General Mischief, Part 1 of 3 By Elise Natalie stared in disbelief as Nick sat beside her offering eternal life as his immortal bride. The angelic smile surrounding his sharp, white fangs seemed a visual oxymoron and brought a nervous giggle to her lips. "Are you sure, Nick?" she whispered. "Once done, there's no going back." Nick's smile widened. "But there is, Nat," he reminded her. "The cure you developed." "I'd almost forgotten. As soon as our bags come in, I'll get started on a double dose of the serum." "One for each of us," he told her. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. "Ready?" He nuzzled her throat, kissing and tasting her soft flesh. Natalie had spent the past two years dreaming of this very moment, the moment when Nick would make love to her, claim her, take her as his wife. Just two days ago they were wed, and now he was ready to bring her over. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by fear. What would it feel like to die? What would it be like to fight the bloodlust? To live in the dark, never to see the light of day? Natalie shivered and tried to push away from Nick. "No fear, my love," Nick cooed to her. He lay Natalie back on the bed and began to unbutton her blouse. "Fear nothing, sweet Natalie," he murmured. "I shall be with you." "But, Nick," Nat cried, struggling to sit back up, "you haven't exactly had a lot of success with bringing someone across." Valiantly, she tried to keep her thoughts coherent. His touch and her own raging hormones were making that terribly difficult at the moment. "Maybe we should get another vampire to help, to make sure everything goes okay." Nick growled deeply in his throat. He had her blouse open and, using his fangs, snapped her bra in two. Grinning wildly, he sat up, her bra in his mouth and with a shake of his head, flung it across the room. Natalie's voice raised in pitch. "Like maybe that nice Aristotle. I'm sure he could help. Oh my!" She was unable to voice her last thought because Nick was scraping his fangs across her breasts, drawing twin beads of blood. "Relax, my love," Nick said with the beast's voice. Hungrily, he lapped the blood. Then with a sudden flurry of vampiric speed, he'd undressed himself. With a gasp of pleasure, Natalie saw him unclothed. He was beautiful, and she couldn't stop herself from touching him. "Nick," she sighed softly. His mouth answered her cry, and for a long time they kissed deeply. Natalie ran her hands through his blond curls and touched his body as she had so longed to do. Nick grinned and continued using his fangs to tear her clothing to bits. "Are you a vampire or a werewolf?" she teased him. He did, in fact, resemble a puppy intent on shredding the Sunday paper. When the last of her clothing had been duly ripped away, Nick began to pleasure her body. * * * LaCroix had just finished cleaning the apartment. It was spic and span, and he was rather proud of himself. It was after ten o'clock, and the General was getting ready to turn in. He found he was rather tired. After showering he found the one pair of pajamas Janette had sent and donned them. He sighed in disgust realizing how many things he would need as a mortal. Worst, it meant he would have to do the marketing for himself. Grabbing a pen and notepad he found on the bedside table, LaCroix began a list of items he would need. The doorbell rang jolting him from his task. Who can that be at this hour? LaCroix searched momentarily for his bathrobe but was unable to locate it. "Janette probably did not pack it on purpose just as she forgot my toothbrush," he muttered aloud. "I am coming. I am coming," he warned the insistent doorbell ringer. Remembering Natalie's warnings, LaCroix peeped through the security hole and saw his old friend, Aristotle. Hurriedly, he opened the door to admit the vampire and offered him a seat on the couch. "What brings you to my door at this hour of the night?" LaCroix asked bluntly. "I have here your necessary documents to secure you a teaching position." He held out a large manila envelope. "You should report to Dr. Bradley at Gilbert Elementary School tomorrow morning at 8:00A.M." "Why can I not continue with my radio show?" he demanded. Aristotle frowned and nodded to himself. "As the station belongs to you and is considered part of your vampire assets, you may not benefit from its use. I am sorry." Again, he held out the envelope. Lucien LaCroix took the proffered envelope and nodded his head. "And my fortune?" he inquired. Aristotle pulled his lips into a tight line. "I'm sorry, old friend. I've had no luck in that department yet. I am to leave tonight at midnight to set the matter before the High Council." He stood abruptly. "I'll call as soon as I hear anything." He paused, considering something. Then coming to a decision, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. "Here are a few dollars. This should help you make ends meet until the end of the month when you receive your first paycheck." Shaking the older man's hand, LaCroix lead his guest to the door. "When" - he emphasized the word - "I return to my vampire state, I shall remember your kindness. Good night." Lucien LaCroix slowly shut and locked the door behind his friend and headed to bed. Tomorrow was likely to be a long day. * * * Nick had timed it perfectly. Both he and Nat achieved their climax simultaneously. With an unearthly roar, he threw back his head and plunged his razor sharp fangs into her jugular vein. Her sweet, rich blood pulsed forth into his mouth, and he cried with joy as he tasted the love she felt for him. Her pounding heart began to slow and her labored breathing became gasps as she fought to maintain her oxygen. Forcing himself to withdraw himself from her body, Nick sat up and slashed his own wrist, holding it to her mouth. "Drink, Natalie. Drink and join me, my love," he urged. As Natalie managed to swallow the first drops, an overwhelming craving for the red stuff, brimming with life, quickly engulfed her. Grasping his arm, Natalie held on tightly and sucked. Suddenly, she needed, wanted, craved, yearned for the sweet, bright blood filled with his love for her. "That is enough for now," Nick said as he pulled his arm away. He rubbed the wrist idly while watching her intently. She was beautiful, and now she was forever his. The full curves of her body were now alabaster and perfect. Her chestnut curls, gleaming in the meager light, were soft and silky. A strawberry colored tongue peeped out from behind her rosy lips to lick away the stray drops of his blood. He was utterly entranced by the sight of her. Slowly, Natalie opened her eyes and looked with passion darkened eyes at her husband. Her mouth parted to reveal sharp, curving fangs, which matched the softer curves of her body. Reaching out a hand to him, Natalie pulled him back down to the bed beside her. "Make love to me, Nick," she commanded. Nick grinned wickedly. "As you wish, my wife," he growled in return. * * * Nick rolled over and stared bleary eyed at the clock. It was seven in the morning. He couldn't believe it. Natalie had kept him making love all night - except for those few minutes when Miklos had brought over a case of the Raven's finest vintage. A newborn vampire, like all newborns, needed frequent feedings. Nick intended that Nat become the same moral sort of vampire as he was, but he also had to concede the fact that her first meal needed to be human. He didn't want her to become a carouche. "Nick?" she called out from somewhere in the tangled sheets. "Yes," he answered softly with a smile. Natalie's head popped through an opening in the sheet somewhere near his knee. "Make love to me," she demanded. Nick grinned and rubbed his chest with masculine pride. "I think I've created a monster." He flopped back against the pillows. "You do realize we've been at this since nine last night?" "Yep," Nat said. She began kissing his knees. "You know it's after sunrise?" "Yep." She held his knees in place and began kissing her way up his thighs. Nick wiggled a bit in distress. He wasn't sure just how much he could handle. Even a vampire's strength had its limits. Quickly, he captured her hands and pulled her up and away from her obvious destination. "Wouldn't you rather have a nice breakfast?" He held up a new, unopened bottle. "Then a catnap?" "Breakfast sounds good. You take the bottle, and I'll take a drink from your femoral artery." Nick popped the cork and took a long drink from the bottle. "Femoral artery? Where's that?" Natalie grinned wickedly. "You'll see." Then she disappeared under the covers. "Oh, Natalie!" Nick moaned aloud. His modern medical education was just beginning. * * * The alarm clock blared at 6:30 A.M. nearly scaring LaCroix to death. Bolting out of the bed, he shut off the clock and began to prepare for his first day at work. Work, he thought acidly, is simply another four letter word. Entering the cab, LaCroix directed the driver to take him to 101 Gateway. It was 7:20 A.M., and LaCroix intended to borrow the Caddy for the day. Nick would never even know it was gone. Besides, the General only had the few dollars from Aristotle. He couldn't afford to ride in a cab to work every day. LaCroix paid the cabbie and opened the garage doors. He removed the spare key from its holder near the lift doors, and just as he inserted the key into the lock, an odd sound drifted to his ears. No longer possessing the acute senses of the vampire, LaCroix couldn't quite place the noise. It sounded a great deal like the caterwauling of two cats in heat. "Well, at least Sydney has found a friend," he muttered. Then quietly he slipped behind the wheel and drove to the address Aristotle had given him. * * * Dr. Bradley, principal of Gilbert Elementary School, was a short, chunky, balding man. LaCroix towered over him by nearly a foot, but much to General's surprise, the little man shook hands with gusto. "We certainly are glad to have a man with your credentials teaching in our schools," Dr. Bradley told LaCroix as he pumped his arm enthusiastically. "It's not often we have men interested in elementary grades. I was pleasantly surprised when your application and resume crossed my desk." He let go of LaCroix's nearly numb arm. Gesturing to the door, he led the former Master Vampire out into the hallway. "Yes, sir, and it was such perfect timing, too. Mrs. Zolkwoski, whom you'll be replacing, is out on maternity leave." He looked up at LaCroix. "Triplets! Can you believe it?" He chuckled and shook his head. LaCroix looked around with a growing sense of dread and irritation. Noisy children, herded by their staring teachers, swarmed around them as they navigated the hall. Even to his mortal sense of smell, the place had a strange aroma. It smelled vaguely of cleaning fluid, crayons, and hot grease. The little man in front of him was chattering away in a most annoying manner. "Here's the room now." He stopped in front of a gaily colored door, on which was a large cardboard tree cut-out. Arranged around the top of the tree were twenty red apple cut-outs, each bearing the name of a child. "This will be Mrs. Zolkowski's last day. You spend it with her getting to know the children and how things work around here, okay?" Dr. Bradley reached to open the classroom door but suddenly stopped. "Oh, and your Mentor teacher will be Mrs. Tawney next door. You'll meet her at lunch." When Dr. Bradley opened the door and pushed him through it, LaCroix felt the same sense of impending doom he had felt the night Vesuvius erupted. Twenty-one pairs of eyes swiveled in their direction. Then the whispered muttering began. "Is he going to be our new teacher?" "He looks mean." "Why is he dressed all in black?" "I don't like his haircut." "Class!" Mrs. Zolkowski bellowed loudly. "Is that how we act when we have a guest?" "No, Ma'am," the class intoned respectfully if not enthusiastically. "Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone," Dr. Bradley said as he ducked out of the door and headed back to the relative safety of the front office. LaCroix smiled weakly. Now he knew how Custer must have felt at Little Big Horn. * * * Nick winced with pain as he glanced at the clock. It read 8:27 A.M. Natalie had attacked him twice more since seven. Quietly, he eased from the bed. He certainly didn't want to disturb her much needed rest. She was, after all, still a newborn, and newborns of all kinds needed sleep and frequent feedings. Well, she'd had enough blood, his blood, last night. That was for sure. Grinning with masculine pride, he smiled down at his new bride and ran a hand gingerly across his body. It was covered with numerous bites, punctures, scratches, and bruises. How many times had they made love in the past twelve hours? He was unable to remember the exact count, but he was sure they had set a new record. He snagged a bottle from the crate and pulled the stopper as he headed into the bathroom. That's what he needed, a hot shower and a full bottle. Nick adjusted the temperature and spray before stepping into the steamy water. Then he settled himself on the bottom of the tub, allowing the spray to hit him squarely in the chest, before taking a long draught of the blood. Closing his eyes, he slumped back against the wall. Barely five minutes had passed before Nick felt the spray stop. He opened his eyes to find Natalie standing over him. The water slid down and around her body in a sensual caress. Her hair was tangled and wild looking as the humidity caused her curls to riot. Her eyes were a bright yellow, the color of sunlight, and her fangs practically curled over her full bottom lip. "What a delicious idea, Nick," she said. "I've always imagined taking a shower with you." Slowly, she settled to the floor of the tub, straddling his thighs. "You should be resting, Nat," he told her. "You're still a newborn." Can't I get five minutes rest? He thought to himself. Natalie settled herself upon him. "I am resting. See, I'm sitting," she pointed out wickedly. Nick's eyes closed briefly, and when they opened, they were the vampire yellow, too. She was resting all right. "Nat," he groaned as she sat more firmly and pressed down. "You're insatiable. I don't think I can satisfy you," he complained in a half-joking manner. "Then you rest. Doctor's orders," she told him with a grin. "Let me do all the work." Having no choice in the matter, Nick lay back as he was instructed. His last coherent thought was to wonder whether it was possible to be sexed to death. * * * "Children, this is Mr. LaCroix. He will be your new teacher while I am away," Mrs. Zolkowski explained. There was no reply from the children. They seemed, to LaCroix, to stare at him with malevolent intent. "Now, you're going to finish those friendly letters you've been working. When you're done, you should read your library book." Mrs. Zolkowski turned to LaCroix and gestured for him to pull up a chair. When he had done so, she began to explain to him the daily operations of the class. "If you have any problems, just ask Mrs. Tawney next door. She's been teaching for more than thirty years, so if she can't answer your question, I don't suppose there is an answer." "Excuse me, Mr. LaCroix?" A sturdy little girl with great big brown eyes and long brown braids was standing at LaCroix's elbow. The General was startled and jumped. How did the little thing move so quickly and quietly? "Yes, Jenny, what is it?" Mrs. Zolkowski asked. "I drew a picture to welcome, Mr. LaCroix to our class," she said, holding out a large sheet of notebook paper. LaCroix took the offered paper and lay it on the desk before him. It featured a tall stick figured dressed all in black. The stick-man had short cropped blond hair and was surrounded by dozens of smaller smiling stick figures. It wasn't a very flattering likeness, but the General smiled and took it in the spirit in which it was offered. "Thank you very much, Miss.." "Schanke," Mrs. Zolkowski supplied. LaCroix nodded his thanks and turned to the freckled face before him. "Thank you very much, Miss Schanke. I appreciate your thoughtfulness." Jenny Schanke smiled a gape-toothed grin and skipped back to her seat. End of Part 1 This is the fourth story in my silly series. It follows "LaCroix's Lament." I own none of the characters. I just thought I'd make a little light-hearted fun of them. That's all. No harm intended. Thanks to Stormy for beta-reading the last story as well as the grammar help from Penny. Anyone who cares to may archive. Adult innuendo, but I don't think it's any worse than some of the soaps, er, I mean "daytime dramas." General Mischief, Part 2 of 3 By Elise Ten thirty-six A.M. was the time according to the bedside clock. Nick lay very still not daring to even think loudly. He was afraid of waking his new bride. Natalie lay curled up asleep next to him. She had forced him to give it up twice before letting him out of the shower and then again before falling to sleep. His body was beginning to resemble a pin cushion. Levitating above the bed, Nick floated silently down the stairs. Once in the living area, he flipped on the large screen television, making sure to mute the sound. Then he checked the local weather forecast. When the screen flashed the words, "sunset at 5:58 P.M., " he sighed with relief and turned off the set. Hitting the speed dial button on the telephone, Nick pulled the phone as far into the kitchen area as the cord would allow. He waited impatiently for someone to answer. "Hello, Schanke residence." Myra's voice was cheerful this morning. "Myra?" Nick whispered hoarsely. "This is Nick. Let me speak to Don, please." "Nick? Oh, Donnie said you two were back. Now you two will have to come over for dinner one night. Donnie says my pot roast is out of this world, and.." Myra was so nice; Nick hated to interrupt her, but he didn't know how much time he may have left. Nat could wake up and attack him again at any minute. "Myra, I hate to cut you short," he interrupted her, "but I really have to speak to Schanke now." "Oh, okay. Donnie!" She didn't sound upset at all. There was a moment's fumbling until a froggy voice spoke up. "H'lo?" "Schanke, this is Nick. I need your help." Schanke was instantly awake. "Nick? What is it, Buddy?" he asked. Nick lowered his voice. "Could you call the loft tonight at 5:15 and tell me I need to come in to work?" "What? I don't get it. Why do you." "Schanke, just do it, okay? Tell Nat there's an emergency. Anything! Just insist that I have to be down there tonight. Will you do it?" he begged. "Yeah, yeah, I'll do," Schanke mumbled. "But you'd better have a good explanation. Jeez!" Then Don Schanke hung up the phone and rolled back over to sleep. Nick had barely put the receiver back in its cradle when Natalie came down the stairs. She looked for all the world like a succubus. "How did you get down here without my hearing?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. A lascivious pout settled about her mouth. She licked her lips as she stared at his nude body. Please not again, Nick begged silently. "I levitated." "Levitated?" she asked brightly. "I'd forgotten vampires can levitate. Would you show me how?" Thrilled to have her show an interest in anything besides sex, Nick smiled with relief. "Of course, Nat," he told her happily. Soon the two of them were floating about the loft. "Oh, Nick, this is wonderful!" she cried. Speeding up, she caught up with him and wrapped herself around him. "Imagine all the new positions we can manage. Have you ever done it in mid-air?" she asked giddily. "No," he confessed timidly. "You mean, `not yet,'" she supplied. Fiercely, Natalie kissed him and planted her fangs in his jugular. Nick's fangs grew long and hard, and his male anatomy copied the response. For once Nick was glad he was a vampire. Between his traitorous body and Natalie's sex drive, if he were mortal he'd soon be dead of exhaustion. * * * Mrs. Zolkwoski had gone home before lunch, leaving LaCroix in the capable hands of his Mentor teacher, Mrs. Tawney. The woman was a veritable fount of information, and LaCroix found himself enjoying her company immensely. Suddenly, their pleasant lunch was interrupted by a strange, elfin creature. "Are you going to eat your peaches, Mrs. Tawney?" Lucien LaCroix looked down at his elbow to find a small girl staring pleadingly into the face of his Mentor teacher. "No, I don't think I will, Lucy," Mrs. T. answered the girl. "Would you like to have them?" "You bet!" Then, quickly, before the woman had time to change her mind, the girl snatched up the two peach slices and vanished. LaCroix was appalled. "Her parents should teach her better manners," the General complained. "Lucienne lives in a foster home," Mrs. Tawney told him. "Lucienne?" The child's name as well as her appearance startled the General. He cast an appraising eye at the little girl. Although she had a slight frame and looked fragile, she was a beautiful child. Her long platinum blonde elflocks framed a heart shaped face filled to overflowing with her huge, luminous eyes. Those eyes, a clear and bright cerulean, were her most striking feature. Mrs. T. noticed how he was watching the child. "Her foster mother takes in four other foster children, and her monthly check from the government doesn't cover all the bills or put enough food on the table at times." The General now turned to look squarely at his Mentor teacher. She was a short lady, still petite, even though she must be somewhere in her sixties. Once fair hair, paled now with gray, was pulled up on her head, but her blue eyes were steely and the strength in them was more than match for his own. He liked this feisty little old lady. What a glorious woman she must have been in her youth. Pushing aside his tray (the food was nutritious, he was sure, but entirely unappetizing), he folded his arms on the table before him. She shrugged, lumping the shoulders of her navy blue sweater that had seen better days. "I guess putting food on their plates is more important than teaching them manners, wouldn't you say?" "I stand corrected," LaCroix answered with a bow of his head. He turned his head back to the fragile looking child. The General felt his heart go out to the child in a manner that he hadn't experience in more than two thousand years. The last time he had utterly lost his heart to a child was when his daughter Divia had been born. How he wished he could do something for her. Abruptly, he snapped his head around, eyes shining fiercely. "How long has she been in foster care?" he demanded. Mrs. Tawney eyed him speculatively. "Lucy? Nearly all her life," she told him. "She was found wandering the streets some five years ago. She was a toddler at the time, and no one has ever stepped forward to claim her." LaCroix's face clouded over with outrage. This angelic child? Abandoned? How could a parent abandon a child? Suddenly he wished he could take her in, shelter her, raise her, and give her all the things that a child should have. "Are you married, Mr. LaCroix?" Mrs. Tawney asked intently. "What?" he asked confused. "No, I am not." Puzzlement shown on his handsome features, features so like the tiny girl. "Why do you ask?" Nodding sagely, Mrs. Tawney told him. "Social services requires all prospective adoptive parents to be married." "I do not understand," LaCroix told her coldly. The gleam in her eye only shone brighter. "Of course you do, Mr. LaCroix," she told him in a conspiratorial whisper. "I know what you're thinking. I can read it in your face. You want to help that child, give her a better life. There's no harm in that. I've adopted four of my students who needed a home." LaCroix stared dumbfounded at the small woman. How could she possibly have guess what he was thinking. Slowly, he smiled and touched his temple with a graceful gesture. "Touche." * * * The clock proclaimed it noon. As a newborn vampire, Natalie should have been dead-to-the-world asleep. She wasn't. She was busy trying to awaken her husband. "Please, Nat," he begged, "just let me rest a while." He grabbed the pillow and pulled it down over his head. She pried the pillow up and began kissing, nibbling, and biting his ear. "I did let you rest," she told him. Now she was sucking on his earlobe. Nick was getting aroused in spite of himself. "Nat, a fifteen minute nap is not a rest," he complained and jerked the pillow back over his head more firmly this time. Natalie sat back on her heels with a huff. Then a slow, wicked grin crept over her vampiric features making her look nearly demonic. "That's okay, lover," she told Nick as she pulled away the sheet exposing his naked body. "I really don't need that end anyway." Soon she was kissing, nibbling, and biting him again. That's when the pillow hit the floor. * * * The afternoon progressed without too much trouble, and LaCroix soon found himself on the bus ramp standing next to Mrs. T. Perhaps he was showing favoritism, but he personally made sure that Lucy was safely seated on her bus. Mrs. Tawney didn't fail to notice and smiled broadly at him. Dr. Bradley ambled over. "And how was your first day?" he asked. "I survived," LaCroix quipped. Mrs. T. snorted. "That's because it's a Friday. Just wait until Monday morning." She moved off to help one of the stragglers onto a waiting bus. "Now, I'll need you to be here on Monday at 7:30 A.M. bright and early," Dr. Bradley informed LaCroix. "You'll be in charge of the fifth graders holding room." The principal nodded, smiled, and headed back across campus. The General later asked his Mentor exactly what Dr. Bradley had meant. "Mrs. T., what is meant by a `holding room'?" he asked, a puzzled expression on his face. She smiled, cracking lines all across her withered face. Her blue eyes danced merrily. "So, he's put that job on you already, has he?" She laughed and took him by the arm, ushering him back to the building. "You get to collect all the fifth graders in one large room and keep them from killing each other and you before school begins," she explained. Until lately, LaCroix would have taken the "killing" comment quite differently, and he shot his Mentor a sharp look, causing peels of merry laughter to escape. "I don't mean that literally," she said. Then she became rather serious and shook her head. "Then again, now days, some of these children go in for all sorts of violent games. They think killing or hurting others is cool, fun even." She looked up at him, a sad look in her old eyes. "They like music oozing with profanity and raw sex, video games and movies about murder and mayhem. The catch phrase of the day seems to be `It's all right as long as you don't get caught.'" LaCroix opened the door for Mrs. T. and followed her into the building. He thought long on her words, and his thoughts bothered him. Getting the room set for Monday morning occupied a good forty minutes of his time, but he still couldn't shut out her words. What she described was basically the vampire lifestyle, but a daylight version of it. Hurting and killing for pleasure was how he had lived for the past two millennia. Although he had never cared for vulgar language, he had engaged in more than his share of sex. Murder and mayhem had been his way of life. Why did it bother him now to think of these innocent mortal children learning the same lifestyle? To think of little Lucy growing up to face such a life? LaCroix shook his head as if that action could loosen such thoughts. He gathered his belongings and trekked to the faculty parking lot to retrieve Nick's Cadillac. It was nearly 4:00, and he still had some shopping to do before returning the Cadillac. He wasn't used to having time and concerns weigh so heavily upon him. With a sigh, he got behind the wheel, started the engine, and headed to the store. * * * The phone rang waking Natalie from her light doze. She pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" she answered huskily. Already, she could feel herself growing hot, thinking of her gorgeous husband sprawled out face down next to her. Absently, she reached out to stroke his alabaster skin. "Uh, Nat?" It was Schanke. "We're having a, uh, emergency of sorts down here, and I really need Nick to come down." Natalie's voice was cold and hard when she answered. "Nicholas is on vacation. Someone ruined our honeymoon to London, so we are having it here and now." Schanke hated this. "I know, I know, but, see, I really, really need Nick on this one." "Who is it?" Nick rolled over. He was silently hoping it was good old Schanke. Natalie handed him the phone. "It's your partner," she informed him. "Hello, Schanke, what is the problem?" Nick used his official voice. "Danged if I know," Schanke told him. "You said for me to call, and I am, though I don't mind telling you I feel like a dog lying to Natalie and all. And, man oh man, does she sound sincerely pissed." "I see," Nick said into the phone. He glanced back at Natalie and shook his head, a fake frown on his face. Natalie looked like a tiger about to pounce. Nick could swear he could almost see a tail swishing from side to side. He swallowed hard. "Are you absolutely certain the documents must be filed tonight?" He switched the phone to the other ear. "Could you swing by and pick me up?" "Yeah. I'll pick you up in half an hour. Oh, and Partner, you owe me a big explanation for this one," Schanke fussed through the phone line. "Goodbye." Nick set the phone back in place before turning to face his hellcat of a wife. "Look, Nat, Schanke needs me to finish some paperwork. He can't do it alone." He stood making sure to wrap one of the sheets around himself. "I won't be gone long. Maybe an hour or two," he said with a smile. Natalie was following him slowly across the bedroom, the lioness stalking her prey. Nick grinned lamely. He pointed to the clock on the bedside table. "It's five twenty-two," he told her. "I should be back by seven thirty, eight at the latest." Natalie was still advancing; Nick was backing away. "When I get home, we'll share a couple bottles of bloodwine and watch a movie. Just like old times, okay?" "Nope," she told him. Nick was actually fearful for his body at this point. He licked his lips nervously. "Maybe you'd like me to teach you to fly?" he asked hopefully. He had back into the bathroom by now, and she had him cornered. "Nope," she told him again as she wrapped her arms around his body. He swallowed before asking in a high pitched voice. "What then?" She smiled a lazy smile and licked her lips again. "When you get back, we'll try the hard positions." Nick nodded helplessly in answer to her statement. That's when she bit his neck. End of Part 2 This is the fourth story in my silly series. It follows "LaCroix's Lament." I own none of the characters. I just thought I'd make a little light-hearted fun of them. That's all. No harm intended. Thanks to Stormy for beta-reading the last story as well as the grammar help from Penny. Anyone who cares to may archive. Adult innuendo, but I don't think it's any worse than some of the soaps, er, I mean "daytime dramas." General Mischief, Part 3 of 3 By Elise LaCroix parked the Caddy in Natalie's parking place. It was after five, and as there was no hope of getting it back to the loft before his son awoke, he didn't bother trying. Heaving the load of packages up the stairs, he wondered what Nick would say when he found the Caddy missing. Perhaps he should call to say he would return it later that evening. Dumping his purchases on the couch, he picked up the phone and dialed the loft. It rang five times before Nick picked up. His son sounded strangely out of breath. "H'lo?" Nick gasped into the phone. LaCroix could hear feminine giggles in the background. Natalie no doubt. "Nicholas, I borrowed the Cadillac and have been unable to return the vehicle. As soon as.." "Fine," Nick told him in a muffled voice. The General heard some very strange sounds. There were grunts, groans, and weird humming noises. It sounded as if Nicholas and Natalie were moving furniture around the loft. "Bye." The phone clattered down. No sooner had LaCroix set his own telephone down when the doorbell rang. Peeping through the security hole, LaCroix spied a delivery boy. Carefully, he opened the door, mindful to keep the security chain in place, and looked out. "Yes?" he asked suspiciously. The boy pointed to four large suitcases on a cart beside him. "Delivery for a Dr. N. Lambert. Suitcases." "Just a moment," LaCroix smiled. Shutting the door momentarily and removing the chain, the General swung the door open wide and smiled at the fellow. "I am Dr. Nicholas Lambert," he said suavely. He eyed the cases before him possessively. "Sign here." While he did so, the boy unloaded the cases from the cart. When the boy had gone with his little pad and pen in hand, LaCroix hauled the luggage inside and bolted the door behind him. Like a mad Grinch, he ripped into the bags. Natalie's lessons on neatness were completely forgotten as he ransacked the contents of each bag in a frenzy to locate his prize. There they were, Natalie's disks with the formula for curing vampirism. He held them aloft, a dark gleam in his eye. Then he dashed for her computer, hastening to delve into their secrets. Lucien LaCroix was no doctor, but he had learned a few things in the past two thousand years. Chemistry was, in fact, one of his favorite subjects, but he could not understand one iota of the information on her disk. Savagely, he snapped off the computer and snatched the disk from the machine. The machine whined down to silence, and LaCroix sat brooding for a long while. Finally, hungry and irritable, he dragged himself into the kitchen and began preparing his evening meal. The ringing telephone startled him out of his reverie. "Yes?" he asked as he stirred the spaghetti sauce. "LaCroix? It's Aristotle. I have good news for you. The Council has agreed that you may keep your fortune. I am removing the freeze on your assets even as we speak." LaCroix heard in the background the chiming beep of a computer. "I'll check on you again when I get back to town. Goodnight." The General set the phone back in its cradle and returned to his tomato sauce. Vaguely, he wondered what Lucy was having for dinner, and the thought bothered him. * * * "What happened to you?" gasped Schanke. Shoes in hand, his partner had practically run out of the loft and thrown himself into Schanke's car. Nick was half dressed, his hair was still wet and uncombed, and his eyes were blood-shot beyond recognition. "Drive, Schanke," Nick ordered breathlessly. "Just drive." He turned and leaned out of the window to smile, wave, and blow kisses at a pale figure standing at the window. Schanke craned his head from the driver's side window to get a better look at the figure, and what he saw scared him. Gulping, he pulled his head quickly back inside the car. "Uh, Nick, was that Natalie standing at the window?" "Yeah," Nick admitted and slumped into the seat. Schanke took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. "That wild-haired, half-naked creature at the window?" He was sweating again. Reaching down to put on his shoes, Nick muttered, "Uh huh." Schanke jerked his head to the side and gulped. "Is that why you asked me to call you tonight?" "Yep." Nick leaned his head back against the head rest and closed his eyes. "Jeez Louise!" There was a long, awkward pause. "So, where you want to go?" "I don't care," Nick told him. "Anywhere I can get some sleep." * * * LaCroix smiled to himself as he drove towards the loft. He had the perfect plan in mind. First, he would offer the diskette with its cure to Nicholas and Natalie in exchange for a promise to find a way back across. Next, he would also play on Nicholas' over exaggerated sense of guilt and have them adopt little Lucy, assuring that the child would have a proper home. Natalie had said the cure had been created from dead vampire cells, and that it would make the recipient immune to that virus. Surely, though, she could find living cells that were strong enough to overcome the dead ones. Then he would be able to return to his rightful place as a master vampire. After he had parked the car next to Natalie's, the General entered the elevator and ascended to the loft. "Nicholas? Natalie?" he called out. The loft was dark, and LaCroix stumbled over some large, bulky object on the floor. Cursing on account of his bruised shin, LaCroix switched on the light. "A crate from the Raven?" he muttered to himself. "This is not like my son." Then loudly, he called again. "Nicholas? Nata." Before he could finish the word, something fast and powerful had snatched him up and pinned him to the couch. "Ooomph!" he cried, as the air was forced from his lungs. Amazement and shock set in when he was finally able to open his eyes and comprehend what he saw. Natalie, barely dressed, was resplendent in her full vampiric state. Blazing amber eyes penetrated his own cool blue ones, and sharp, white fangs curved delicately over her full bottom lip. "Sweet Jupiter!" he gasped. "You are exquisite." Natalie, still straddling her prey, sat back on her heels. "You really think so?" she asked. LaCroix could hardly stop staring at her. If he had known she was to turn out like this, he would have brought her over himself. "Oh, yes," he stated emphatically. "I am glad my son has finally come to his senses." Natalie leaned forward on his chest again. She sniffed his throat and licked the carotid artery. "Umm, you smell so good, like freshly baking bread." Her mouth was watering for this mortal's blood. Without a thought for her actions, Natalie plunged her fangs into his neck and drank deeply. His plans for returning the disk, his hopes for little Lucy, as well as his two thousand years of experience flooded her being and nearly overwhelmed her. Just as he was beginning die, Natalie withdrew, and guided by LaCroix's own memories, she bit her wrist and offered it to him. For a moment, the General lay limp beneath her, and her blood overflowed his mouth, running down his face and chin. "Please, LaCroix," she begged softly. "You have to come back. Nick will kill me if you don't." The clock ticked the precious moments away. Miraculously, he swallowed. That one swallow was followed by another until he was sucking eagerly at her wrist. When the crisis seemed over, Natalie removed her arm and helped the General to sitting position. In awkward silence they stared at one another. "I thought your `cure' made the recipient immune to the vampire virus," he croaked out. Natalie frowned. She walked over to the crate and took two bottles bearing the Raven's unique logo. Handing one to LaCroix, she opened the other for herself and plopped down beside him on the couch. For a long time, neither of them spoke but sat together in companionable silence like long time drinking buddies. Finishing the last swallow, Natalie returned the empty bottle to the crate and switched on Nick's computer. "Give me the disk, LaCroix," she told him. "I shall do nothing of the sort," LaCroix stated. He too returned the empty bottle to he crate and stood looking down at her. "I have now been returned to my proper place. I no longer require your help." He smiled and moved to the door. "Good evening, my dear Natalie." "Stop right there, Mister!" Natalie yelled. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. "If I understand this vampire business correctly," - she opened her eyes to glare at him - "and I am using your memories as a guide, I believe that you are now my son and I am your master." The General froze in horror. She was exactly correct in her estimation of the situation. He swallowed angrily and returned to her side. "Here," he offered her the disk. "Thank you." Natalie smiled sweetly as she slipped the disk into the machine. While she studied the screen intently, LaCroix sat sullenly on the couch. This was a most unexpected turn of events. One about which he was not at all happy. He was Nicholas' father. Natalie was Nicholas' wife. Did that now make him his own grandfather? He shook his head and lay it within his hands. "That's it!" Natalie shouted. She turned toward her long faced son. "I used Nick's blood as the basis for the serum so the immunity was only to his particular type of virus." LaCroix sat up. He was perplexed. "I do not understand." "When the vampire virus enters a new host," Natalie explained, "it mutates itself to match the host's unique DNA structure. My serum, the serum that cured you, was based on Nick's blood. It allowed you to return to a mortal state, but since it was not developed especially for you, it would not hold you in that state in the event that you were re-infected." As he digested this bit of happy news, LaCroix began to understand. He smiled at his new master. "If the serum had been injected into Nicholas as it had been intended, he would have achieved immunity." Natalie nodded. "Now all I have to do is reconstruct a separate serum for me and one for Nick," she told him happily. "And you will help me do it." "Not I, Madame," he returned coldly. "Oh, yes, you will, Son," she answered triumphantly. When she saw the miserable look on his face, she softened. "You will help me create a permanent cure for me and Nick, and in return, Nick and I will adopt that little girl." LaCroix eyed her thoughtfully. That was exactly the plan of action he had hoped to set in motion. Of course, that had been before he found himself mastered instead of the master. Natalie saw the interest in his eye. "And," she added icing to the cake, "when I return to mortality with Nick, I'll release all authority over you and give you your freedom." The General's eyes gleamed with desire. "It's a deal," he told her. * * * "Nick," a voice sounded through the fog. "Hey, Nick, wake up." "Please, Nat," Nick begged as he rolled over, "I need ten more minutes." There was a small snort. "It's me, Schanke," the voice insisted. "You've been asleep for hours. C'mon and get up. I need to take you home." Nick Knight sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He blinked at his partner who stood over him. "What time is it? Where am I?" he muttered. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Nick recognized the room. He was in Schanke's guest bedroom. Apparently his partner had brought him home to get some rest. "What time is it?" he asked squinting at the bedside clock. It showed nearly four in the morning. "Jeez, Nick, you really are out of it," Schanke said sympathetically. He lowered his voice. "Did Natalie really wear you out that bad?" Nick frowned at Schanke. A gentleman never carried tales. "Could you take me home, Schanke? I'm sure Natalie is wondering where I am. I told her I'd be back by eight." * * * When he stepped out of the elevator into the loft, Nick was relieved to find his beautiful bride asleep on the couch. He tiptoed to the refrigerator and opened it searching for a dark, green bottle. There was only one left. Only one? There were six when he left, plus the three from the Raven's crate. Pulling it out and closing the door, he popped the cork and took a long drink. It was good. Nick shook his head. Had Natalie guzzled the other eight bottles on her own? Well, if he had to judge her hunger by her sexual appetite, it was a wonder she had left him the one bottle. He sat down in the chair next to the couch and looked at her with awe. He'd have to order another crate and soon. Turning up the bottle for another long drink, Nick kicked off his shoes and reached for the remote. He set the shutters on automatic to close before sunrise and switched on the television, turning the volume way down below a mortal's hearing level. He'd been channel surfing for several minutes Natalie awoke. "Hi," she muttered sleepily. "When did you get home?" Nat sat up and curled her feet under her. "Just a few minutes ago," he answered She took the remote from him, turned to a movie channel, and put the device on the table. "I'm so glad you're home." "Me, too." He smiled at her. They sat together for a while watching television. Nick took several more drinks from his bottle, offering Natalie a drink each time as well, but she declined. Downing the last swallow, Nick set the bottle on the floor. "That was the last. Guess I ought to call the Raven and order another crate." He eyed his wife and grinned. "Maybe two." Natalie laughed. "I don't think so," she told him. "In fact, I don't think we'll need to ever again." Nick frowned in puzzlement. "What do you mean, Nat." "I have a big surprise for you, Nick," she grinned at him. "LaCroix came over while you were gone, and he and I worked on the `cure' problem." Grasping her shoulders tightly, Nick cried, "Nat, LaCroix is mortal now. You didn't hurt him, did you?" "Well," she admitted sheepishly, "let's just say he's back to his old self." Nick looked at her with fear and disbelief in his eyes. "I brought him back across. I couldn't stop myself." Still Nick continued to stare at her in shock. "What? How?" Natalie related to him the details of this night's work, and when she was done, she showed him the two syringes filled with a thick, clear fluid. "This is it, Nick," she whispered. "The real thing." "And all we have to do is adopt this little girl?" he asked skeptically. "What's wrong with her? Is she Lizzie Borden's evil twin?" "No, Nick," Natalie said with a laugh. "I saw everything very clearly through LaCroix's blood. It's all on the level." "He has promised to leave us in peace and let us live our lives as mortals?" he asked. When she nodded, Nick continued, "So what does he get out of this? Peace of mind concerning the child?" He couldn't quite accept all of this. "Yes, that's all he asked for," Natalie said, "except that he asked me to prepare a gallon of this for himself." She pointed to the syringes. "Why would he want a gallon of the cure?" "Beats me." She shrugged. "So," she stated as she held the first hypodermic aloft, "are you ready?" Nick rolled up his sleeve in answer. * * * Saturday night. The party had been roaring along splendidly for over an hour when LaCroix arrived. Standing behind the bar, the General called out, "May I have your attention, Ladies and Gentlemen?" When the hubbub died down, he spoke more softly. "I would like to thank you all for attending my party tonight. I have recently regained my proper status as Master Vampire as well as control over my finances and thought I would show my gratitude by hosting this celebration." The crowd rumbled with pleasure. The new Lucien LaCroix was turning out to be a much better sport than the old one. LaCroix waved his hand over the bar whereupon sat enough crystal goblets for the entire assemblage. "This is from my oldest and finest vintage," he told them as Brianna and Miklos handed out a glass to each vampire present. "I want each of you to know as you drink that I hold no grudges. Now that I have returned to the Community, I am able to appreciate the humor of the situation." LaCroix chuckled and smiled. "And now, I should like to propose a toast." He held his own glass high. Everyone raised his glass as well. "Over the lips and past the gums, look out stomach, here it comes!" The throng of vampires stared at LaCroix as if he had gone quite mad. Indeed, perhaps he had, and no wonder considering the stress the poor fellow was had been under. But as LaCroix lifted his own glass to his lips, all of them tossed back their drinks as well. When the last drop had been swallowed and the last goblet set down, Lucien LaCroix broke into laughter. It was a wild, maniacal, Vincent Price laugh, and it chilled the blood of everyone who heard it. Janette was very concerned and approached her father carefully. "Hush that screeching, LaCroix! You will ruin the party." Then a sudden wooziness came over her, and she fell to the floor in a drunken stupor. All around the Raven, vampires were dropping onto the floor like flies. LaCroix's laughter rang out louder than ever until he was forced to sit down on a barstool and wipe the tears from his eyes. Raising his glass in a final salute, the General roared loudly, "Welcome to mortality, my children!" The end. Maybe.