's backside with his hand. The boy cried out lightly and tried to cover his 
bottom and move away. But Nick's grip on his arm held him in place. Nick pulled him roughly around 
to face him and leaned into his face.
"Don't you EVER speak to Lacroix, or me, or to anyone, for that matter, in such a disrespectful manner 
ever again!! Do you understand me?!!" he shouted.
Nicky didn't answer, but glared and tried to pull away.
WHACK. Nicky really cried out this time as his father hit him a little harder.
"Do you understand?!!"
"Yes," Nicky whimpered, tears streaming down his face.
"Right, go to bed. Lacroix will wake you later tonight so you can switch to night shift." Nick watched as 
his sniffling son slowly kicked off his shoes and slipped into bed fully clothed.
"I'll see you tomorrow night," Nick said firmly but without the anger that had been present a moment 
ago. He glanced once more at his son and switched off the light as he left the room.
Nick closed the door and crossed to the couch, collapsing down into a distraught heap. He covered his 
face with his hands, breathing deeply. Jordan went over to him and sat next to him , placing a comforting 
arm around his shoulders. 
"Are you ok?"
"No, not really." 
Nick leaned into her embrace and sighed heavily, trying hard not to cry himself. 
That old saying that he once thought to be nonsense about it hurting the parent just as much, if not more, 
than it hurt the child was, in fact, absolutely true.
End part 2 
Part three
Natalie rested against Nick as he leaned against the caddy, their arms wrapped around each other, 
falling together when they met a few minutes earlier outside in the precinct parking lot. He had just told 
her the whole torrid story of the afternoon's events, and she immediately gave him a big hug.
"Nick, Nat?" Tracy called softly from the front door.
"Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a call." She headed back inside when Nick nodded to her over 
Natalie's head and straightened, readying himself to let go of his lover.
Walking the steps together, they let go of each other as they entered the building. Nick went straight to 
his desk, halting suddenly as he noticed the black envelope sitting unopened on his blotter. Picking it up, 
he turned toward the front desk.
"Bill! When did this come in?" he called, holding up the letter.
"Ah, this afternoon, I think. Want me to check?" the officer replied.
"Yeah, thanks."
Nick frowned as he carefully opened the envelope.
"Nick, what is it?" Natalie could clearly see and feel his apprehension through their growing bloodlink 
and stepped closer to get a better look at the letter while he stood reading it.
WNc3-d5
"Nick," she said forebodingly in recognition of the strange text.
"I know," Nick said as he rummaged through his 'in' box and pulled out the first envelope. He held it up 
for her and Tracy to see. "And it's not the first." Nick led Tracy and Natalie into the Captain's office.
"Captain?" Nick said, firmly demanding is superior's attention.
"Yes, Detective?" Reese said without looking up from his paperwork.
"We have a problem."
The detective's tone hit him like a wet fish, and his head shot up to look at the small gathering.
"And I'm just not gonna like it, am I?"
"I can guarantee it." Nick and Natalie quickly relayed the forensic evidence they had thus far to his 
partner and Captain before they all made their way to the latest crime scene.
Arriving together, they immediately strode over to the mutilated corpse and stood back as Natalie 
began the initial examination. 
"Damn." The detectives came closer and crouched down to inspect the body as the coroner expelled 
the curse.
Natalie held the body on its side as she showed them the ominous markings etched in to its back.
BNb3-d5
"All right. Knight, I want you to make a list of everyone you know who could be targeting you." Reese 
went on, missing the rolling eyes of the detective. It would be a long list.
"I want all mail to Knight sent to forensics for testing before he opens it. I want the mail already received 
traced. Check other precincts for similar cases. The first case was barely in our jurisdiction, and I want 
results, people!" Reese now directed his attention to the whole scene, including every officer present in 
his next statement. 
"I want no one, and I mean no one, to talk to the press without direct clearance from me! 
Understood?!" Murmurs of assent rippled through the crowd. Reese nodded.
"All right. Let's catch this nut." Reese glanced at Nick and Tracy before heading back to his car.
Jordan sat on the edge of the bed and gently rubbed Nicky's back to wake him.
"Nicky." He stirred sleepily.
"Come on, I've made us breakfast," she said, pulling the covers off him. Nicky rolled over and still 
dressed, slipped out of bed and padded in his socks down the stairs to the small kitchen. Nicky was 
starving. He hadn't eaten all day.
Jordan busied herself at the stove and finished cooking the hashbrowns and sausages sizzling away 
there. Nicky's mouth watered uncontrollably. The events of the evening came abruptly back to him as 
he felt the slight discomfort when he sat down at the dining table. He pursed his lips and glanced back 
up at Jordan, now shoveling portions onto a plate.
"He's really mad, isn't he?" he suddenly said to her. Nicky knew how much his grandfather disliked 
swearing and any kind of disrespectful behaviour--that was mostly why he had done it. Jordan paused, 
as she looked at the child before her, then placed the plate she was holding in front of him.
As he picked at the food, she replied,
"No. Well, yes, but I think he's allowed to feel insulted and angry, don't you?" she asked the boy. 
Nicky reluctantly nodded. 
"Ok. Eat your food before it gets cold." Jordan sat opposite Nicky with her own plate, and together 
they silently ate.
"How about you and I go shopping for an apology present for your teacher this evening?" she asked 
Nicky as he placed his plate on the bench. She knew Nick had taken care of any and all medical 
expenses the woman required, but she thought it would be good for Nicky to personally apologize to his 
teacher.
Nicky nodded. He really was sorry he had hit his teacher; he really liked her. A present sounded like a 
good idea.
"Ok, go grab your coat and we'll go." Jordan watched as Nicky ran upstairs, then sighed. She was 
certain this situation with Nicky wasn't over. She had been a rebellious child and teenager in her day, so 
she knew all the signs. Nick and Nat were going to have their hands full with that boy.
Nick and Tracy sat at their desks, intently going over copies and photographs of the strange codes 
tattooed on the victims and written in the letters Nick had been sent. They had four. Two bodies, two 
letters, and they made less sense the longer they stared at them.
"Maybe they're serial numbers or something?" Tracy ventured.
"Yeah, they do kind of look something like that. It's worth checking, anyway," Nick replied, staring at 
one of the photographs of the first victim. "Both bodies were found fairly close together. No more than 
ten.eleven blocks apart." He continued, thinking aloud. "But the letters were posted from opposite 
ends of the city, so that gives us nothing."
"And why is he sending the letters directly to you?" Tracy added. Nick could only sigh and shrug. He 
had no idea. He knew it wasn't Lacroix--he had his hands well and truly full with Nicky. He had gone 
back over his conviction record--no one there worth pursuing, either. He let out a frustrated growl and 
flung the photos back onto his desk.
"Hey, Knight!" Nick looked up toward the front desk. "You got a live one here!" Bill held up a black 
envelope with a gloved hand. Nick shot from his seat and strode over to the uniformed officer.
"How did it arrive?" he asked as he snapped his own surgical gloves on to examine the envelope.
"Post, just like the others."
"Ok. Have it sent to forensics," Nick ordered as he handed the evidence back. "Top priority. I want it 
back within the hour." Without waiting for a reply, Nick strode back to his desk and sat impatiently 
down to wait. Buill didn't think twice about following the detective's orders to the letter.
Freddy Fletcher was terrified. He sat watching from the distant corner of the room as the man quietly 
played chess with himself. The man would mutter to himself every now and then. Freddy pulled 
frantically at the bonds holding him securely to the chair, but to no avail. They held tight. He whimpered 
mutely through the duct tape covering his mouth.
"Shhh!"
Freddy froze at the hiss, and the man went back to his game. He's crazy! A fucking fruit cake! My 
God! He's going to kill me, I just know it! He could smell the putrid scent of death and fear in the air. 
Oh god, oh god. Freddy began to cry. His sobbing became hysterical as he watched the man smile 
benevolently as he lifted a white game piece from the board. The man slowly looked over to him and 
smiled again. 
Freddy began to scream.
Nick sat staring at the photocopy of the latest letter.
Wb2-g7
"This is getting really creepy, Nick." Tracy was leaning over his shoulder.
"Tell me about it"
"Ok, you two, what have you got for me?" Reese asked as he came alongside the frustrated pair.
His detectives both glanced at him with the same innocent look. He knew that look--he'd done it 
himself a thousand times. They had nothing. He didn't wait for an answer.
"Find something, anything. The commissioner and the mayor are breathing down my neck. The press 
have got a hold of this already, and my phone is now officially off the hook." Reese gave them a stern 
look. "Have you IDed the victims yet?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. But they seem to have nothing in common, no connections, or similarities other than their sex 
and body size. Each victim was fairly small. It would seem our perp is probably of medium to small 
build. Selecting victims of small size makes it easier for him to overpower and move them around," 
Tracy spieled. It was superficial information, and she knew it, but it still felt good to be able to say 
something to the Captain. He seemed somewhat appeased as he nodded.
"Ok. Stay on it."
"Aye, Cap'n," Nick put in his two cents as the large man walked off. Nick shuffled the evidence 
together and shoved it into a folder, then threw it in his top drawer. He pulled on his coat and winter 
gloves. The sun would be rising soon, and their shift had finished over an hour ago.
"Come on, partner, I've had enough. Let's go home." 
"Nat, what do you think about sending Nicky to a therapist?" Nick asked as they sat cuddled together 
on the couch, relaxing before the warmth of a comforting fire. Nick held a glass of blood, while Natalie 
cradled her coffee.
"I think it's a very good idea." Natalie pulled away from him slightly to look up at his grim expression. 
"He's been through so much in the past six months. He really needs someone uninvolved to talk things 
out with." Natalie sighed and settled back against his cool, firm chest. "But it'll be difficult for him to talk 
freely to anyone without mentioning the blood-sucking creatures of the night. They'll send him off to the 
funny farm faster than the speed of sound."
Nick chuckled at Natalie's metaphors. 
"Yeah, I know, which is why I contacted an old friend of mine."
"Old?"
"Yeah, very old." He smiled.
Natalie raised a questioning eyebrow.
"She's a psychologist. She usually specializes with post-traumatic stress victims, but she said she would 
see Nicky if he agreed to go."
"She works with veterans?" Nick shook his head sadly.
"No. She's a pediatric therapist, based in New York."
"How well do you know her?" Natalie asked. Nick shifted in his seat, suddenly appearing very 
uncomfortable.
"Nick?" She prompted him with a look.
"She's mine," he managed to force out while finding the lamp beside him suddenly very interesting.
Natalie breathed in deeply. That was not what she had expected to hear. Strangely enough it didn't 
bother her as it would have a year ago. Once their relationship had safely moved onto the next and 
consecutive levels, she was feeling a lot more secure, and her ugly green monster rarely raised its head 
anymore. And the fact this woman is Nick's child only made her curiosity all the more intense. She 
almost had to know more about her.
"What's her name?" 
Nick was surprised as the expected barrage never came.
"Anna," he finally managed.
"You trust her?"
"Yes." Nick looked her confidently in the eye.
"Ok. I'd like to meet her first though."
"Um, yeah, sure. I'll call her tomorrow night," Nick floundered. Oh no. What if they didn't like each 
other? Or worse, what if they did, and then started talking about him? Between the two of them, he had 
some pretty embarrassing stories.
Natalie watched the barely controlled panic flit across his handsome face. She laughed and punched him 
lightly in the arm.
"Don't worry. You'll get over it!"
"Yeah, right." He hadn't seen Anna since, but he still cringed every time he saw or smelled a tube of 
Supaglue, and that had been over fifteen years ago.
Over the next three days, three more bodies turned up, each one scattered across the city. They all bore 
the now-familiar tattoo etched into the victim's back. Each had also been brutally mutilated, and with 
each murder, the degree of assault and violence was getting worse. The murderer was becoming more 
confident and creative with his method of killing, but still, the only clue they had was the growing list of 
nonsense codes. 
They hadn't received any new letters since the third, and last, three days ago. Nick was about ready to 
start pulling his hair out. He was getting extremely aggravated, and everyone, bar Tracy and Natalie, 
was beginning to avoid him at all costs.
"There are no patterns at all!" Nick exclaimed. "It's like everything he's doing is completely random!" 
"But that's what doesn't make any sense," Tracy interjected, "He's obviously planned every detail of 
each kill and each letter. Forensics haven't found as much as a single thread or partial print to go on."
"Yeah, and that's what's killing me. I know there is a pattern. I just can't damn well see it!" Nick 
shouted, throwing a heavy phone book forcefully across the room and into the far wall. 
The sound of the book hitting and denting the surface gave half the officers in the room a coronary. The 
room, by now very much used to these outbursts, generally ignored him, casually tossing pencils and bits 
of paper back toward the pair as they settled uninvited upon their own desks and feet. But this time they 
stared at the detective as he paced wildly beside his desk.
"Knight!" the Captain bellowed from his office. Nick scowled as he glanced haughtily at the office door. 
He remained standing by his desk as Tracy watched him decide whether or not to respond.
"Get in here NOW!" The decision was made for him.
Nick strode into Reese's office and plonked himself into a chair. His mood was obviously not the best 
and Reese felt like slapping him. He'd had to put up with this for over two days now, and it was getting 
under his skin. He pointed a finger at Nick as he began to speak.
"Nick. You have to calm down," he said sternly. Nick shot out of his chair and began pacing.
"How can I? People are dying, and some wacko is sending me letters. I should know what's going on 
but I just.can't! Grrrr!!" Nick threw his hands in the air as he growled in frustration.
Reese softened his tone.
"Nick. Go home."
"I can't."
"Yes, you can."
"There's too much to be done!" Nick exclaimed. Reese got to his feet and leaned over his desk.
"I'm not asking you, Nick! You're done for the night! Go home!" Nick stared at him with a glare that 
sent a cold shiver down the Captain's spine. Damn, he can be creepy when he's angry.
"Fine." Nick slammed the door behind him as he left. He stormed over to his desk and wrenched his 
coat from his chair.
"You're on your own, Trace," he hissed as he passed. Tracy watched her partner as he stormed on 
down the corridor, highly amused as everyone, perps and officers alike, hurriedly pressed themselves up 
against the walls, getting right out of the way as he seethed his way out of the building. Even the 
windows sighed with relief when he finally departed.
Nick drove straight to the Raven. Natalie was still on for several more hours, so there was no point in 
going home right now. Anyway, he could spend some time with Nicky.
Nick had dropped by to see his son twice in the past three days. Both visits he was greeted by polite 
conversation or silence. This almost worried him more than his son's previous shouting and insolent 
remarks.
It was Jordan who belayed his fears by telling him it was just Nicky's way of punishing him for spanking 
him. Even if he had deserved it.
Nick, having calmed right down now, and almost enjoying his unexpected night off, went straight to the 
bar and ordered a drink. He felt Lacroix slide onto a stool beside him. 
"I'm glad you're here, Nicholas."
"Oh?" Nick pulled away from the sip he was about to take.
"Yes. I would like you to baby-sit on Friday night." 
"Baby-sit?"
"I believe that's what I said. Jordan and I are going to a concert. The tickets were difficult to obtain, and 
we have been waiting for weeks to attend. So I would appreciate it if you would take Nicholas with 
you. It will only be for a few hours." Lacroix wasn't exactly asking.
Nick thought instantly of all the times in the past six months that he had asked Lacroix to do the very 
same thing.
"Yeah, sure," Nick replied haltingly. Still, having his sire ask him to baby-sit seemed kind of, well...odd.
Lacroix accepted the glass Patrick held out to him, and turned and leaned against the bar to look out 
upon the minions who frequented his bar. Nick joined him.
"Have you heard from Janette?" he suddenly asked, as much for conversation as for his curiosity. 
Lacroix hesitated before answering.
"No."
"Do you know where she is?"
"No, Nicholas, I do not. Paris, most likely," he replied, sharper than he had intended. He, too, had been 
thinking lately of his daughter. He could feel she was well, but through that constant connection he could 
also sense that she was a great distance from him, probably no longer even on the continent. He could 
only guess, as she had made no effort to contact either him or Nicholas. He found himself missing her 
presence.
They sat quietly until Nick finished his drink.
"What's he doing?" Nick asked.
"I believe he's moping in the kitchen."
"Moping?"
"He...misses you." Lacroix grimaced, flicking his hand dismissively through the air.
Nick felt his lips pull into an unsure smile. Lacroix smirked at his son's reaction.
"Go." Lacroix nudged him along. Nick turned to him, and they shared a knowing smile.
Nick silently took his leave and went behind the bar. Sure enough, Nicky was standing on his chair, 
rather unenthusiastically washing glasses at the kitchen sink. Nick smiled, went straight to him and 
enveloped him in an enormous hug.
Nicky soon wrapped his own arms around his dad, and they stood hugging.
"You want to come to work with me on Friday?" Nick quietly asked the boy on his shoulder.
"Yeah."
"Ok."
When Nick arrived back at the loft later that night, he was greeted by an unknown car barring the 
access into his garage.
Nick carefully looked over the grey Taurus. More curious than annoyed, he parked close behind it and 
took the stairs up to the second floor.
Halfway up, he frowned as he heard two people laughing. He opened the door to the kitchen and 
stepped through just in time to catch the last of the conversation.
".And then of course...you know what he did!" The woman spluttered through her uncontrollable 
laughter. Natalie shook her head as she wiped tears from her eyes.
"He then...tried to...pry it off.with his...other hand! So now...he had both hands...Supaglued to the 
chair!!" Natalie rolled around on the couch, clutching her stomach as she screamed with laughter.
Nick wilted. Anna, he mentally groaned.
The women must have suddenly felt his presence, for they stopped, took one look at him and fell about 
screaming again.
"Great, I am never going to hear the end of this," he muttered, his irritation growing as the women kept 
looking at him and laughing. Finally they calmed down to a snicker every now and then. 
"Nick!" Anna rose and came over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug. 
"It's been a long time." Nick smiled as he greeted his child.
"Much too long." 
"I see you've met Natalie," he pouted.
"Oh, yes, she's wonderful, Nick. She's perfect for you," she told him softly.
"Good, I'm glad. We're getting married."
"Married! Oh, Nick, that's even more wonderful! Congratulations!" Anna hugged him again. 
Natalie rose from the couch and joined them in the kitchen. She offered Anna another glass of 
bloodwine.
"Yes, thanks." Natalie handed her a refill, while holding her own glass of straight red wine. Natalie could 
see the rosy glow in Nick's cheeks and didn't bother offering him anything. He had already fed, and she 
knew just where he'd been to do that.
"So, my husband-to-be..." She placed a hand on her hip. "I heard you were sent home from work 
tonight after throwing a fit in the middle of the office," she said firmly, though her amusement was 
obvious. He wasn't known as the 'Knightmare' for nothing. 
Nick smiled and shrugged, his guilt pulling a boyish smile. Natalie turned to Anna.
"And then he wonders where Nicky gets it from!" she exclaimed. She knew just how much the two 
were alike. She saw it every day. They even held themselves and walked the same way. Sometimes she 
could just sit and watch them interact together for hours.
"Yes! Tell me about Nicky. I could hardly believe my ears when Nick told me he had a biological son!" 
Anna excitedly looked from Nick to Natalie.
"Well," Natalie started, "Nicky is basically a miniature Nick, but with a little extra spice," she explained 
with a smile. "He has above average intelligence, and his vampiric abilites appear to be increasing as he 
matures. Nick's given up playing chess with him because he keeps losing all the time."
"Not all the time!" Nick pouted. Hey, he still had some pride left, he thought as he let Natalie continue.
"He's also very receptive to what Nick and Lacroix are feeling." 
"He is?" This was Nick.
"Yes. A few weeks ago Nick had come home from work one morning fuming at something or other. 
Before that, Nicky had gone from a sweet boy to totally angsty about half an hour before Nick even 
walked through the door. There had been no reason for his sudden mood swing. In fact, when I asked 
him what was wrong, all he told me was, 'Dad's in a bad mood.'"
"I never knew this." Nick frowned at Natalie.
"When I asked him a couple of weeks later if he still felt things from you, he said he didn't, because 
Lacroix had shown him how to shield you both from his mind."
"Why didn't any of you tell me about this?!" Nick fumed.
"Because I thought you knew!" Natalie defended herself.
Anna could sense a battle emerging and stepped in.
"Tell me more about Nicky," she asked the glaring pair. She wasn't impervious to her sire's state of 
being at this moment, and she smiled.
"What?...Oh, yeah," stuttered Nick as he drew himself away from Natalie's gaze. Although he felt 
annoyed at not being told about his son's ability, seeing Nat all fired up like this was turning him on 
something bad. He quickly pushed his desires away until after Anna left.
"He lost his mother about six months ago. That's why and when I learned of his existance. Not long 
after coming to Canada, Gaelan turned up and kidnapped and tried to kill him."
"Gaelan? He was here?!"
"Yes."
"Is he...?"
"Dead? Yes."
"Good."
"And then he had a little incident with the mob. He witnessed a multiple murder and was chased into the 
lake by gunmen intent on killing him."
"Is that it?" Anna asked.
"Yeah, I guess so." Nick finished soberly.
Anna looked up from the note book in which she had started jotting down notes as Nick's spiel of 
trauma grew into quite a list.
"And he has been fighting at school?" she asked.
"Yes. He was finally suspended on Tuesday."
"Where is he now?"
"With Lacroix. He seems to think he might be his problem, and I'm beginning to agree with him, though 
neither he, nor I, can guess why," Nick added. He leaned against the bench with his arms and ankles 
crossed, mentally cringing at the words coming from his mouth. If the mortal world knew of half the 
events in his son's life within his short time with him, social services would have been called, and they'd 
have taken his son away long ago.
He gazed at Anna as she frowned over her notes.
"Well?" he finally quipped when she continued to frown.
"Well, what?"
"Can you help him?"
"Yes, of course I can. I am, however, surprised he hasn't climbed the CN tower with an M16 yet, but 
yes, I'm confident I can help him, that is, of course, if he lets me."
Nick visually cringed this time at her remark, and Natalie wrapped a comforting arm around his waist.
"When would you like to meet him?" Natalie asked.
"Well, I've just opened my new office on Alcorn Ave, so why don't you bring him by on Monday 
evening?"
"Sounds good," Nick said as he uncrossed himself and straightened.
Anna stepped forward and gave him another hug.
"Didn't I always tell you you'd make a great dad someday?" She smiled lovingly up at him, caressing his 
cheek with her hand. Nick couldn't help smiling as he recalled their conversation many years ago.
"Yeah, you did."
"Well, It's what I still think," she encouraged him.
"Thanks, Anna," he said hugging her close, "I needed that."
End part 3 
Part four
Nick arrived at work the next night to find a copy of a new letter sent by the serial killer waiting on his 
desk. It had arrived during the day shift; the original had been sent down to forensics for testing. As 
usual, nothing had been found.
Nick felt the familiar heat of frustration growing rapidly within him. Closing his eyes, he took several 
long, deep, calming breaths. It wouldn't do to be sent home two nights in a row.
He heard Tracy enter and sit quietly at her desk.
"Ah, Nick?" She cautiously eyed the man across from her as he sat very still, with his eyes firmly shut. 
She knew they wouldn't be his normal blue.
"Yes, Tracy?" he said, unmoving.
"Another victim has been found down by the CN tower. The uniforms at the scene are sure it's one of 
ours." She was unsure if Nick was going to lose it again. He seemed to be taking this whole case very 
personally. But then, so would she if the killer were personally sending her letters.
Nick slowly let out his breath and opened his eyes. Without even a glance in her direction, he rose to his 
feet and grabbed his coat and gloves.
"Ok. Let's go," he said, making his way toward the door.
Natalie was already present and was holding off the coroner's crew from taking the body away until the 
detectives had a chance to give it the once-over.
"Nick. Tracy," she called out to them as they neared. "You'd both better come and take a look at this." 
The detectives came over to her and she pulled the sheet from the corpse, hiding the mangled remains 
from the lingering crowd and circling media camped behind the yellow tape, quickly erected by the 
police.
"He's young, 18 tops," she said, watching as the pair both glanced away from the mangled body, though 
for different reasons. Mind you, she noted even Nick was looking a little green around the gills with this 
one.
The body had been broken in half from the impact. Bones and flesh were hanging from distorted limbs, 
and grey matter was clearly showing itself through the gaping hole in his head where the skull had been 
ripped away. Tracy had to cover her mouth as Natalie pulled the heap of flesh, which was once a whole 
body, over, to reveal the tattoo across the disjointed back.
"You think he was pushed?" Tracy asked as she glanced up the enormous length of the CN tower.
"No question about it," Natalie replied.
"Why?" Nick asked.
"Because when he hit, the tape binding his wrists together ripped his arm from his shoulder." Natalie 
moved the body again, the sound of bone against bone turning everyone's stomach, to show them the 
still-bound wrists of the serial killer's latest victim.
Nick straightened and began pacing around the body as he thought.
"He would have tattooed the body before he killed him," he said out loud. Tracy rose now, seeing 
where he was going with his train of thought.
"So he must be taking them somewhere and keeping them there before he kills his victims."
"Right. It would have to be somewhere quiet, a house, maybe, an abandoned warehouse, somewhere 
like that," Natalie said, getting in on the act.
"Unless they were drugged," Nick suggested.
"Nothing came up on the earlier tox reports. But I'll check again. It could have been a substance which 
had dissipated by the time we got to it. But I'd place time of death here no more than an hour ago. 
Something new might come up when I do the autopsy," Natalie said as she packed her equipment 
together and motioned the patiently waiting ambulance crew to come in and transport the remains back 
to the morgue. 
"Ok, I'll stop by later to see if you've come up with anything." He waited for Natalie to nod, before 
turning away to begin the torrid task of interviewing the witnesses.
"Nicholas!" The boy popped his head out from the bedroom doorway.
"Have you everything you may need?"
"Yes."
"Then let us depart." Lacroix held the living room door open for the boy to pass through, carrying his 
backpack.
Jordan met them in the hall.
"Wow, Jord, you look beautiful!" Nicky gasped. He was used to her wearing jeans, not all dressed up 
in evening wear.
"Indeed, my dear, you look stunning," Lacroix purred over the boy's head, meeting her sparkling eyes. 
If the child hadn't been there, he was certain they would have been late for the concert, assuming they 
made it at all. He reined in his libido and escorted them both down to the waiting limousine.
Pulling up in front of the 96th precinct, Lacroix stepped out to walk Nicky inside.
Lacroix, looking more than dashing in his tailored tux, drew more than a casual glance from the female 
officers as the pair strode past. 
Nick rose to meet them with a smile as they entered the bullpen.
"Hey, you!" He hugged his son tightly. He let go and looked up at his sire.
"What time do you think you'll be back?" he asked.
"No later than midnight, I should think," Lacroix replied, standing patiently at the corner of his desk.
"Ok, I'll make sure we're around when you get here."
"Very well." Lacroix half turned away from his family, then looked back and pointed a finger at Nicky.
"Behave," he growled, before quickly leaving the building.
Nicky rolled his eyes and plonked himself in a chair beside his dad's desk. Nick sat back down in his 
own seat and swiveled to meet his son.
"Right, you remember the rules?" he asked. Nicky sighed dramatically and held up three fingers. 
"Don't talk to the criminals. Be careful what I say about you know what. And don't leave the precinct."
"Excellent. What did you bring to keep yourself busy?" Nick asked, peering into Nicky's pack.
"A couple of books, some homework, a chess set and my Gameboy," he ran off his bag's contents.
"Yeah, that should keep you out of trouble."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?!" Nicky whined. Nick just raised his eyebrow, until Nicky had 
to smile. He supposed he had to agree--his record wasn't exactly glowing at this point.
"Hiya, Nicky!" Tracy hugged him from behind as she arrived back from the filing room.
"Hi, Trace."
"Knight! Vetter!" Reese called as he strode into the room. Nick stood and followed his partner into the 
Captain's office. They reemerged a moment later and both pulled on their coats before turning to Nicky.
"You, stay here, and keep yourself busy," he said, gesturing at Nicky's pack. "We might be gone for 
some time, so just ask Bill or Captain Reese if you want anything, ok?"
"Ok." Nicky watched his father leave. Off to a crime scene no doubt. Nicky moved himself into Nick's 
chair and began to casually gaze over what was on his desk. He went through all his drawers, found his 
spare gun and shirt, stationary, incident forms, arrest forms and forms for something he had no idea 
about. Nothing seemed particularly interesting. He turned back to the desk top. 
Sitting on the blotter was a manila folder. Nicky glanced up to see if anyone was watching him. All 
clear. He slowly flicked open the cover.
Gross! He stared morbidly at the crime scene photos of a murdered lady. He flipped past the other 
photos and came to the collection of letters. Nicky frowned in concentration as he went over them one 
by one. He then came to a list of all the markings found on the bodies.
Nicky picked up a pencil and quickly jotted down all of the letters and numbers from the bodies and the 
letters. He then closed the folder and pushed it away.
"It's number seven, Nick."
"Damn it!" he exclaimed as he knelt down beside the coroner. He roughly ran a hand through his hair 
and abruptly rose again.
"Ok. Let's get this over with," he growled to Tracy and the world at large.
Nicky sat staring at the list of codes in his hand. He'd been doing it for over half an hour now, and still 
hadn't seen anything special about them. He sighed and dropped the paper to the desk. Bending down 
to his pack he pulled out his Gameboy. As he fished the game out, he caught sight of his chess board. A 
sudden thought flitted into his mind. He reached in and swapped the electronic game for the wooden 
chess set.
Setting up the pieces on the desk, he stared at it, trying to bring the idea he almost had into focus. Nicky 
picked up the list of codes from the folder. 
"Hmm." He looked thoughtfully from the codes to the chess board and back again. Keeping the paper 
held up in one hand, he began to play. 
"Nick, slow down!" Tracy exclaimed as they almost sideswiped a minivan.
"Sorry," Nick said as he eased his foot off the accelerator. His mind had wandered yet again. He 
mentally pulled up his boot straps and concentrated on getting his partner back to the precinct in one 
piece.
Nicky frowned and replaced the pieces back into their starting positions. Something wasn't right. He 
looked back to the list. He pulled out the pad again and then without even checking around him, flipped 
open the folder. 
He proceeded to correlate the codes on his list with the letters and bodies, placing them into the correct 
order in which the letters were either sent or the bodies found. 
Now holding his new list, he began to play again.
"Nothing showed up on the toxicology reports. The victim's were all fully conscious when they were 
killed. But what Nat did find was the residue of the glue used on duct tape across the victims mouth and 
hands," Nick told his partner as she sat a little uncomfortably beside him in the passenger seat.
"It was a good idea, though." Tracy tried to shed a little light on Nick's increasingly cloudy day.
"I don't know, Trace," Nick sighed, exasperated. "I just can't seem to figure this guy out." Nick shook 
his head as they pulled into the precinct and parked his car.
Nicky stared at the chess board. It was now almost empty.and he had made checkmate.
He put his list down and went over to where Officer Bill was standing at the front desk. He glanced up 
as Nicky approached.
"Hello there, young Knight."
"Hi, Bill."
"What can I do for you?"
"Um. Do you have a map of Toronto that I can photocopy?"
"Yeah, sure, somewhere around here." Bill began rummaging around under the front desk. Eventually he 
pulled out an A3 size streetmap of the city.
"Here you go. Do you know how to use the copier?"
"Oui. Merci beaucoup."
"Anytime." Bill was quickly distracted away by an irate 'customer', so Nicky made his way over to the 
copier in the far corner. He placed the map under the lid and after carefully reading the instructions, he 
pressed the buttons to make three copies. Clutching his paperwork, he returned to his fathers desk. 
Pulling open a drawer, he picked out a couple of red and black marker pens he had seen in there 
earlier.
Rummaging around some more he found a ruler, and began to draw an eight by eight grid, 1-8 up the 
side and a-h along the bottom edge, all of it covering the surface of the maps.
Next he re-set the chess board and repeated his last game, matching each move for move.
"Nicholas!" Nicky dropped the pen he was holding and spun around at his father's angry bellow.
Nicky stood very still. It was then he realized that he had left the folder open and its contents spread all 
over the desk.
"What the hell are you doing?!" His father was shouting in French.that meant he was real mad.
Nicky glanced back at the desk and gestured, his mouth moving without uttering a sound.
"Well?!"
"Um, I...ah...had this idea," he managed to stutter. 
Nick's shouting had attracted the attention of his Captain.
"Knight?" Both of them turned at his call. "What's going on?" The last thing he needed was a domestic in 
his squadroom. 
"I was just endeavoring to find out, Captain," Nick replied, looking back at his son. Nicky fidgeted 
under the glare of his father and expectant gaze of the Captain. He took a deep breath and began to 
explain.
"Well, I.um.kinda looked at the case file for that serial killer guy..."
"You what?!" Reese exclaimed, turning to Nick. Nicky quickly went on before either of them could say 
anything else.
"I...I think I found something!" he blurted. The grownups just stared at him, so he continued.
"I was looking at the codes from the letters and the bodies, and I thought I recognized them."
"And?" Nick came closer, his desperation with the case piquing his interest, despite the horror of 
knowing his 11-year-old would have had to have looked at the crime scene photos to get all his 
information.
"He's playing chess."
"What?!"
"Chess. Here, I'll show you." Nicky pulled out a fresh gridded map and set up the chess pieces, only 
this time he set them up on the map.
"All the codes on the letters he sent to you," he glanced up at his father, "have began with a W, and the 
bodies have all began with a B." The men nodded, humoring him more than anything.
"Which means that you are white and he's black." Nicky barreled on, while his father and the Captain 
were both looking rather perplexed at what he was trying to explain. "The other numbers and letters are 
grid numbers." Nicky began to play the set game as he spoke. After about twelve moves he paused 
before taking the first piece. 
"The first piece taken was white." Nicky took the white piece from the board and picked up his red 
marker, and placed a cross in the square where the white piece had been. He kept playing. Soon a 
white piece took a black one.
"For every black piece taken by white, he sent you a letter." Nicky held up the first letter sent to Nick. 
Nick took the paper and glanced from it to the board.
"Mon Deu," he whispered. The grid reference on the letter matched the square the black piece had been 
sitting in.
"Keep going." Nick was catching on. He beckoned his son to play out the game.
When Nicky took the next piece, white taking black, Nick matched it with the second letter.
When he came to the next black taking white, Nicky marked the map with his marker.
"When black takes a white piece, he leaves a body," Reese whispered. Nicky nodded.
"Play," Nick firmly urged his son on, carefully watching every move.
Nicky played on until he eventually toppled the white king.
"Checkmate, black wins," he said soberly. 
There were thirteen red crosses on the map. Nick had rummaged through the folder until he found the 
location of where each of the bodies were found.
He gaped at the map.
"It's a match, " Nick gasped.
"But we only have seven bodies. What about the rest?" Reese asked, waving at the map full of crosses.
"He's only halfway through the game," Nicky told him.
"So the others are predictions?" he asked. Nicky nodded. 
"Yes, but there's not many different moves he can make and win," he answered the large man.
"Nicky?" Tracy, who had remained silent up until now, spoke. "Did you come up with this all by 
yourself?" she asked the eleven-year-old. Nicky smiled modestly and nodded.
"Do it again," Nick ordered. The boy quickly set up the makeshift board again and played out the 
moves.
They made Nicky repeat the game several times, with Nick helping him play several different scenarios 
before they were sure the theory was sound.
"We now know where he's going to dump the next body within a two-block radius, but we don't know 
when," Reese thought aloud.
"And we should receive a letter first. If the code matches Nicky's move, then we can assume the theory 
is correct and we can set up surveillance at the next site," Tracy added excitedly.
"Yeah, but we can't stop him from killing," Nick morosely reminded them. 
"It's all we've got, Nick," Tracy told him softly.
"Yeah, I know." Nick sat down in his chair as Nicky vacated it, and pulled his son down onto his lap. 
"You did a good job, son." Nick ruffled his child's hair and smiled. "But if you ever go through my case 
files again, you'll be washing dishes for the rest of your life. Comprends-tu?"
"Oui." Nicky ducked his head and smiled at his father. 
"Well done, kiddo," Tracy said as she sat down.
"We'll make a detective out of you yet." Reese grinned and patted Nicky's short blonde curls.
"But I also agree with your dad. If your little eyes see things again they're not meant to see, then you will 
be doing my dishes, as well," Reese said firmly then smiled when the boy nodded. He again left them to 
finally go and report some good news to the commissioner, and finally get the mayor off his butt.
Together, Nick and Nicky turned toward the front door. A moment later Lacroix entered the room.
"I trust your evening went well?" Nick smiled at Lacroix as he rose, lifting Nicky from his lap.
"Indeed, it was most agreeable," the ancient said lightly. Lacroix was in a good mood. Even so, Nick 
noticed his son's smile fall and his mood somber as his grandfather arrived. He glanced up at his sire 
and raised an eyebrow. Lacroix frowned slightly. He too had observed the sudden change. It was 
becoming worse whenever he was around the boy. To him, this all but confirmed his suspicion that he 
was indeed not in the child's 'good books'. Still, he could not fathom why the boy was acting this way. 
It had become most irritating.
"Come along, Nicholas. We mustn't keep Jordan waiting." 
Nicky packed up his bag and quietly followed the vampire out to the car. 
"Knight!" Nick looked over to the front desk. He all but ripped the black envelope from the officer's 
hand, and without hesitation, tore it open.
"Hey, Nick! It hasn't been to forensics yet!" Bill yelped.
"Doesn't matter," Nick mumbled as he strode back over to the map on his desk and matched the latest 
grid reference to the list Nicky had written. Bill threw up his hands and roled his eyes as Tracy leapt to 
her feet excitedly and leaned over her desk to get a closer look.
"Trace?"
"Yes, Nick?"
"Have I told you before that my son's a genius?"
"Yes, Nick. But that's all right, you can tell me again."
Nick looked up at his partner and let loose an enormous grin. Tracy returned it with equal force, and 
they got down to the business of setting up a tactical strike team. They were going to nail this guy, if it 
took every squad car, swat team, detective, footman, dog patrol, firecrew, and metermaid to do it.
Nick slouched beside Tracy as she nursed her fifth cup of coffee. It was cold. Nick had to turn on the 
caddy's engine every half hour or so to keep the battery charged as the heater, which Natalie had 
forced him to get fixed, blew hot air continuously into the car's interier.
"I don't think he's going to come tonight, Nick," The cold mortal mused.
"You might be right, Trace," Nick conceeded. It was indeed beginning to look that way. He shifted in 
his seat and wiped the latest layer of condensation from the windows.
"Whoa, hang on a minute," he said as he caught sight of a male of medium build, driving a white Honda 
Prelude, pull up close to the park's edge. Nick grabbed his radio.
"Ok, everyone, this could be it. White Prelude, male, brown coat, black woollen hat. Sutton end of 
Bayview."
Several units replied a ten-four to the sighting. The new arrival was now being avidly watched by over 
twenty officers, ready to pounce if he dared breathe too hard. It was 3 am, and the streets were still and 
quiet. The tension cut though the frigid air.
The average man stepped from his car. That was the only way to describe him. He had average brown 
hair, average build and features, average car, average clothing, average everything.
"This guy? Come on, he could be my Dad if he was a little older and had less hair," Tracy quirked.
"Don't judge a book by it's cover. Tracy. You know that," Nick scolded lightly as he kept his gaze 
glued to the suspect.
"He's opening the trunk," Nick suddenly quietly said. He cracked open his door after switching the 
interior light right off so as not to light it when he opened the door. Tracy did the same.
They observed unwaveringly as the man began to struggle with something heavy from within the car.
"Wait, wait," Nick spoke quietly into the radio, keeping the officers at bay, until they were absolutely 
certain.
The suspect managed to wrench out a sizable package, wrapped in a blanket. It was roughly the size 
and shape of a human body. That was enough for Nick.
"Go, go, go!" Nick called. He leapt from the car, followed closely by Tracy, and ran at mortal speed 
across the road, pulling out his gun as he went.
"Police!" he announced clearly. "Stop what you are doing and put your hands behind your head!!" Nick 
yelled as he sought shelter behind a parked car directly behind the Honda.
The average man dropped his package with a sickening thud, and whirled around to confront Nick, as 
Tracy pulled up behind a second parked car.
The man smiled at Nick as he reached into his coat.
"Don't move!!" Nick yelled, standing his ground and pointing his gun directly at the suspect. The air was 
tense and charged with adrenaline. It was a standoff.
Other officers were quickly closing in on the scene, guns drawn and aimed at the man.
The suspect kept the demonic grin on his face and stared straight at Nick, never glancing at the other 
officers training their sights on him.
"You were a marvelous opponent, Detective. You figured it out much faster than I had anticipated." 
"Take your hand slowly away from your coat!" Nick shouted. The man just stood there and smiled.
"Do it! Now!!" Nick warned him.
The killer suddenly yanked his hand from his coat. Nick saw the flash of light on metal and fired. He 
emptied half a clip into the mortals chest before the man fell, his heartbeat absent even before he hit the 
pavement.
End part 4
Part five
"Did you know him?" Natalie asked as she circled her autopsy table, her attention attached to the body 
she was dissecting. He was an unemployed software designer, going by the name John Gordon. 
"No, not a clue. Never met the man before in my life," Nick said as he leaned casually against her desk, 
watching Natalie thoroughly examine the body before her. "We found what basically amounted as a 
shrine to me, in his apartment. He must have had every article the newspapers had ever written about 
me on his wall, not to mention several photos which he'd taken himself at crimescenes and outside the 
precinct. To quote my partner, 'It was creepy', Nat." 
"Why you?"
"I don't know. Maybe he saw me as someone who was able to challenge his own mind.I can only 
guess." He paused before shaking his head. "I know what it's like to be hunted, Nat, but stalked...?" 
Nick shivered slightly as he recalled the chill he had felt inside the killer's apartment.
"And nobody heard a thing?"
"Nothing. They even told us how nice they thought he was. Always polite and helpful, etc,etc." Nick 
waved a hand through the air. He sighed heavily and crossed his arms.
"If Nicky hadn't solved this case, Nat, a lot of people would have died." Nick ducked his head and 
winced as he spoke. "I just couldn't get my head around this guy. I would never have figured out the 
pattern as my 11-year-old son had, and in an hour, no less! Not in a hundred years!"
"You're proud of him then?" Natalie asked, glancing up at him, grinning.
"Yes, I am." He smiled back.
"And?" Natalie just kept staring at him expectantly with raised eyebrows. Nick stared back, until he 
finally relented.
"Fine! I'm a little jealous, too! Happy?!"
Natalie just kept grinning as she shook her head and turned back to her work.
"Well, I'd better get back. I left Tracy to start on the paperwork," Nick said, getting to his feet and 
moving to peck her on the cheek.
"Funny that," Natalie muttered.
"Funny, what?" Nick had heard her loud and clear, just as she knew he would.
"You, leaving the poor mortals to field all your paperwork," Natalie jibed without looking up from the 
lumber incision she was making. 
"Well, after the first century or two, menial tasks do become somewhat tedious." When she looked up, 
Nick pulled himself into a pompous, haughtily posture and looked down his nose. "And my dear, I am a 
DeBrabant. I do not do...paperwork!"
Nick waved his hand in the air and strode out of the morgue with his head held high. Natalie had to 
move the scalpel in her hand away from the body before she made incisions she couldn't explain, as she 
chuckled at his theatrics.
"Anna?" Nick poked his head around the office door. It was Monday evening. He and Natalie had 
brought his son to Anna's office just as they had arranged. Nicky had been dead against it at first and 
Nick had bribed him with a promised swim at the local rec-centre in order for him to comply and give it 
a go. If nothing else but to meet his sister of sorts.
"In here, Nick. Come on in," a voice called from a closed door on the far side of the office.
Nick pulled Nicky into the office and sat him down in one of the large, comfortable armchairs 
positioned around the bright, yet tastefully decorated room. Nick sat down to his left and Natalie to his 
right. Nicky was wondering if a swim would be worth all this.
The door opened and Nick rose to meet Anna as she joined them, smiling warmly and hugging Nick.
"So," she said, smiling down at Nicky sitting comfortably in his chair. "You must be, Nicky,"
"Oui," Nicky answered quietly as he looked up at the beautiful woman and smiled shyly.
"Well, Nicky, since this is your appointment, you have the choice of whether or not you would like your 
Dad and Natalie here. It's completely up to you," she told him.
"Yeah?" They would leave him here alone?
"Yeah. So which would you prefer?" she asked him. Nicky looked quickly from Nick to Natalie and 
then back at Anna. He noted their neutral expressions. They were letting him decide.
"Um, I think I might want to see you by myself." Nicky finally looked to Anna. He guessed this would 
be the best way to not actually have to do or say anything to Anna that he didn't want to. He smiled. 
This might not be too bad.
"Ok, no problem." Anna smiled back, then turned to the adults. "We'll be finished in an hour. Why 
don't you two go grab a coffee or something?"
"Are you sure?" Nick asked, turning to his son. Nicky nodded and shuffled in his seat.
"Ok, if you're sure, then." Nick still sat in his chair; he didn't really want to miss out on hearing what the 
two would talk about.
"I'm sure!" Nicky growled. 
Natalie rose and quickly dragged Nick from the room before he could protest any further, leaving the 
pair in peace.
Anna and Nicky had been talking for a while now. She had eased into it, first asking him about school 
and what he liked doing, then she asked him about his mother and Natalie, his Dad. Basically, they 
talked about everything. 
She had asked the odd in-depth question as she went, but mostly kept the chat casual and friendly with 
the least amount of pressure for him, so he could answer her freely and honestly. She had been 
surprised at how easily he had talked about his mother and how she died. He had even told her about 
how he had run away from the hotel in Paris when he and his father had first met. He was an open, and 
emotionaly honest, child. But he was obviously keeping something to himself which was affecting his 
behaviour in a major way. Determined to get to the bottom of it, Anna leaned back in her armchair and 
thought about broaching the subject of the one person whom they had not yet talked about. 
"So, what about your grandfather? How do you get along with him?" she asked the boy.
Slam! Up went the shutters. Whoa. She had definitely hit upon something here. 
Nicky just shrugged his shoulders.
"Ok.I guess," he replied stoically. Nicky clenched his teeth and crossed his arms. He did not want to 
talk about him. He then glared at Anna when she persisted in asking him about Lacroix.
"I know he can be quite cold and hard to get along with." Anna paused as she observed Nicky's body 
language. "I hear you're staying with him at the moment. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"How do you like it?"
"I don't."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Because."
"Because...?"
"Just because."
"Ah." Anna frowned a little as Nicky glanced around the room, swinging his feet against the bottom of 
the chair. She was silent for a moment, then asked the boy a direct question which she felt he was ready 
to answer for her.
"Do you trust him?" she asked carefully.
Nicky stopped banging his feet and hesitated for a long moment before quietly replying.
"No."
"Would you like to talk about why?" she asked. Quite sure he would refuse, she wasn't disappointed by 
his answer.
"No."
"Ok, not a problem. But if you ever do, you can see me any time, night or day. Ok?" she told him 
casually, lifting the tension from the room as she smiled and raised her eyebrows at Nicky.
Nicky nodded and relaxed a little in his chair when he realized she wasn't going to push him any further 
to speak about his grandfather.
There was a soft knock on the door. They both smiled--it was Nick and Natalie.
"Come on in. We're done," she said at normal volume. No need to yell when vampires were around.
His dad dropped him back off at the Raven soon after, and Nicky went straight up to his room and 
watched TV. What he wanted to do was go home, but his dad said he had to stay until tomorrow. 
Flopping onto the sofa, he kicked off his shoes and began flicking channels.
"He doesn't trust you," Nick blurted suddenly after taking a long gulp of his wine.
"Pardon me?" Lacroix turned and blinked at his son.
They sat side by side at the bar, sipping at a glass of the house special.
"Nicky, for some reason, he doesn't trust you. Anna asked him straight out if he trusted you, and he 
said no."
Lacroix frowned. This was unexpected. He was sure he had done nothing to betray the boy's trust. In 
fact, if anything, he had done more than enough to have his unrelenting loyalty and trust for the rest of his 
young life! He had saved the boy's life, called in a major favor to protect him, and had killed for him. 
The ungrateful little...!! Lacroix was not just angry, he was hurt.
"Why would he not trust me?!" he asked, perplexed. Nick shook his head as he replied,
"I don't know. Have you said something to him? Done anything?"
"No, I do not believe so," Lacroix growled. Nick paused before suggesting,
"Maybe you should ask him." 
"Indeed." Lacroix took a swig from his glass.
Nick swallowed the rest of his drink and placed the glass on the bar as he rose from his stool.
"I'll collect him on Friday. You have until then to sort something out," he boldly told his sire.
Lacroix raised an eyebrow at his son's brazen statement, causing Nick to swallow suddenly and duck 
his head. But even so, Nick refused to back down.
"Very well." He accepted his son's claim of responsibility for the boy. Of course he was Nicholas's 
responsibility--he himself had made sure this was perfectly clear. 
Nick nodded and exited the club, leaving his sire to muse upon the enlightenment he had received in 
respect to his contemptuous grandson.
The next evening Lacroix left his sound booth and headed toward the bar to sate his rising hunger. 
As he passed the kitchen, he halted mid-stride when he saw Jordan washing glasses instead of the usual 
sight of his grandson.
"Where is Nicholas?" he asked from the doorway. Jordan smirked at him and carried on rinsing glasses 
and putting them into the rack to dry.
"Apparently he told Patrick that he quit."
"Quit?!"
"I believe so." Jordan was enjoying the reaction she was seeing flit across her lover's face. But when she 
saw the predicted anger rise, she wiped her hands dry and went over to him.
"Lucien. Be careful." 
Lacroix glared at her statement, and turned away from her, striding up the stairs.
Nicky jumped violently when Lacroix slammed open the living-room door.
"What are you doing?" Lacroix asked him in a level, tightly controlled voice, strongly belaying his 
actions.
"Watching TV," Nicky replied tersely and turned away from the vampire.
"You are supposed to be in the kitchen."
"I quit."
Lacroix closed his eyes, knowing they were glowing a bright gold.
"I did not give you permission to do so," he said, an edge of anger seeping in.
"I didn't ask." Nicky knew he'd crossed the final line at that point, but still he remained defiant.
"Go downstairs," Lacroix commanded.
"No."
"Pardon me!?"
"No!" Nicky's own anger had grown in volume by this time, and he turned back to glare back at his 
grandfather. He rose from the couch and faced the man in the doorway.
"It's not like you pay me or anything! I don't even want to be here!" Nicky shouted. "Do your own 
damn dishes!!"
Lacroix crossed the room, unhooking his belt as he went. The action didn't go unnoticed by Nicky, and 
he attempted to scuttle away from the advancing vampire, a large portion of fear now showing on his 
young face.
Lacroix doubled the leather over and held onto the buckle. He grabbed Nicky by the arm and raised 
the belt. Nicky flinched and covered his head with his hands as he saw the belt rise, but the firm grip on 
his arm stopped him from escaping.
The black leather came down. SLAP! Nicky winced, but didn't cry out. There was no pain. He slowly 
opened his eyes. 
Lacroix had brought the belt down hard, deviating its course at the last moment, hitting the couch with a 
loud thump instead. He looked down at the terrified child and growled; his fangs had dropped and his 
eyes were blazing. 
The moment Lacroix let go of his arm, Nicky bolted from the room. He didn't look back but ran down 
the hallway and up the stairs to the roof. He banged open the door and stumbled behind a utility box 
and sat, curled up into a ball, hiding.
Lacroix threw the belt forcefully onto the couch and then sat down beside it.
Jordan chose that moment to hurry into the room, having heard the ruckus from the bottom of the stairs 
where she had been eavesdropping.
She stared at Lacroix in horrified astonishment when she saw his belt lying beside him where he was 
slouched over with his head in his hands.
"Lucien! You didn't!"
"No, I didn't. Almost, but no." He raised his head and glared at her. Jordan walked over to him and sat 
down. She placed an arm around his shoulders and rested her head against his.
"Where is he?" she asked softly.
"I believe he is on the roof." Lacroix turned his head to face her.
"He doesn't trust me," he told her.
"What?! Why not?"
"I don't know."
"He's obviously angry with you over something. Remember, he's still just a child. He may misinterpret 
things or take certain words to heart which we wouldn't normally think twice about. Have you talked to 
him about it?"
Lacroix just shook his head as she repeated his son's earlier words.
"Then it's high time you did." Jordan stood up and pulled Lacroix up by the hands.
"I think I'd better have a drink first," he said quietly as he broke away and headed over to the bar to 
pour himself a healthy serving of his finest. Jordan handed him his belt to put back on as he felt his 
trousers slipping over his hips. 
"I don't understand why he doesn't trust me any longer. It's most irritating." He continued to frown as 
she followed him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Lacroix closed his eyes and leaned back into 
her embrace, savoring her warmth and support. 
How he had survived being so alone for so long escaped him as she rested her head against his back.
"Talk to him. Don't let the absence of communication happen with Nicky like it did with Nick, Lucien."
Lacroix pursed his lips and glared. He did not take well to parental criticism.especially when she was 
right. With a sigh, he finished his drink and placed his glass down on the bar. Pulling away from Jordan, 
he kissed her before moving toward the door. 
Stepping out onto the roof, he scoured the rooftop for his grandson. The child was easy enough to find-
-all he had to do was follow the sniffling sounds over behind the utility box. 
Nicholas was huddled up, his head buried into his knees. Lacroix sighed again. He hadn't intended to 
frighten or hurt the child. He'd lost control of his temper for the barest of moments. It would have been 
something he might have regretted later. His son would have at least made his life decidedly 
complicated.
"Nicholas," he spoke softly.
Nicky didn't move.
"Go away," came the muffled response.
Lacroix moved closer and sat down beside him on the tar and gravel roof. He suddenly noticed how 
cold it was out here--it was bound to snow any day now. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around 
the boy's shivering shoulders. 
"I...apologize for losing my temper with you, Nicholas."
"Whatever." Sniff. Defient to the end. Lacroix almost smiled.
"But you understand why I was so angry," he asked him calmly. The boy hesitated a moment before 
answering softly.
"Yes."
Lacroix sighed again. This was going to be difficult.
"I wish to ask you something," he said. Nicholas remained silent, so he continued.
"I need to know why you no longer trust me." Lacroix waited quietly until the boy finally answered. 
Nicky lifted his head slightly in order to speak clearly.
"I was in the storeroom," he told him quietly.
"The storeroom?"
"I heard you talking to Jeremiah."
Lacroix paled. No. Not again. This wasn't possible! This could not happen twice to the same person! 
Life wouldn't be so cruel. He rose to his feet and paced a few feet away. Turning, he saw the anger and 
the disappointment of betrayal in the boy's eyes. 
Life could be cruel. He should have known better than to have even contemplated anything different. He 
rubbed fingers across his forehead and closed his eyes as he recalled his conversation with the younger 
vampire.
<<<<<
"You will deal with the mortal, Jeremiah! Or I will! "
"But, Lacroix! I have tried. He doesn't respond.I think he's a resistor."
"Then you know what you must do." Lacroix's calm, commanding voice filtered clearly through the 
storeroom wall.
Nicky had his ear pressed tightly against the plaster and was eavesdropping in on his grandfather's 
affairs.
"And what of, Frederick?" Jeremiah asked.
"He will be dealt with accordingly," Lacroix answered.
"So it is true. He is a half breed."
"It is true."
"He is a hunter?"
"He is showing the early signs of becoming one."
"But you will be sure...before you kill him?" Jeremiah braved. Nicky's eyes widened as he listened.
"Of course."
"And if he is not?"
"Then he will be asked to leave the Community."
"And if he refuses?"
"He will die."
Nicky moved slowly away from the wall, staring at it as if it had come alive. He couldn't believe what he 
had just heard his grandfather say. He ran from the room and hid up on the roof and cried.
>>>>>
 
This was how he had driven away the boy's mother. She, too, had overheard a similar conversation. 
She had denounced him and fled, never to see or speak with him again.
"You don't like humans," Nicky confirmed.
"Not as a rule."
"You don't like half breeds either."
"They can be a dangerous threat."
"What am I? Am I dangerous? Will you kill me?" 
Lacroix turned back to the boy as he uttered the unbelievable words. He went back to Nicholas and 
crouched before him.
"You are my grandson."
"But is it enough?" Nicky whispered. Lacroix frowned.
"Yes."
Nicky glanced up at the vampire again. 
"You may have to kill me."
"No." Lacroix declared.
"How do you know? How do you know that I won't become a hunter!?" Nicky's voice was growing in 
volume as he spoke. "If I do, someone will have to kill me! And I don't want it to be Dad!" Nicky 
paused and turned away from Lacroix's bewildered gaze. He continued softly before Lacroix could 
respond.
"Promise me. Promise me you will kill me...if I become a hunter," he whispered. 
The young child turned tear-filled eyes back to Lacroix. They were brimming with a fierce determination 
of which Lacroix could only feel pride in seeing. Lacroix closed his eyes as the boy continued.
"I know you don't know. Nobody knows what I'll become." Nicky's voice dropped to a whisper 
again. "Promise me," he pleaded.
Lacroix just stared. He could hardly believe what he was hearing coming from the child's young lips. 
Kill him? He knew, even now, that he could not. Instead of answering, he hesitantly at first, 
unaccustomed to such displays of emotion, pulled the boy to his chest and held him.
"You are my grandson, Nicholas, my family. I will always protect you...even from my own bigotry." The 
latter he whispered more to himself. His eyes closed as he felt Nicky tighten his hold around him and 
buried his head in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry I swore at you," Nicky mumbled a minute or so later, still firm in his embrace.
"Yes, well, let us pretend, perhaps, this last month never happened, shall we?" Lacroix suggested lightly, 
lifting his head to look at the boy.
Nicky smiled and looked up at his grandfather's smile.
"Ok." They sat there for a moment longer before Nicky suddenly whined,
"Grandfather, can we go inside now? I'm cold and it's beginning to snow."
Lacroix stood, hauling Nicky up with him and into his arms. With the boy's legs wrapped tightly around 
his waist, he took his grandson into the warmth of the Raven.
End part 5
 
Finis. 
Tune in for the next exciting episode.same bat time.same bat channel!