EYE OF THE BEHOLDER 

Standard disclaimers apply.  Nick, Nat, and the FK gang 
don't belong to me, except for the characters of Alihra and 
Elohr, both of which are the creations of my own, warped 
little mind.  Any similarities to other stories or real 
life occurrences are coincidental/unintentional.  Permission 
is granted to archive on fkfanfic.com and the ftp site.  All 
others please ask so that I can keep track of it. 

This fanfic is fourth in my Darkness series, which started 
with When Darkness Falls, and was followed by The Light Must 
Follow, and And So I Walk Into The Fire.  Although it is not 
necessary to have read those previous stories in order to 
understand what is going on in this one, you may find this 
more enjoyable if you have read them.  In any case, all 
stories in this series are available at my web site, at 
http://filebox.vt.edu/users/diharris/Homepage.htm

This is a NNPacker story, although Janette, Schanke, and 
my own characters make many appearances.  This is likely to 
be the last story in this series, I think I've finally come 
to a good stopping point :)  

I would like to profusely thank my beta reader, Lois 
Frankel, for all the patience she's had with my bad grammar 
and interesting typos :)  I'd also like to thank Laurie and 
Neil for their aid in my French translations, they were a 
big help even if it was just a small part!

Thanks for all the feedback I've received on the previous 
stories in this series, it's kept me writing fervently on 
what's become my longest story ever.  All comments, 
questions, flames, and whatnot may be sent to me, at 
aria5@vt.edu.  Flames, however, will be promptly 
discarded :)  

Anyhoo, you can read now :)

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (1/21)

The pale, full moon drifted overhead in the murky black sky, 
its silver halo crowning it with a ring of icy mist.  As its 
cold light fell in a soft blanket over the cave-like alley,  
a medium-height, stocky man stood in the darkness looking 
upwards towards it, the embers of his slowly dying cigarette 
glowing like hot glass in a fire.  After taking one last 
puff, he threw the thin white cancer stick to the ground and 
snuffed it out with a leather booted foot. 

He could hear carolers in the distance, faintly singing 
Carol of the Bells and he shook his head.  How they could 
stand out there for so long was beyond him.  It was cold, 
damnit!  And as far as he was concerned, he was just not in 
the Christmas spirit.  He glanced around fruitlessly in the 
darkness.  This, was a frozen Hell.  That's what it was.  
Stomping his feet lightly, he jumped up and down a bit to 
increase his circulation, debating whether he wanted to stay 
outside long enough to smoke another cigarette. 

Drawing his hands to his mouth in two tightly clenched 
fists, he blew his smoky breath onto to his heavily 
callused fingers in a last ditch attempt to warm them.  He 
cursed to himself softly.  It was so damn cold out!  Why'd 
they have to make him take his smoking breaks outside?  
Stomping his foot, he turned towards the door with all 
intents of going back to work, but something stopped him, 
and he turned back to peer into the frigid, tenebrous alley.  

He shivered, more out of coldness than of nervousness.  His 
thick black parka was not serving its function at all.  In 
all his years in the city of Toronto, he'd not once 
experienced such nipping cold.  The chill was seeping in 
through his bones and at once it made him feel desperately 
lonely.  Cold...  Too much like death for his liking.  

He shook his mane of flame-red hair as if he half-expected 
it to be frozen solid.  It wasn't, but if he'd had the 
unfortunate chance of getting wet he would've found himself 
with a head full of pointy red icicles.  Something the 
teenagers of today would've probably made into a cool new 
fashion.  Literally cool...  

Shrugging off the biting air as if it were a caustic insult, 
he turned once again towards the inviting brown door.  
Inviting him to warmth and security.  Its arms were 
beckoning.  Come inside, Harry.  It's warm.  Come on, you're 
done with your cigarette...  He placed his frozen hand on 
the handle and pulled the door open a couple inches.  Time 
to go in, he'd had enough of contemplating the bitter 
coldness.

<EEEEIIIII>

It echoed through the alley like a screeching bird of prey, 
the high pitched scream assaulting the brick walls and his 
ears until he felt that his fragile eardrums were about to 
melt.  His hands immediately flew from the door handle and 
clapped over his cherry-red, frostbitten ears.  "Who...  
who's there?" he cried, terrified at what specter could make 
such an ungodly noise.

Only the wafting chill of soft northern wind greeted him.  
He would've passed it off as his own overactive imagination 
if it weren't for his ringing, throbbing ears.  

<CLICK CLICK CLICK>

It sounded like the spiked heal of a woman's pump on the 
pavement and he threw his glance wildly about trying to 
pinpoint the sound, but the echoes provided by the alley 
walls made it next to impossible.  "Hello???" he called 
again, his voice wavering nervously like a runaway seesaw 
as he fought to keep his calm.

Something flew past his face, the cool whiplash of air 
shocking his already flushed, frozen cheeks.  That was it...  
He turned to dash inside, he wasn't up for these games.  It 
must be someone from the office trying to play tricks on 
him.  Tricks.  That was it.  

But he was stopped as a pair of bony thin arms snaked around 
him and pushed the air out of his lungs with a sharp 
squeeze.  The exhalation of breath was like a pitiful yelp, 
and he slowly started to panic when the crushing grip would 
not let him inhale again.  Standing there in quiet terror, 
he felt the world begin to dim as his oxygen-deprived brain 
began to shut down.  But just when he thought it was the 
end, the arms loosened, and he drew in a desperate breath, 
his lungs whistling as they spasmodically sucked in as much 
air as they could.  He felt warm, moist breath on the nape 
of his neck slowly move around to his ear as he panted 
wildly in terror, his breath escaping from his chapped lips 
into heavy clouds of twisting vapor.  

"Don't say a word..." the whisper came like a tinkle of 
heavenly bells, as if an angel itself had come to speak with 
him.  It was a woman, that he was sure of, and for some 
reason he felt his fear siphoning out of him.  He became 
relaxed and yet somehow exhilarated at the same time as an 
acrylic nailed finger traced patterns in the short, soft, 
fuzzy hair that littered the back of his neck.

He shuddered and he felt himself becoming strangely 
aroused.  The danger, the passion.  It was all so 
enticing...  He was ripped from his fantasies, however, when 
the mysterious woman roughly turned him around and planted a 
wet kiss on his lips.  Deep and fulfilling, he was shivering 
in ecstasy before he even had a chance to look her in the 
eyes.  His brain felt like it was about to explode and he 
grabbed at her, kissing her back wildly and wondering at the 
same time what the Hell he was doing.  Kissing a complete 
stranger in the freezing, darkened alley?  This was not the 
thing he would've imagined himself spending his night doing.

But he somehow didn't care.  He was in the arms of a goddess 
to behold.  A goddess.  He didn't care.  It felt too damn 
good for him to care, and as he groped at her deliriously
unrestrained, he felt a fiery warmth replace the bitter 
cold that had inhabited him only minutes before.      

Finally, in desperate need of air, he pulled back and took a 
deep breath.  "Who..." he started to ask breathlessly, but 
she clapped her hand over his lips before he could utter 
another word.  

"It doesn't matter..." she stated quietly, her deathly pale 
skin gauntly stretched across her face to the point that she 
looked unnatural.  Like some creature not of this earth.  He 
sighed dreamily.  Not a creature of this earth...  An 
angel...  

Her eyes even seemed to glow a glittery golden hue, shining 
forth like two suns in a blackened sky, their brilliant 
fires blinding all those who dared to look.  "Close your 
eyes..." she commanded.

He could hear his own heart thundering in his ears, and as 
he stared at those beautiful eyes, the rest of his world 
became black.  All he saw were the eyes.  Two floating orbs 
of sunlight in the abyss, calling to him longingly to obey.  
Without even consciously willing them to do so, he felt his 
eyes lazily droop shut as he took in another breath, 
anticipating the further ecstasy that was to come.

A bestial growl rumbled through the alley, but he was too 
lost to care.  Lost in his own drumming heartbeat, thumping 
wildly.  Cold, gnarly fingers unzipped his parka and drew 
the confining fabric away from his pulsing jugular.  His 
mind began to drift to a far away place as he felt a sharp 
prick in his neck.  

Now...  You are mine...

He didn't hear it really.  He just knew it.  And that was 
when he felt his consciousness slipping away through the 
cracks, into the dim shadows that suffocated the alley.  

Mine.  

His body slipped to the ground of the alley with an echoing 
thud, the mysterious woman already long gone.  True darkness 
slid forth over the cool pavement as the clouds finally 
overtook the weeping, defeated moon.  And as the cold wind 
began to blow more fervently, glittering snowflakes, like 
facets of a crystal in a gleaming sunrise, fell softly to 
the ground and coated the still corpse with a light dusting 
of winter frost.

*****         

**This is the end of part 1/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (2/21)

Natalie stared at the vial of liquid on the table in quiet 
anticipation.  Lyzatrex.  An experimental drug, very similar 
to Lidovuterine B in chemical components except that unlike 
Lidovuterine, it was meant to stimulate red blood cell 
growth in anemics.  Lidovuterine had been the closest she'd 
every gotten Nick to a cure.  If she could just find some 
derivative of it that worked without the addictive and other 
psychological effects, she'd have a great start as long as 
the vampire element in Nick's blood didn't keep regenerating 
like it had for the Lidovuterine.  

Staring hard at the tiny vial, she sighed.  She desperately 
wanted to test it, but... if she did, was she prepared for 
yet another failure?  She glanced down to her outstretched 
hand, simply frozen in midair as if it were inanimate.  The 
muscles ached, but for some reason, she simply couldn't 
bring herself to advance.  

With her free hand, she brushed a stray brown curl out of 
her face, away from her wide eyes.  Taking a deep breath, 
she laughed heartily when she noticed that the rubber 
dropper in her hand was getting slightly damp from her own
perspiration.  Why was she so nervous?  It wasn't like this 
test would have any real bearing on anything...  

Well, yes, actually, it would...  If it worked, Nick would 
be the happiest man alive.  And if it worked, it would be 
the happiest day of her life since Nick had returned to her.  
Because it would mean that he could become mortal.  Nick, 
her angsty vampire lover, her _best friend_, would have his 
one great wish.  The most precious wish in his entire life.  
One that had never truly been granted.  The Lidovuterine had 
given him a taste of what was to come, but its psychotropic 
effects had ruined any enjoyment he would've gotten out of 
it.  

She brushed a tear away from her eye.  There were so many 
ways they could've spent that one day in the sun...  and 
she'd chosen to be the scientific one and act skeptic.  It 
pained her to realize that even if he'd suggested a simple 
thing like a picnic or a walk in the park, she probably 
would've told him that it wasn't a good idea and that he 
should stay inside.  True, they hadn't been romantically 
involved at the time, but they could've done _something_ 
special...  Like, she'd always wanted to see what he thought 
of chocolate, and she hadn't even forced him to sample a 
Milky Way, or double fudge ice-cream.  What a crime!      

But enough of that.  If the test worked...  She sighed, 
trying to ignore the little voice in her head asking her 
doubting mind what would happen if it didn't work, even 
though she already realized that the odds against this were 
nearly insurmountable.  Nick had developed a pretty 
reasonable immunity to the Lidovuterine.  It was doubtful 
that this Lyzatrex serum was different enough to work to its 
full capacity, if at all.  

Nat realized with a laugh, that unintentionally, she had 
shifted her thoughts to the negative side once again.  
Enough!  This was the first possible cure she'd managed to 
research since Nick had returned.  She had to be positive!  
It wasn't like Nick would know if it didn't work.  She 
hadn't even told him that she was getting close to something 
yet.  She didn't want to get his hopes up.  But what about 
her hopes?  She realized it was too late to save them from 
their trip into the rafters.  

Nat shook her head.  This would work.  It _would_ work.  
Yeah, that was right, be an optimist...  With a firm new 
resolve, she took the dropper still waiting patiently in her 
clammy hand and dipped it into the vial of pale blue liquid, 
loosening her grip on the rubber end of the dropper to suck 
some of the Lyzatrex into it.  

Lifting the dropper from the vial, she glanced at it only 
briefly before sweeping her hand across the table towards 
the slide that held a small sample of Nick's blood.  With 
one final deep breath of anticipation, she squeezed the 
rubber lightly, slowly dripping out a few drops of the 
liquid onto the slide.   

Like a flash she was at her new microscope, gasping slightly 
as she saw what was happening on that small slide.  The 
Lyzatrex was overwhelming the extra nucleotides in Nick's 
blood, completely obliterating them.  It was as if they were 
just exploding.  And then nothing.  She was suddenly staring 
at a very normal looking, human blood sample.  Woah...  

She smiled as she stared at the slide.  That had happened 
really fast.  And it appeared to be working.  The only 
problem was that a violent reaction like that probably meant 
it was going to hurt if she injected Nick with it.  
Obviously, there were a few more things she'd have to look 
into, but...  She bit her lower lip, already starting to 
worry a bit.  How to bring this up with Nick?  

The results of the last drug test she'd tried with Nick had 
been very disturbing for her.  For Nick it must've been a 
nightmare.  She still remembered what she'd walked in on in 
the loft.  Nick had gone home after giving his statement 
regarding Vinetti, and she'd gone over a few hours late to 
check on him.  Nothing had prepared her what she saw.  

FLASHBACK - TORONTO 1995

She entered the loft to find him huddled in the corner by 
the steps, shaking like a leaf caught in a breeze.  His arms 
were clasped around his knees with a vice-like, white-
knuckled grip as if he were afraid he'd fall apart if he let 
them go.  And slightly threatening, she couldn't tell if he 
was vamped out or not because his forehead was resting on 
his forearm, safely tucking his face away from view.  
"Nick?" she said with worry, afraid that he was wallowing in 
their failure to cure him.  The Lidovuterine had been a 
terrible mistake.  A terrible mistake...  

He looked up in her direction, but it appeared as if he 
wasn't actually seeing her.  His glassy golden eyes wandered 
back and forth minutely as if they couldn't focus and she 
felt her heart quicken slightly in fear.  He was obviously 
in the grips of his vampiric side, and she briefly found 
herself contemplating the danger she was in but when she 
heard him moan as if in some discomfort she forgot all about 
it.  "Nick?" she called again hesitantly as she walked over 
to him.

He still said nothing, only continuing to stare blankly in 
her general direction.  Something was wrong.  Very wrong.  
His breathing was ragged, and she could hear it rasping in 
his throat as if it were causing him pain.  Very concerned, 
she sat beside him and placed her hand on his trembling 
shoulder, only now noticing that his silky blue shirt was 
ruined with the red wetness of his sweat.  Her touch 
finally registered with him, and he practically leapt out of 
his skin, growling wildly with his fangs extended.    

"Woah!  Nick, it's me!  Nat!"  He flailed blindly and let 
out a small sob, blood tears trickling down his pale face.  
Nat hugged him to her tightly.  "Nick, what's wrong?" she 
asked quietly as his sob became sobs, and then full blown 
crying.  It was shocking, and she was at a complete loss as 
to what to do.  She'd never _ever_ seen him cry.  Never.  
He was not one to show his emotions so unchecked...

"Nat..." he gasped as he pulled himself out of her embrace.  
The look in his eyes was enough to make her want to cry 
right along with him.  It wasn't so much the pain evident 
in his sullen eyes, but more the look of being utterly lost.  
"I can't...  I can't stop my hands from shaking..." he said 
pitifully, holding up his hands for her to see as if that 
was the worst of his troubles.  True to his word though, 
his hands were trembling despite his obvious attempts to 
hold them still.  

As Nick groaned in frustration, staring at his hands with a 
look of utter consternation, Nat finally realized what was 
going on.  It was withdrawal.  The Lidovuterine had had 
addictive properties, and now he'd come crashing down off 
the high of the past night when he'd caught Vinetti.  He'd 
seemed all right then, but he'd gone home almost immediately 
after they'd taken his statement.  She hadn't thought 
anything of it.  But she should have...

She looked at his trembling hands for only a second before 
she clasped them warmly in-between her own.  Even then, she 
could still feel them shaking in her grasp.  "Nick, shhh, 
it'll be all right," she said softly.  It felt fake telling 
him that he'd be all right.  She knew that some addicts 
never got over their cravings, and that they went through 
life constantly reminding themselves not to give in...  What 
had she done?

"Need some more... lido... vu... te... rine," he said 
woefully as his teeth began to chatter.  

She was shocked, her eyes widening in response.  "Nick, you 
can't be serious..." she exclaimed, looking at withered form 
in alarm, but it appeared that he hadn't even heard what 
she'd said.  With her heart in her throat, she watched as he 
clutched his abdomen and cried out in pain.  He leaned 
forward slightly and she saw his torso spasm as if he were
about to vomit, but nothing came up.      

He gasped and ground his molars together.  "Stop... stop the 
pain..." he whispered as he looked forlornly in her 
direction, off into some void of space only he could see.  
She'd never seem him look so incredibly disoriented.  So 
defenseless...

"Can't stop my hands... from shaking..." he said again, as 
if he didn't realize he'd already said it.  Suddenly, he 
cocked his head to the side and stared at her with a strange 
look in his eye.  "Nat?  What're you doing here?" he asked 
with a sniff, his look of confusion turning into one of 
nausea. 

Good lord, he was really out of it...  Nat wanted to cry.  
She should've done more tests before giving that awful 
stuff to him...  And it was all her fault.  She'd done this 
to him...  

She enfolded him again in a tight embrace.  "Nick, I'm so 
sorry..." she said sincerely as he started to sob in her 
arms again, not caring about what his tears must be doing to 
her white silk blouse.  

**This is the end of part 2/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (3/21)

THE PRESENT

"Oh, Nick..." Nat sighed as she was brought back to the 
present.  Tears were streaming down her face at the horrible 
memory, falling softly onto the slide that had so recently 
been the bearer of good news.  It was all her fault that 
things had gotten so incredibly out of hand.  She 
should've...

"Natalie?  Why are you crying, sweetheart?" Grace 
Balthazar's soothing voice interrupted her thoughts, nearly 
startling Nat out of her skin.  When had she snuck in?  How 
much of that episode had she seen?      

Natalie quickly wiped away the tears and turned to face her 
worried friend.  "It's nothing, Grace.  I must've gotten 
something caught in my eye..." Natalie quickly rushed to 
make an excuse, and for emphasis she raised her left hand, 
rubbing her eye as if something were bothering it.  But 
judging from Grace's worried frown, her impromptu acting 
wasn't all that believable.  

"Nat, dear, you were crying your eyes out.  Don't even think 
about telling me that was just an eye bug..."  Grace said, 
crossing her arms in front of her chest in a classic 
'Superman' pose.  

"I... I was just remembering something from a long time ago.  
Nothing important..."  Natalie hedged, hoping her friend 
would leave it be, but from the look on Grace's face, she 
knew that she wouldn't.  Definitely not.   

"Nat, it wasn't unimportant if it's making you feel so sad.  
Come on, it'll make you feel better to talk about it..." 
Grace said quietly, guiding Natalie to the chair by her 
cluttered desk and sitting her down in it with a light 
shove.

Natalie looked down at the floor.  She was trapped.  There 
was no way that Grace was going to let her out of this one.  
She sighed.  "Grace..." she began, "Do you remember how Nick 
has a skin condition that makes it so that he can't go out 
in the sunlight?" she asked hesitantly.  Of _course_ Grace 
would remember...  She doubted anyone who knew Nick could 
ever forget that little detail, it was just a little too 
unusual to forget.  

Grace nodded.  "How could I not?  Why, is this about Nick?" 
she asked curiously.   

Nat sniffled a little bit and before she knew it a tissue 
had magically appeared in front of her eyes.  Graciously 
accepting the proffered item, she continued.  "Sort of.  
It's just that... I've been trying to find a cure for him 
for years, and now I think I may have found one..."  

Grace's face brightened up like a hundred watt light bulb.  
"Nat, honey, that's wonderful!  But then why..." her voice 
trailed off again as Natalie gave a little sob.  

"But see, Grace...  I just..." Nat sighed.  How to explain 
this without going into too many details?  Without revealing 
Nick's secret?  "Last time I thought I had found a cure it 
ended in a big disappointment, and Nick really got hurt..." 

Grace got a serious look on her face.  "How so?" she 
questioned.    

"The drug I tried had some unforeseen side effects.  Nick 
got incredibly paranoid, and pretty soon he was shooting 
the stuff up hourly.  He was addicted, Grace..." her voice 
involuntarily trailed off until she saw Grace's nod of 
encouragement that simply seemed to say, 'keep going, Nat, 
you need to talk about this'.  

Natalie continued.  "And when I discovered that the 
so-called cure I had found was just masking the symptoms 
of his disease instead of actually curing him, he went off 
the deep end...  I...  I don't know if I could put him 
through that again..."  Nat couldn't take it any more.  She 
started to sob, not caring that Grace was here to see her 
in probably one of her weakest moments.  

"Oh, honey!" Grace exclaimed softly.  "Shhh, don't cry.  
Maybe I can help you work through this..."  

Nat's tears briefly subsided and she nodded.  Any help 
would be great.  Anything at all.  She didn't really have 
anyone to talk to about Nick, except Schanke.  And well, it 
just wasn't the same as having a girlfriend to discuss 
things with.  This was as close as she'd ever get to having 
a really open conversation.  

"Does Nick know you've started working on a cure again?"  
Grace asked.  

Nat shook her head.  "We've sort of talked about trying to 
cure him again.  He's been trying all our old plans like 
dietary supplements and vitamin pills...  But...  I haven't 
told him I've been researching more drugs for him to try."  

"And you're not sure you want to tell him about this one, 
even if it may work, because you don't want another 
failure?" Grace summarized, making sure that she knew all 
the details.

Nat nodded mutely, almost ashamed that she was getting so 
worked up over a seemingly easy to solve problem.  

"Oh, Natalie..." Grace exclaimed, compassion filling her 
voice.    "Don't you think that's his decision to make 
though?  He can always say no, but if you don't give him 
that choice, you'll spend your life wondering 'What if that 
_had_ worked?'" 

"Yeah, Grace...  I suppose your right.  But...  It's 
just... so..." she paused while searching for the right 
word, "complicated."  Complicated was probably 
oversimplifying matters a bit, but it served as an adequate 
generalization.    

"Nat, with guys like Nick, it always is," Grace said with a 
teasing smile and Nat couldn't help but smile back.  Nick 
was an enigma, even to her sometimes.  And with the 
exception of herself, and possibly Schanke, she doubted 
anyone would ever truly understand him.  Not in a million 
years.  

Nat smiled again, surprised at how much better she felt, 
simply from relating her problem to someone else.  "Thanks, 
Grace.  Thanks for making me talk.  I think I'll discuss 
this with him tonight after work," she commented softly.  

"Anytime, Nat.  Free of charge!" Grace said with a wink as 
she gestured with a quick flit of her hand and sauntered out 
of the office.  

Nat grinned at her friend's joking manner, but as Grace 
quietly shut the door behind her, her grin fell into a tiny 
frown as she thought about her decision.  After work.  After 
work, she would drop the bombshell.        

*****

**This is the end of part 3/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (4/21)

//His power and glory ever more proclaim.

Clapping flooded through the precinct as the last strains of 
O Holy Night died into the background.  "Bravo!" Schanke 
screamed, and then he started clapping furiously as other 
fellow officers stood up to join him.  The Christmas carols 
had been a welcome relief by practically everyone in the 
precinct, those who celebrated Christmas and those who 
didn't.  The cheer they provided transcended specific 
religious sects.         

Nick gave a reluctant, wry smile as Schanke stood and gave 
his daughter's choir group a standing ovation.  Cohen had 
reluctantly allowed them to sing two songs for the precinct, 
knowing that it would brighten up the very gloomy in-the-
proximity-of-a-holiday night shift.  Jenny, standing in the 
front row in her heavy red parka and woolen mittens, blushed 
enough to match her coat.  Schanke wisely sat down and 
turned his eyes towards a suddenly very interesting paper on 
his desk.  

Nick placed his head in his hands and sighed.  Christmas.  
This time of year had always been so...  painful.  It had 
always reminded him that he was alone.  But now, things 
were different.  He had Natalie.  And he wanted it to be 
special this year.  But how? 

"So, Nick," Schanke began, apparently finally noticing that 
his partner didn't look as happy as everyone else did.  
"What's wrong?  The carols...  They didn't..."  Schanke 
glanced left and right as if he were checking to make sure 
no one was watching, "hurt you, did they?" he asked 
seriously.

"Huh?" Nick asked before he finally realized what on Earth 
Schanke was talking about.  "No!  Nononono, only crosses, 
Schank.  And blessed objects.  Churches, holy water...  But 
the day a Christmas carol kills me will be the day I drink 
one of Nat's protein shakes and like it," he assured his 
worried partner, chuckling in spite of himself.  

He had to admire Schanke.  He was really trying to get 
everything straight.  It had been two months since that 
awful mess with Infaustus, a little over three since he'd 
come back from his year with LaCroix, and ever since then, 
Schanke had been drilling him about every little aspect 
of his vampirism.  Schanke wanted to know everything, from 
how fast he could fly, to if he _really_ could turn into 
a bat.  _That_, had sent Nick into rolls of laughter, but it 
touched him that Schank had cared enough to ask.  

He knew there was a constant effort by Schanke to make him 
feel accepted, and he couldn't thank him more for it.  No 
one had ever made him feel so...  so...  normal.  

Nick was broken from his musings when Schanke finally 
responded.  "I don't see what's so funny about it...  Here 
you coulda been dying a slow death by Christmas carols, and 
you're sitting here laughing about it," Schanke said with 
a smile on his face.  Although he was joking Nick could 
detect a small hint of something more underneath...  Like 
maybe something like that could actually happen and Schanke 
was afraid...

"Schanke, will you relax?  I'm practically indestructible, 
you really don't need to worry..."  Nick assured him, 
leaning back into his chair with a complacent grin, but 
practically flying over backwards when the wheels of his 
chair slipped and sent his arms reeling to maintain his 
balance.  When he finally regained his equilibrium, Schanke 
was laughing heartily.  

"That wasn't funny, Schanke..." he said, feeling a strange 
heat on the skin of his cheeks.  If he was capable of 
blushing, which he really wasn't sure of one way or another, 
he was certain that this would be a good indicator.  

"Oh, Nick," Schanke stopped as he broke into more gales of 
laughter.  "The look on your face..." he managed to get out 
between wheezes.  "I'm pretty indestructible," Schanke said 
and thumped his chest, mimicking Nick in his best 'I'm Mr. 
Nick Knight.  Supercop extraordinaire' impression.  

Nick felt a growl forming in his throat, but he was stopped 
as Jenny came bounding up to them, like her feet were made 
of pogo-sticks and tensely coiled springs.  "Daddy!!!" she 
cried gleefully, skidding to a stop just in front of her 
chortling father.   

Schanke sat up, finally stopping his monstrous laughter.  
"Hi, pumpkin.  Wonderful job, Jenny," he said 
enthusiastically as he gave his daughter a hearty hug.  "The 
precinct loved you!"   

Jenny's eyes got wide at her dad's sincere compliments.  
"Really?"  

Nick took that moment to break in to the conversation.  He 
reached over and patted Jenny on the shoulder 
affectionately.    "Absolutely!  I haven't heard a better 
rendition of O Holy Night since 1872!"  

Jenny playfully batted him on the arm.  "Awwww, Nick, you 
are _so_ lying!  You weren't alive then..." she said with a 
very serious, matter-of-fact tone.  It was as if she felt 
herself a teacher on the subject.   

"Shoot, you got me..." Nick conceded defeat, even though 
he'd actually been serious.  He hadn't thought she'd really 
pay attention to that.  "Well at least not since I was a 
kid.  And that was in...  uh...  um...  the 1960s.  I 
think..."  Nick said, scratching his head.  When was his 
birthday in this life supposed to be again?  So much 
switching around got him pretty mixed up when he tried to 
remember fake dates.  He had enough trouble with the real 
ones.

Jenny gave him a big grin and kissed him on the cheek.  
"Well, thanks for the compliment anyway," she said as she 
glanced passed them towards where the others were all 
standing, bundled in their heavy winter coats.  "Oops, I've 
gotta go," she said.  "Bye, Nick.  Bye, Dad!" she cried, 
and then she bounded off towards her friends in what seemed 
like hyperspeed.  

Nick all at once felt incredibly old.  Had he been that 
hyper when he was a child?  He hoped not.  It was a wonder 
his mother hadn't killed him if it were so.  

He glanced up at Schanke, who was staring at him with a 
smirk.  "What?" he asked innocently, but he already had a 
pretty good idea where this was going...  

"Oh, come on, Nick!  1872?" Schanke asked sarcastically, 
rolling his eyes.  

"Yeah, it was in France..."  Nick said, his voice 
subconsciously reverting to his native accent, sighing as he 
began to remember...

"WOAH!  Nick!  Back the flashback trolley up there.  I don't 
need the gory details," Schanke commented as he thwapped 
Nick on the head with a hand roll of papers.  He had learned 
that procedure as an almost fail-proof flashback 
annihilator.   

Nick shook himself slightly, briefly disoriented by the 
quickly changing centuries.  "Sorry," he mumbled 
apologetically.  He knew his little habit of flashing back 
to the past was more than just a little annoying.  Luckily 
most people just thought he was spacey, rather than 
suffering from perfect recall. 

"Seriously, Nick.  What was bothering you earlier?" his 
partner questioned him, this time more seriously.  

It took Nick a moment to get back to the original subject of 
their conversation.  "Oh, I don't know.  I was kinda trying 
to figure out how I'm going to make this Christmas special 
for me and Nat..." he glanced over at Schanke only to see 
his partner staring at him with a wicked gleam in his eye.  
"Schank...  That's not what I meant..." Nick hastily 
explained. 

"Sure, partner...  Sure..." Schanke assured him, albeit with 
the most scheming tone Nick had ever heard.  "Seriously 
though?  You've got two weeks.  Fourteen whole days, and at 
least you don't have a nine-year-old to shop for.  I'm sure 
you'll think of something."  

"Yeah, well, I'm sure coming up blank right now..."  Nick 
sighed wistfully as he wracked his brain for ideas.  
Anything would suffice at this point.   

"I'd suggest that you volunteer to do the laundry and the 
dishes for a week.  Women always like that," Captain Cohen 
said seriously as she walked up, only her slight smile 
betraying the fact that she was amused by her star 
detectives' discussion.  

Nick and Schanke sat up straight and at attention the moment 
their superior officer interrupted the conversation.  
"Sorry, Captain.  We really were working on paperwork..." 
Schanke began an actually reasonable sounding excuse, wildly 
searching his desk for _any_ partially filled out form that 
would back him up, but Cohen raised her hand to shut him up.  

"Boys, relax.  I just came to let you know that you'll be 
getting an associate to work with for the next few days.  
She just arrived and is sitting in my office as we speak," 
Cohen told them, waiting for the explosion.  This had the 
potential to not go over well.   

"Associate?" Nick questioned somewhat suspiciously at the 
same time that Schanke squeaked, "She?!"  

"She's here from higher up.  Consider it an evaluation of 
our police department.  I decided to stick her with my best 
pair of detectives," Cohen tried to assure them, hoping 
that this wasn't a mistake.   They already looked plenty 
apprehensive.  

"Yes, consider me that, if you will..."  

Nick and Schanke both turned at the interruption, and upon 
a quick glance, Nick couldn't help but wonder if Schanke's 
mouth could drop any farther.  It already looked like he'd 
disconnected his jaw from his skull.  "Schanke, close your 
mouth," he whispered out of the side of his mouth, trying 
not to make it appear obvious that he'd said anything.  

**This is the end of part 4/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (5/21)

"Gentlemen, meet Alihra Dale," the Captain gestured to the 
stunning woman who had just appeared before them.  Stunning.  
That was an understatement.  

She was about 5'9", clothed in a rather striking black 
business suit.  Her waist-length, jet-black hair was pulled 
back into a smooth black ponytail, pulled so tightly that it 
looked like a skull-cap.  She was thin, but not too thin 
like the sickly looking models that frequented the fashion 
runways.  This was a healthy-looking thin.  And her skin, it 
was the color of smooth, milk-chocolate.  Very tan, almost 
Indian looking.  But not quite.  

Nick couldn't help but stare.  Her eyes, though, they were 
the most striking he'd ever seen.  The irises were a deep 
emerald green, with streaks of gold clawing outward from 
the pupils, all of which were framed by the fullest looking 
set of eyelashes he'd ever seen.  They looked... almost 
feline.  Animal...  

He looked in those eyes...  and he was lost.  Lost in the 
depths.  He swallowed hard as he felt himself drowning in 
those endless pools of green.  Thump-thump.  Thump-thump.  
The sound of her deliciously mortal heart was drumming in 
his ears like a raging thunder, and all he could think 
about was her warm blood running down his throat.  
Delicious...  He licked his lips in anticipation.  

And suddenly, he was back in the precinct.  He shook his 
head, disoriented.  What on Earth had happened?  That had 
been downright strange...  He looked at Alihra after 
regaining some equilibrium.  Something...  There was 
something... wrong... about her...  He squinted his eyes 
lightly as he tried to analyze her on sight alone.

"Alihra, this is Detective Nick Knight, and this is 
Detective Don Schanke.  You'll be working with them for the 
next few weeks," Cohen said, gesturing in turn to each Nick 
and Schanke with her thin, crisply tanned hand.  "I just got 
a call, we've got a bad one.  Here are the specifics," Cohen 
said as she handed them a thick manila folder.  "Now," she 
added, "I'll just leave you three to get acquainted, and 
then you can all head down to the crime scene.  Forensics is 
already there."  

With that, Cohen walked off, and Nick almost regretted that 
she had to go.  For some reason, he felt like he didn't want 
to be left alone with this mysterious woman...  He shook his 
head.  He was probably just imagining things.  Yes, 
imagining things.  That was it.  

Alihra gave a wide smile as Cohen departed, showing her 
gorgeous pearly white teeth with no shame.  "Uh-LEAR-uh..."  
Schanke tested out her name carefully, shaking her hand as 
she proffered it.  

"Yes, Detective, that is correct..." she confirmed with a 
slight accent.  Although for the life of him, Nick couldn't 
quite place its origin.  Definitely middle-eastern, or 
thereabouts.

Schanke swallowed heard.  "Don...  You can call me Don," he 
squeaked, sounding as if someone was forcing all the air 
out his lungs like an accordion, nearly dropping the manila 
folder that he had been so desperately clinging to since 
Cohen had given it to him.  

Alihra smiled again.  "All right then," she paused and then 
spit his name out as if it was a difficult thing to say, 
"Don."  She then turned to him, and he could feel his throat 
constricting wildly.  "And should I call you, Nick?" she 
asked, turning her glance towards Nick.  

Nick felt a lump forming steadily in his throat.  "Uh, yes, 
that'll be fine," he managed to utter before his voice 
abandoned him.  The woman's presence was overwhelming, even 
though it looked like she didn't even notice the effect she 
was having on both him and Schanke.

"So, uh, Alihra, can we call you Ali?" Schanke questioned 
jokingly, trying to lighten the tense mood.  Two males on 
testosterone overdrive and one gorgeous woman did not make 
for good conversation.

Her smile faded and her somewhat friendly glance turned to 
a cold stare, her deliciously green eyes on fire.  "No, you 
may call me Alihra."  And with that, she turned and headed 
towards the door of the precinct, her heels clicking loudly 
on the floor. 

Schanke stared at Nick.  Nick stared at Schanke.  Woah...  
"I didn't think that was such a controversial question, did 
you?" Schanke asked, completely confused.  Nick just 
shrugged.  That had been the most bizarre encounter he'd 
ever had...      

Shaking their heads slightly, they both quickly grabbed 
their coats and raced out the door after Ms. Dale, hoping to 
catch her before she actually left without them.  This was 
going to be an interesting night.  An interesting one 
indeed.  

*****

The Caddie was deafeningly quiet as the three drove to the 
crime scene.  Oozing trails of pale vapor trailed out of 
Nick's mouth as he sighed, and hearing Schanke's subtly 
chattering teeth behind him, he cursed himself for not 
remembering to fix the stupid heater.  Schanke had been 
complaining about it nonstop since he'd come back, and he 
was sure to hear more of it as soon as Alihra was gone if he
didn't get it repaired.  

Alihra...  Nick glanced out of the corner of his eye to 
Alihra, who was sitting in Schanke's usual spot, seemingly 
unaffected by the bitter chill.  Despite the nervousness 
instilled in him by the situation, he smiled.  She'd usurped 
Schanke's supreme reign of 'shotgun' and Schanke hadn't had 
the guts to tell her that she should sit in the back.

"So why exactly _are_ you here?"  Schanke asked innocently 
from the backseat, apparently trying to get a conversation 
started.  Nick chose to remain silent and not join in.  He 
didn't want to talk with this woman if he could help it.  
There was something that just didn't rub right about her.  
Not at all.  And it bothered him immensely.  

"I believe Captain Cohen said I was here to observe..."  
Alihra said absently, never tearing her catlike eyes from 
the road passing by beneath them.  It was as if she felt 
above them in some way, like they had no business 
questioning her motives.

"Uhhh, can you be a tad more specific?" Schanke prodded, 
gesturing with his thumb and index finger to indicate a 
small amount, but to no avail.  

"No," she said tersely, smiling arrogantly when she looked 
in the rearview mirror to see Schanke's stunned expression.  
Nick felt himself growing angry at her rudeness, and his lip 
began to quiver slightly from the effort it took  to 
suppress a growl.  Even if she was their superior, she had 
no right to treat them the way she was.  No right!  

He found himself taking several deep breaths just to control 
himself.  His fingers clenched the steering wheel 
desperately, his knuckles turning white from the intense 
pressure.  With great effort, he loosened his hold so as to 
save his precious steering wheel.  And despite the rage 
gnawing at his mind, he wisely remained silent.   

"Well...  So where are you from?  You have a most unusual 
accent..."  Nick raised an eyebrow, surprised that Schanke 
had even noticed that, it was very subtle.  

Alihra ignored his question and turned to Nick with a face 
of stone.  No emotion.  It was if she wasn't human.  "Tell 
me, Nick," she paused at his name, saying it 
condescendingly with a slight curl of her lip, "How do you 
feel right now?"  Her voice was sickly sweet, like an 
overripe nectarine, and it almost made him nauseous. 

"Pardon?" Nick asked, unsure as to what on Earth this 
mysterious woman was getting at.  This was disconcerting, 
not being in control of the conversation for once.  With 
mortals, he'd always felt safe from their prying, and yet, 
with this woman, he not only felt compelled to answer, he 
found himself actually getting fearful.  

Alihra attempted to clarify, sighing slightly before she 
began again, "How do you feel, knowing that you are about 
to start a murder case?"

That was an odd question...  "Sad, I guess...  That people 
are terrible enough sometimes that they wind up killing 
each other..." he answered, somewhat truthfully.  He could 
see Schanke nodding minutely in agreement through the 
rearview mirror, but the look on Alihra's face was not one 
of agreement at all.      

"Do you not feel exhilarated, knowing that a hunt is about 
to begin?" she asked seriously, his previous answer not 
satisfying her for some reason.  

At the undercurrent of passion in her voice, Nick felt his 
heart freeze in his chest.  God, yes.  That's how he always 
felt, not that he ever told anyone about it.  And here, this 
exotic woman who had walked into his life not an hour before 
had hit him right on the mark.  It was as if this woman knew 
him from the inside out, more so than he knew himself, and 
his mind began clawing wildly for answers.  Who was she?  "I 
don't..." he struggled to speak, "I don't see what you're 
driving at..." he lied weakly.    

And she knew.  She knew he was lying.  The look on her face 
confirmed it.  He swallowed hard, trying to shrink back into 
the seat and out of her wicked gaze.  "Yes, you do," Alihra 
whispered, her voice deep and rich.  Threatening.  "That is 
why you do this job.  You like the power you feel when you 
catch your offender.  It gives you a rush...  A thrill..."  
Her voice grew a strained edge to it, and it sounded almost 
like she was commanding him to feel that way, not that he 
needed her prodding. 

Oh, yes...  The rush...  The adrenaline...  The power...  
That was what it was about.  That was always what it was 
about.  If he could atone at the same time as feeding his 
desires, all the better, but they were always there, under 
the surface, no matter how he tried to equate it with making 
up for his past sins.  

Nick clenched his teeth as he felt himself start to pant, 
not able to stop himself from licking his lips.  He thought 
in detail about what was to come, the chase, the tracking, 
like a game of hide-and-seek with deliciously exhilarating 
consequences.  The vampire screamed inside him for release.  
Let the hunt begin NOW!  Closing his eyes briefly, although 
not long enough to jeopardize his passengers, he inhaled as 
fully as he could.  "No..." he denied her words hoarsely, 
suddenly becoming very hungry.

She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, but thankfully, 
they had arrived at their destination before she could 
respond to his blatant lie.  "Oh, look... We're here," he 
sighed, his voice dripping with relief.  God, anything to 
get away from this woman.  This woman who had basically 
sifted through his entire soul in mere minutes.  

All three got out of the car and into the bitter cold 
simultaneously, resounding thuds following in quick 
succession as three car doors harshly slammed shut.  Schanke 
was looking at the two of them strangely, but Nick chose to 
ignore it in favor of beginning the investigation as quickly 
as possible.  The faster it began, the faster it would be 
over, and the faster Alihra would be gone.

The alley was teaming with forensics crews.  Nick walked 
deliberately through the crowd, not caring that he'd left 
his partner adrift behind with _her_.  Finally free of her 
strange arrogance and eerie gaze, he looked around and took 
in his surroundings.

The alley was small, probably only about six feet wide, 
maybe seven.  Red brick walls rose above the white concrete, 
making it cave-like and claustrophobic.  No streetlights 
graced the walkway at all, the only illumination being 
provided by the forensics crews so that the alley could be 
thoroughly searched and whatnot.  Luckily, even though the 
alley was still dim by mortal standards, he was quite at 
home and able to see from the alley's mouth all the way to 
where it ended about fifteen yards down in a heaping pile of 
trash. 

He searched the crowd, sweeping his eyes over the dozen or 
so people milling about.  Smiling when he caught sight of 
her, he strode towards his favorite coroner with a sudden 
purpose.  "Natalie!" he called, not caring that people saw 
him acting so informal with her.  He wasn't hiding anymore.  
Everyone from here to Timbuktu knew about their 
relationship, and he wasn't going to do anything to hide it.  
He was through hiding, at least with this...   

She turned slightly upon hearing her name called, but the 
look on her face was filled with a quiet tension, not the 
pleasure he would've expected.  Worry lines creased her 
delicate forehead as she tried to bury herself further in 
the warmth of he brown, ankle length coat and he immediately 
rushed over.  "Nat, what is it?" he questioned her, his 
tone betraying his sudden worry.  

"Nick, you'd better take a look at this," she gestured 
towards the body, her voice tired, wavering slightly as she 
pointed downwards.  No hi, no hello, just a gesture towards 
the cold, very dead man on the ground.  

"Nat?" he questioned as he snapped on some rubber gloves 
automatically and looked down.  And then he froze.  The 
body was splayed on the ground like a rag doll, the head 
turned towards the pavement and the right shoulder pointing 
skyward, in a perfect angle for him to view the pale neck 
of the victim.

**This is the end of part 5/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (6/21)

There were two neat little puncture marks right on top of 
the jugular where the base of the neck met the shoulder.  
He gasped.  "And I can't tell when it happened either.  
It's too damn cold out, and it's screwing with my 
calculations.  Nick, what should I do?  I haven't seen one 
of these since... well since before you left!" she sighed, 
obviously frustrated.  

"Just say it was a wild animal, Nat.  I'll find the one who 
did this, just leave that to me..." he started to say, his 
mind filling with rage all over again.  Stupid fledglings.  
That's who left bodies out carelessly like this.  It 
sickened him.  He was almost into a tirade when he noticed 
that Nat was not really saying anything.  

"Nat?"  He hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead, 
ignoring the smiles from several nearby peoples who were 
_obviously_ not watching them...  "Nat, what's the matter?  
Don't worry, I _will_ take care of this..." he assured her, 
confused as to what had upset her so.

"I need to talk with you, Nick.  After work, come back to 
the loft right away, ok?"  He felt himself practically melt 
as he saw Nat's large blue eyes searching his own hopefully.  

"Sure, Nat," he said, slightly confused.  What could 
possibly be so important?  He was about to ask her why when 
Schanke and Alihra walked up.  

"Jeez, Nick.  You could've waited for us, you know!"  
Schanke said with a murderous glare.  He'd apparently felt 
the same way about Alihra that Nick did.  "Anyway, I checked 
around while you were courting our dear coroner.  Harry 
McKenzie.  32.  Single.  No witnesses to the actual murder, 
but we know that he left to go on a smoking break at around 
two A.M.  He left quite alive.  And now, he's very dead..."  
Schanke trailed off under Nick's glare of death.  "What?" 
he asked, slightly miffed. 

Nick just pointed to the neck of the victim.  Luckily, 
Schanke got it immediately and no clarifying was necessary, 
not that he could've said anything with Alihra standing 
right there.  "Oh," Schanke said quietly, looking slightly 
worried at the direction this case was taking.  This was 
the first vampire kill he'd ever seen with the prior 
knowledge that vampires existed.  

Alihra looked down at the victim as well.  "What, I don't 
see anything..." she commented while she stared at the body 
curiously, her voice losing all previous hint of arrogance 
and being replaced by utter inquisitiveness...  "What's 
that, did a dog bite the guy or something?" she asked, with 
all the innocence of a two year old.

Natalie took this moment to step in, clearing her throat.  
"Animal attack.  Probably a rabid dog, we should notify 
animal control...  But I can't guarantee anything until I've 
done the autopsy.  Which won't be until...  tomorrow, since 
the shift is almost over..." she said absently, glancing 
down at her watch.  

Nick was stunned.  She wasn't going to stay overtime to do 
the autopsy?  Not that she really needed to do one, the 
cause of death was obvious, at least to three out of four 
members of the party.  Whatever she had to talk about back 
at the loft must be pretty damned important...  Oh God, what 
if she was ill?  Dying?  What if she was going to break up 
with him...  His mind started playing through all sorts of 
terrible news when Nat's voice brought him back to the 
present. 

"Nick, hellooooo?"  Her hand was waving in front of his 
face.  She hadn't the heart to thwap him with stuff like 
Schanke did...  He blinked as she continued.  "Are you going 
to introduce me to your new friend?" Nat said, looking at 
Alihra with a slight look of...  What, was it curiosity?  

Friend!?  That was a laugh...  He recovered himself from his 
musings to issue a rather reluctant introduction.  "Uh, 
Natalie, meet Alihra Dale.  She's observing us.  Alihra, 
meet Dr. Natalie Lambert," Nick said, sweeping his hands 
between the two. 

"Hello, Dr. Lambert," Alihra said sweetly as she took her 
hand into a firm grasp.  "It's good to meet Nick's 
significant other."

Nick nearly choked.  Significant other?  It was true... but 
he hadn't told her.  He looked at Schanke, who just 
shrugged.  He was as in the dark as Nick was.  

Natalie's eyes darted back and forth between Alihra and 
Nick suspiciously, and then to Schanke.  "Hi..." she said 
warily, but her voice trailed off as she stared into 
Alihra's eyes.  It was like she was being hypnotized, and 
Nick watched in astonishment as she just kind of froze there 
for a second before quickly withdrawing her hand.  "Well, 
uh, Alihra.  Nice to meet you...  Nick, it's almost sunrise.  
You should get going..." she said distractedly, prodding him 
slightly with her hands, but more with the worried look in 
her eyes.  
   
"Yes.  Yes I should..." he confirmed.  Now that he was 
paying attention to it, Nick could feel the tingling 
sensation in his head that meant the sun was sure to rise 
shortly.  He looked at Nat.  "You'll catch up to me?" he 
asked quietly.  Upon receiving her nod, he looked to 
Schanke.  "C'mon Schanke, Alihra.  Unless you have something 
else that you need to do here, I'll drive you back to the 
precinct."  

Schanke nodded.  "Sure, Nick.  That won't be cutting it too 
close will it?"  

Alihra looked at him quizzically and started before Nick 
could answer, "It's still an hour until sunrise.  Unless his 
allergy kicks in in indirect light, it shouldn't be a 
problem," she stated matter-of-factly, looking over to him 
with a gaze that simply screamed, 'just try and prove me 
wrong!'  

Nick was dumbfounded.  He'd never told her about his 
'allergy'.  Again he looked to Schanke and again he received 
a shrug.  This woman...  She knew things that she wasn't 
supposed to know...  He looked at her strangely, but was 
nearly knocked flat when she returned his gaze dead on with 
a smile.  

His blood went cold.  She knew.  Somehow, she knew about 
him.  No, her reaction to the body that'd been found was too 
naive.  She couldn't know.  Could she?  

He would have to look into this.  But now was not the time.

*****

Natalie tapped her foot anxiously as the lift engaged and 
began its slow trek up to the second floor of Nick's 
building.  Why did this thing have to be so slow?  She was 
practically ready to jump out of her skin by the time the 
thing finally lumbered into place.

With a mighty heave, she slid the lift door aside only to 
be greeted by the sight of Nick, pacing restlessly by the 
stairs like a impatient lion.  "Nat!" he cried as she came 
into the bleak expanse of the loft.  "I've been waiting 
since the sun came up, what took you so long?" he asked 
rather harshly, looking irritated that she'd not arrived 
as promptly as he obviously had.  

Nat, surprised, glanced at her watch.  "Nick, it's only 
fifteen minutes after sunrise...  I had some quick 
paperwork to fill out on the body.  You know standard 
procedure," she answered defensively.  She'd come home as 
quickly as she could, and that would have to be good enough 
for him.  

Nick sighed, and she saw his tense shoulders give way into 
a slump as he brought his pained eyes to look into hers.  "I 
know, I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, but the strain in 
his voice was still very evident.  "I just got worried when 
you told me that you really needed to talk.  Please, what is 
it?" he pleaded, walking up to her and giving her a quick 
hug and a kiss.  

She chuckled.  "Nick, I'm sorry, it's not anything bad.  At 
least, I didn't think it would be," she commented softly, 
returning his hug and guiding him towards his big, black 
leather couch.  They needed to sit for this talk.  She 
lightly shoved him down onto the sofa and then sat herself 
down next to him.  

Taking a deep breath, she looked at him only to find him 
watching her expectantly.  "Nick, I think I may have found 
a possible cure," she stated bluntly, knowing that it would 
be no use to slowly build up to the news.  

His jaw dropped open.  "Nat, I didn't know you were working 
on a cure, aside from the protein shakes I mean..." he 
exclaimed, slightly suspicious. 

She stopped him and attempted to explain before he thought 
too much about her secrecy and got angry at it.  They had a 
very open relationship, and she knew it would bug him 
immensely that she'd kept this from him, especially since it 
wasn't just a little tiny secret.  "I didn't want to get 
your hopes up," she admitted softly.  "I _still_ don't, but 
the only way I can go any further with this is to try it out 
on you."  

"But...  I'm not sure if I'm really up to being guinea pig 
again..." he said cautiously.  Normally he would've jumped 
at the chance, but lately, Nat had found that he was getting 
more and more wary as each cure was tried and failed.  He'd 
tried drugs like Lidovuterine and ended with disastrous 
results, he'd tried supernatural cures and ended with the 
same.  The more he tried, the more he doubted.  And the more 
he doubted, the less he was willing to try.  It was as if 
his hope was slowly being crushed.  

"Nick, this is a lot like the Lidovuterine," she paused when 
she saw his wince.  That was still a sore spot with him.  
For months after taking the Lidovuterine, he still had 
little withdrawal attacks.  Cold sweats, stomach pain, the 
works.  Like an ex-smoker who had to deal with the 
occasional urge to light up and take a drag, except to the 
point that it made him occasionally ill.  And although she 
hadn't seen anything like it since he'd come back from 
LaCroix, she suspected the addiction was still there, lying 
under the surface, waiting for the right moment to pop up.     
    
"It's different though.  The Lidovuterine wasn't nearly as 
effective on your blood samples as this stuff, and it's 
lacking in the psychotropic chemicals that the Lidovuterine 
had.  I don't think it'll have the same effect mentally, but 
physically it looks like it'll pack much more of a bang."  

"More bang?" Nick questioned cautiously.  He was obviously 
getting more interested in this as time went on, but he was 
still in no way ready to commit.  

"Well, when I added the Lidovuterine to your blood samples, 
the vampire element was kind of...  well it just 
disappeared.  It was dormant.  Hidden.  The Lyzatrex, that's 
the drug I've found, seems to actually attack your extra 
nucleotides and it destroys them.  That way, you won't have 
to worry about dormant nucleotides becoming active again," 
she explained, trying desperately not to lapse into her 
erudite 'medical-speak' that always left him clueless and 
completely confused.

"Attacks them?  That sounds like it would hurt..." he 
whispered with a slightly fearful edge.  Nat could tell that 
he still remembered painful application of the Lidovuterine 
all too well.   

"I can't say that it won't hurt, but we can try it in small 
doses at first until we're sure of how much you can safely 
tolerate.  I would suggest using it in conjunction with 
curare, but if we kill the vampire element in your blood, 
the curare would kill you the second you became mortal," she 
said bluntly, only realizing how blunt when she saw him 
cringe.  

She rushed to continue.  "But Nick, I won't make the same 
mistakes I did last time.  I'll monitor you much more 
closely, and I certainly won't let you take the Lyzatrex 
with you this time...  I really think this might work if we 
give it a try and we're careful about it.  Lord knows I 
don't want a repeat of the last time any more than you 
do..."  

"Ok." 

"And now that Schanke's in on your secret, we can have him 
help.  At the first sign of any trouble we can..." she found 
her voice trailing off as she processed what he had just 
said.  "Wait.  Did you just say ok?" she asked, completely 
surprised by his sudden acquiescence.  

Nick smiled, giving her a goofy, lopsided grin.  "Nat, I 
trust you.  If you think it's worth a try, then I'll do it," 
he said seriously and then he added, "I don't blame you for 
the Lidovuterine, and despite the disastrous results, that 
was as close as I've ever gotten to being mortal.  Doesn't 
that saying go something like, 'try, try again?'" he asked 
her playfully. 

"But..." she felt herself starting to protest. 

"Or was that, 'no pain, no gain...'" he said, looking up as 
though he were deep in thought, grasping for more cliched 
quotes.

"But..." she said like a broken record.

"Nat, I said yes.  That's what you wanted, right?"  She 
nodded slowly in response.  "Well then quite arguing with 
me!" he stated, giving her a playful punch in the arm.  

"Ok," Nat said dreamily.  He'd actually said yes.  This had 
been easier than she had first thought.  "If we leave early 
for work tomorrow, I can administer the first dose 
tomorrow..." her voice trailed off as Nick took her into an 
abrupt, yet very passionate kiss.

"Nat..." he mumbled between kisses as he pulled away from 
her lips and started trailing his lips down her pale neck, 
"Why don't you explain the details later.  I can think of 
much better ways to spend the morning..."

She moaned softly as he caressed her, and her skin felt like 
it was on fire.  "Hmmm-mmm," she agreed quietly as he began 
to remove her shirt gently.  There was a very light thud as 
her garment leapt from his fingers and onto the floor, but 
she didn't really notice.  She was too enraptured to care.

*****        

**This is the end of part 6/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (7/21)

Nick sat down heavily into Nat's chair, wrinkling his nose 
as the smell of formaldehyde wafted through his sensitive
nostrils.  He sighed, trying to ignore his growing sense of 
unease.  Nat was tapping a syringe lightly with her index 
finger to get the air bubbles out, and he watched with a 
leery gaze as the dim fluorescent lighting transformed Nat's 
office into something out of a mad scientist's laboratory.  

"Are you sure you want to do this, Nick?"  Nat asked 
doubtfully, her questioning eyes noticing that he'd begun to 
tremble a little bit.  

He nodded mutely, but the sense of unease grew from a mere 
nagging sensation in the back of his mind, to a panic of 
sorts.  He felt an increasing sensation of being trapped, a 
cold feeling enveloping his heart like the walls were 
closing in around him and he had no way to escape.  True, 
he'd agreed quite readily last night, but now he wasn't so 
sure.  Not at all.  Was he really ready to try this again?  
Was he really ready for the pain?  The disappointment?  The 
failure?  

The last time hadn't worked, except to give him a bunch of 
unnecessary pain and heartache.  The last time...  His chest 
giving a mighty heave, he sighed restlessly as he began to 
remember...

FLASHBACK - TORONTO 1995

The pain was incredible.  Explosions of color flooded his 
vision like a flamboyant bouquet of fireworks, and all at 
once he was so hot he was freezing.  Sweat dripped down his 
brow as the agony raced through his tortured nerves and he 
began to shake spasmodically.  This was worse than any time 
before, and yet he wanted it more than anything.  He needed 
it to the point his very being was screaming for it.  For 
sanctuary from his explosive bloodlust.

More.  His lip twitched in readiness.  He needed more, the 
vampire was still alive within him, quivering in his chest 
as it protested weakly against the onslaught of the drug.  

With trembling hand and panting breath, he drew up another 
syringe from the vial of Lidovuterine and closed his eyes.  
Pain, sweet pain.  All over again he collapsed to the floor 
and screamed as the toxic serum saturated his system.  
Muscles tensing, nerves rapidly firing, he felt his stomach 
begin to object and flutter about crazily, but he was too 
wild with delirious agony to care.    

Peace.  Calm.  

He began to laugh as the euphoria swept over him and took 
him into its clutches, the pain washing away on a receding 
riptide.  He sighed as his body went limp and relaxed.  So 
completely spent, he couldn't even lift himself off his 
cold, wooden floor and into a suitable chair.  

"Nick!"  The roll of thunder peeled through his head, and 
it felt like his innards were being ripped to pieces. 

He rolled his head over towards the sound invading his 
private nirvana.  The room was so incredibly bright, like 
staring into an eclipse.  Squinting, he tried to identify 
the blurry form standing above him like a weeping angel.  
"Nat?" he mumbled as she placed a cold hand on his sweat-
slicked forehead.  

"Nick...  You've got a fever.  You took it again, didn't 
you..."  It was a statement more than a question.  One that 
carried great disappointment as well as guilt.  She blamed 
herself...

Laughing, he looked around at the kaleidoscope of colors.  
"I...  I guess I did..." he said, not quite sure if he had 
or not.  Although that would explain why he felt so relaxed 
and yet so deliciously awful at the same time.  "I needed 
it," he stated with a snide curl of his lip, a cruel inhuman 
tone in his voice.  And yet, at the same time, he knew that 
what he'd said wasn't true.  It was only causing him pain...  

"Nick!  This is a psychotropic drug!  You do _not_ need it!" 
she cried, the sound ringing through his ears along with the 
racing beat of his own laboring heart.  

He blinked.  And then the nausea raced up from behind and 
claimed him without any warning at all.  He rolled over 
slightly and vomited blood all over himself until he was 
trembling.  Until he had nothing left.  No strength, no 
dignity, nothing.  What had he become?  How had he 
allowed this to happen?  

He let out a sob as Nat began to cry.  But he was too weak 
to do much else.  

THE PRESENT

Nick shook himself from the awful memory, gasping at the 
horrid nightmare that had become his life.  God, he didn't 
want to be like that again.  He didn't.  Not in a million 
years.  

"Nick?  Are you ready?" Nat asked for his confirmation, the 
syringe ready for its intended use.  The silence broken, he 
looked down and noticed for the first time that she'd 
already tied off his arm with a piece of latex tubing.    

He stared at the needle, which was dripping slightly, and he 
couldn't help but swallow hard.  A small bead of bloodsweat 
trailed down the side of his forehead in a lazy, winding 
path, and Nat saw it almost instantly, hastily wiping it 
away with a latex gloved hand.  

"Nick, if you have any doubts, I don't want to do this," Nat 
stated, placing the dripping syringe on the desk beside him 
for emphasis.  He stared at the small needle sitting 
silently on the desk, briefly weighing his options.

"No, Nat.  I need to do this.  I need to.  If not for the 
cure, for my own peace of mind," he responded quietly, 
assuring her that she was doing the right thing.  What he 
said _was_ true.  This fear needed to be overcome if he and 
Nat were ever going to get anywhere on a cure.  It was 
obvious, however, that she was not entirely convinced. 

Nat picked up the syringe again, but still looked at him 
doubtfully.  "Really, Nat.  I'm sure.  Just do it," he 
commanded her and then he closed his eyes, not able to 
watch. 

He felt the prick of the needle, but everything else was 
a blur.  "Well?" Nat was saying anxiously, but he couldn't 
bring himself to respond.  There was already a dull ache 
in his veins and he felt it escalating with alarming 
swiftness.  An ache.  A twang.  A shooting pain.  And then 
it was unadulterated agony.  

Through the intensifying roar, he heard himself cry out, and 
he could feel Nat's arms enclose him in a safe cocoon, but 
the rest was waterfalls of sensation.  Skin crawling, rapid 
panting, sweating brow...  Trying to ride it out, he 
clenched his teeth and rested his head against Nat's 
supportive shoulder, her soothing hand running through his 
dampened hair, combing out his mussy blond mane as he 
writhed painfully in her grip.

Help... Help me!  He wanted to scream through the abyss and 
the chasms of blackness that bit at his consciousness.  Stop 
it!  And amazingly, it did.  Taking a deep breath as the 
pain went fleeting away as quickly as it had come, he 
realized he was quaking.  Only Nat's strong grasp had kept 
him upright.  "Nat?" he asked shakily, making sure that he 
wasn't just imagining things.  That she _was_ there.  

"Nick...  How do you feel?" she asked, her voice strained.  
As painful as that had been for him, he was certain it had 
been worse for her to watch, knowing that he was inflicting 
such pain upon himself at her suggestion.  

He lifted his head up and immediately regretted it, the 
dizziness completely disorienting him until he barely knew 
which way was up.  "I feel...  weird..." he said weakly, 
biting back a light wave of nausea.  He didn't really know 
how he felt, except that whatever it was, it most certainly 
wasn't right.

"Define weird..." she stated cautiously, her eyes narrowing 
slightly at his lacking description..  

How was he supposed to define weird?  That was a good 
question.  "I feel... not mortal.  But not vampire...  I...  
I don't know..." he struggled for the correct words to 
describe how he felt, still confused as to what was going 
on.  Trying to call up the vampire, he found that his fangs 
would not descend.  And yet... he could still feel the beast 
slumbering within him, a quiet raging monster just waiting 
to be released.  He was startled from his thoughts felt 
something cold sneaking between the buttons of his black 
silk shirt and onto his chest.  Looking down, he saw Nat 
gently placing a stethoscope on his left pectoral muscle.  

"Well, your heart is beating really slow, but much faster 
than it should be.  Take a deep breath and let it out 
slowly..." He complied, growing worried when she said 
nothing.  

"Again."  He did so and again was greeted with silence.  
Opening his mouth to ask what was up, he was quite startled 
when a thermometer was relentlessly shoved into his mouth 
and all that he managed to utter was a smothered "hmmpff!"  

He sighed frustratedly and repositioned it more carefully 
underneath his tongue.  After several moments, Nat pulled 
the confounded device out of his mouth and read the liquid 
crystal display with a look of such dire seriousness that he 
almost felt like laughing.  She was treating this like some 
monumental experiment that the fate of the entire world was 
riding upon.  "Your temperature is up quite a bit, still not 
human norm.  How do you feel now?" she asked, concerned at 
the readings she was getting.  

Nick stood up experimentally and tested his balance, 
relieved to find that the ground was still indeed the 
ground, and that he wasn't going to be joining it anytime 
soon due to a misplaced step.  "I feel fine, I think," he 
commented absently as he checked himself over.  

"You _think_?" Natalie questioned doubtfully.   

"Well, I don't feel sick or anything, and I'm definitely 
not as...  well...  high as I was with the Lidovuterine...  
But I'm not a good person to ask, seeing as how I haven't 
even caught a measly little cold in over seven hundred 
years..." he responded, slightly annoyed that she was 
grilling him like this, although he couldn't blame her.  
She was being careful to avoid a repeat of least time. 

"Look, Nat," he said, glancing at his watch, "It's getting 
late.  Why don't I go to work?  I'll have Schanke keep an 
eye on me if it'll make you feel better.  I need to follow 
up on this vampire kill before it gets out of hand."

Nat smiled wryly and reluctantly agreed .  "I guess you can, 
but you have to _promise_ me that you'll go home if you feel 
_anything_ wrong and call me _immediately_.  I do _not_ want 
a repeat of last time," she stated warily, tapping his lips 
with her index finger for emphasis.

"Neither do I, Nat."  He sighed, kissing her softly on the 
lips and then repeating, "Neither do I." 

Nat parted from his comforting embrace and gave him a wide 
grin.  "Well fine, but don't leave before I take a blood 
sample..."  She said, a wicked smile invading her face as 
her alter-ego evil Dr. Nat took over.

He grimaced and hastily backed away from her possessive 
gaze.  "Another needle?" he whined, knowing that he was 
sounding like a child, but not caring.  

"Absolutely.  How else are you going to earn the nickname 
Mr. Pincushion?" she asked, advancing upon him and virtually 
pinning him to the door of the nearby fridge. 

He laughed as Nat yanked on the lapels of his shirt and 
pulled him into a mind-blowing kiss, knowing that pincushion 
was soon to be an understatement.  

*****     

**This is the end of part 7/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (8/21)

Schanke stared at the desk twiddling his thumbs impatiently, 
tapping his pencil furiously, shuffling back and forth 
between incomplete reports, doing whatever he could think of 
to pass the time.  For once, it was Nick, and not him who 
was late.  He looked across the room to see Cohen glaring at 
him, but all he could do was shrug helplessly and smile.  
Nick hadn't told him anything was up, so for all intents and 
purposes, he _should_ be there.  Nick just didn't keep 
secrets about his whereabouts anymore, it was much easier 
for Nick to just let him know where he was going, rather 
than get all mysterious-like.  

He impatiently glanced once again at his watch.  
Thirty minutes late now.  Glancing at his Captain standing 
in silent vigil across the bullpen, he grimaced.  Cohen 
would be on the warpath soon.  And he just knew that he 
would be caught in the middle of the battle zone, drowning 
in the blood-soaked trenches right along with Nick.

Well, at least Alihra wasn't due in for another half-hour.  
Damn, but that woman was creepy.  Like Nick in the sense 
that she had a certain air of power about her.  Alihra was 
definitely not a woman he would ever want to cross.  She 
took things very seriously, and her sense of humor was 
nonexistent at best, almost like pre-disappearance Nick, 
who had at least loosened up once he no longer had a secret 
to hide.  But where she lacked in endearing personality, she 
was quite well endowed in looks.

She was probably the finest specimen of woman that he'd 
seen in a long, long time.  A _long_ time.  When he had 
first looked into her beautiful face, he'd thought he was 
looking into the eyes of an angel.  The deep, crystal pools 
of jade were endless.  And the oddest thing that he'd 
noticed was that they didn't seem to reflect anything, even 
when he'd gone up to shake her hand he'd thought there was 
something missing, only later realizing that he hadn't been 
able to see himself reflected in them.  They were just an 
infinite sea of emerald.  And her blond hair... so golden it 
looked like it had been kissed by the sun.  

Stop it!  Myra will kill you!  Schanke sighed, trying to rip 
his mind away from the memory of Alihra's supermodel figure 
and gorgeous looks.  Thankfully, Nick chose that moment to 
arrive.  His partner came in through the main doors, 
mumbling a quick apology to Cohen as he passed, and then 
head straight for his desk.

He looked at his approaching partner somewhat suspiciously.  
His partner looked...  flushed?  Definitely not wonderfully 
so, but a lot more alive than he usually looked.  "Nick?" he 
called, his eyes following Nick as he snuck through a crowd 
of officers standing in the aisle.

Nick sat down with a slight grimace, wrapping his coat 
around his chair and placing his keys in his desk drawer.  
"Hi, Schanke.  Is _she_ here?"  

Nick didn't mention Alihra by name, but Schanke knew exactly 
who he was talking about.  "No, Alihra's not going to get 
here for another twenty minutes or so," he assured his 
worried partner.  Whatever bad vibes he'd gotten from 
Alihra, it was obvious that Nick had gotten the same or 
worse.  "Nick, why were you late?  And is that a hint of 
color I detect in your cheeks?" he asked with somewhat of a 
teasing tone.  What if he and Nat had...  And that was 
why...  Woah, better not go there, Schanke admonished 
himself.

"Nat tried a new drug on me.  It kinda worked, but it kinda 
didn't.  Which reminds me, if I start acting weird you have 
to make me go home," Nick commented absently as he placed 
his head in his hands.  

"Nat tried a what?  You mean she cured you?!" Schanke cried, 
ready to leap out of his chair and congratulate his partner.  
The sharp look Nick gave him made him realize how loud he 
was being, and he sat down.  "Sorry..." he apologized, 
slightly embarrassed at his own outburst.  He knew Nick 
didn't like being singled out, and he especially didn't like 
reminding his fellow officers about his little problem with 
sunlight.

Nick sighed tiredly.  "She tried something similar to the 
Lidovuterine but..."

"Wait, Nick.  Isn't the Lidovuterine the stuff that made you 
go all psycho?" Schanke interrupted, suddenly wary.  He 
raised his hands and wiggled his fingers like claws for 
emphasis, putting a little sadistic curl to his lip.  He
didn't want to have to deal with that all over again.  

"Yeah, but this stuff is different.  Nat says that it 
shouldn't have the mind altering effects that the 
Lidovuterine had.  But you're supposed to keep an eye on me 
just in case," Nick said, sounding somewhat embarrassed that 
he was asking his friend to watch him.    

Schanke could understand that, he'd never been comfortable 
asking for favors like that either.  "Sure I can do that," 
he assured his partner quickly and then he dropped the 
subject as if it had never been brought up.  "So did it work 
or not?" he asked anxiously, hoping desperately that maybe 
his friend had finally found the mortality that he had 
sought for for so long.  

"Kind of," Nick commented, turning his hand palm up and then 
palm down in a repeated motion.  "I'm about half-and-half 
right now.  I don't know if or when it'll wear off," Nick 
said somewhat worriedly.  

It was obvious to Schanke that Nick preferred being one of 
the extremes, and not halfway between mortal and vampire.  
Although, to Schanke, half-and-half sounded like it would be 
much better.  If it was an ideal combo, with the strengths 
of both and none of the weaknesses.  But then it occurred to 
him that maybe the reason Nick was looking so worried was 
that it was the unideal combo.  The weaknesses of both and 
practically none of the strengths...

"Well, hey, Nick.  It's a start.  Maybe it'll work with the 
second dose..." he tried to assure him.  

Nick only groaned, running his hands through his soft blond 
hair and shaking his head.  "If the second dose is anywhere 
near as unpleasant as the first one, then it had better 
work..."  

Schanke didn't really know what to say to that.  It hadn't 
occurred to him that the drugs his partner was trying could 
be potentially harmful to him.  Jeez, to be that desperate 
for a cure...  It was a scary thought.  One that he didn't 
particularly want to entertain.  

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see...  So...  
What are we going to do about the case?" he questioned, 
switching to a more work related topic.  Seeing that blatant 
vampire kill had been very scary.  He'd not seen once since 
he'd found out about Nick, and now that he had the 
knowledge of vampires it was very frightening.  Especially 
when he knew how well vampires could camouflage themselves 
amongst mortal society.  Hell, his partner was one and he 
hadn't known for quite awhile.  

He supposed it was even scarier knowing that Nick was 
capable of doing that if he chose to, although Schanke 
doubted that Nick would ever do that now.  There had been 
the past, which Nick had reluctantly related bits and 
fragments about, but Nick was too good of a person now to 
even think about it.  

"I figured we'd go over to the Raven and ask around.  If 
there's a new vampire in town, Janette will probably know," 
Nick interrupted Schanke's musings quietly.  

The Raven.  That's where Nick always went for tips on his 
cases, or at least to see Janette under the guise of 
getting tips...  He chuckled at the thought.  "Sure Nick, 
although I'm not entirely sure what Alihra will think of 
that...  The Raven's got pretty weird clientele," he 
commented.

Finally!  Schanke wanted to shout and point, for there on 
Nick's face appeared the most reluctant of smiles.  "Yeah, 
well, what can I say other than stay away from the ones who 
look hungry," Nick said good-humoredly. 

"Who looks hungry?" a rich feminine voice asked innocently 
from behind Schanke.  Nick looked up, surprised, and sat up 
board straight from his former relaxed slouch, all joking 
manner vanishing from his persona.  

Schanke felt himself turning a deep shade of crimson.  
Hopefully she hadn't heard the remark about the weird 
clientele.  "And trust me, Don.  I can handle myself quite 
well in the presence of less than civilized people..." she 
said reproachfully.  Inwardly, Schanke groaned.  Well there 
went that hope down the drain... 

He turned and cleared his throat purposefully.  "Alihra..." 
was all he could manage to say before his voice inexplicably 
cracked and forced him silent.  She was standing there with 
her arms crossed, tapping her foot somewhat impatiently.  
Schanke looked at her hard.  Something was different.  She 
looked flushed?  Almost as flushed as Nick had looked when 
he'd first come in.  There was a pinkish tone to her smooth 
skin now, where before it had only been a uniform shade of 
pale peach.    

"Well, shall we visit this, what did you call it, Raven, and 
ask around?" Alihra questioned doubtfully, her thinly 
pencilled eyebrow raised in question.  Schanke was the first 
to find himself nod, completely sidetracked from his 
previous train of thought.  

"Uh, yeah..." Nick said weakly from beside him as he 
reached for his coat, obviously as flustered by this woman 
as he was.        

Alihra smiled an alluring, sensuous smile, her pale face 
looking all the more angelic.  "Well, let's go then," she 
commented sweetly, huffing slightly in her black leather 
coat.  It was obvious that she wanted to move things along.  
She certainly didn't waste any time.  

Nick stared at her blankly for a second, and then shook his 
head.  "Yeah, sure," he commented absently as he put his 
coat on and walked out the door, followed shortly by Alihra.  
Schanke was unsure whether his odd behavior was being 
caused by the cure or by Alihra.  Deciding it was the 
latter, he shrugged, grabbed his own trench coat, and was 
quick to join them.

*****

**This is the end of part 8/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (9/21)

The Raven.  Nick stared at the door warily.  The energetic 
beat of the Raven's gothic music was missing, as was the 
usual muscle-clad bouncer standing vigil.  Funny, he didn't 
think it was a holiday or anything.  And even then, that had 
never stopped Janette from keeping the club open.  Even on 
Christmas, the bass was pounding and the dance floor was 
writhing with vampires.  But then, most vampires didn't have 
much use for Christmas anyway.

No, for Janette, the club was an amusement, a way to pass 
the years.  She liked to watch the people as they conversed.  
As they danced...  When she was forced from her haven to 
perform some mundane task she always felt excessively bored.  
The club... well... it gave her life.  It was funny.  No 
matter how much she denied it, Nick felt that The Raven was 
her way to participate in the mortal world.  To have a 
mortal life.  It was an interesting concept.  To have the 
lives of her patrons on loan, simply by watching them as she 
sat regally at her usual spot by the bar.  

"Nick?  What's up, why's this place closed?" Schanke asked 
curiously from behind him, his voice interrupting his 
thoughts.  He looked back only to find both Schanke and 
Alihra watching him expectantly, waiting for an answer to 
Schanke's perfectly reasonable question.  

"I'm not sure.  Let me open the door..." he answered 
truthfully, whipping out his key from his left breast 
pocket.  

Alihra smiled.  "You have a key?  I thought you and Dr. 
Lambert were a thing...  Isn't she jealous?" she prodded 
with a teasing grin, as if she were deliberately trying to 
provoke Nick's rather wild temper. 

Nick looked at her in shock, taken aback by her boldness.  
"Of course not!  Janette is a good friend, nothing more..." 
he said angrily in his own defense, wondering who this woman 
thought she was, asking him a personal question like that 
when she wouldn't even tell them specifically why she was 
there.  It also bothered him a bit that Alihra seemed to 
think him capable of cheating on Natalie.  That wouldn't 
happen in a million years.  He'd worked too damn hard to get 
things the way the were now, and he wasn't going to mess it 
up by having some fling with Janette, or anyone else for 
that matter.

"But she used to be more..." Alihra hedged, either unaware 
of his anger, or apathetic towards it.  Whichever it was, it 
was still quite disconcerting.  

Nick felt fear growing in the pit of his stomach.  How did 
this woman know so much about him?  How did she know things 
that he'd never told her, that she wouldn't be able to find 
by simple information digging.  "Not for a long, long 
time..." he whispered wistfully, a pained tone entering his 
voice.  For some reason he found himself unable to lie to 
her.  

Alihra smiled in triumph as he shakily turned the key in the 
lock.  "Was it serious?  Major commitment?" she asked. 

Thankfully, Schanke finally chose that moment to break into 
the conversation.  "Alihra, pardon me for saying this, but 
it's obvious that Nick doesn't want to talk about this... 
why don't you just let it be?" he asked her in an annoyed 
tone, stepping between the two of them

Nick sighed in relief as Alihra gave Schanke a hateful glare 
but remained silent.  Thank you, Schanke.  What a 
lifesaver.  He'd felt like he'd been backed into a hole 
and that the only escape would be to confess his innermost 
soul and secrets.

The door opened slowly with a creak and Nick peered inside.  
The expanse was completely empty, encased in the darkness 
except by the bar where a lone vampire stood mutely, wiping 
glasses off with a towel.  Miklos.  

Nick turned to both Alihra and Schanke as soon as he 
recognized the man at the bar.  "Guys, you might want to 
wait here," he said, motioning to the stoop inside the door.  
Alihra nodded mutely, although slightly reluctantly, as 
Schanke walked in and planted himself on the top step by the 
railing, obviously prepared to sit for a long while.  

Nick descended the short staircase and approached the bar 
where the dark, European Miklos was standing, watching him 
cautiously.  "Nick.  What brings you here?" he asked, his 
voice somewhat strained.  

"I need to see Janette.  It's very important.  Is she in 
the back?" he questioned, glancing towards the backrooms 
for emphasis.  

"The last I saw yes, but I would not disturb her.  She was 
accompanied by a man..." Miklos said mysteriously. 

Nick nodded, surprised that he found himself feeling a 
little jealous upon hearing that the fact.  "That's ok.  I 
promise to knock..." he said, faking a light-hearted 
chuckle, wondering just what exactly he _would_ do if 
Janette were with a man.  He respected her privacy, but he 
also desperately needed to talk to her about the kill.  This 
needed to be stopped before it happened again, when perhaps 
he and Nat wouldn't be there to cover for it.  

Miklos nodded slowly and went back to cleaning the glasses, 
looking rather warily towards Alihra and Schanke, who were 
conversing quietly by the door.  At least Schanke hadn't 
come down and asked for a drink or anything just to peeve 
him.  That would be _just_ like him, Nick thought with a 
smile.  

With that, Nick turned and went through a cascading 
waterfall of multi-colored decorative beads and into the 
dark back hallway that ran along the side of the public part 
of the Raven.  His feet hit the lush, blood red carpeting 
almost silently as he progressed up the old wooden staircase 
and down the dim walkway towards the third door on the left.  
The door to Janette's private apartment.  He hesitated only 
slightly when he arrived at Janette's closed door.  He heard 
a muffled sound coming from within her private chambers.  He 
strained to listen with his slightly dulled sense of 
hearing.  It sounded like... crying.  

He knocked loudly, his knuckles rapping on the cold oak wood 
of the door in quick succession..  "Janette?" he called, 
suddenly very concerned.  

"Nichola...  go away!" came Janette's voice back through 
the door.  She sounded panicked, but when she followed her 
request with a cry of pain, he couldn't bring himself to do 
as she asked.  

He forced open the brass doorknob with a little bit of 
applied strength.  "Janette!" he cried, running into the 
apartment as swiftly as he could upon hearing another sob 
emanate from her lips.  

She was lying curled up on the floor between her large, 
king-sized bed and her antique writing desk, fully clothed 
in a black satin dress and very much alone.  He ran to her 
side across the plush carpet, sweeping up her body in his 
arms.  "Janette, what's the matt..." he began to ask, but he 
stopped when he noticed the steady trickle of blood flowing 
freely from two neat punctures at the base of her neck.  
She'd been bitten...  

Janette began to tremble, the shivers racking her body in 
tiny little waves, starting from her chest and descending 
all the way down into the tips of her perfectly pedicured 
feet.  "Nichola, I'm sorry!  I did not tell them anything!  
Forgive me!" she cried deliriously, rocket back and forth in 
distress.

"What?  Tell who?" he asked, completely confused as she 
began to mumble on incoherently in her native French.

He shook her lightly, enough to get a few moments of 
lucidity.  "Ooooh, Nichola," she moaned, her wild mane of 
dark brown curls damp and flattened with sweat.  "Je suis 
très désolée..."  

"For what, Janette?  Why are you sorry?  Tell me what's 
wrong and I can help!"  Her teeth chattered relentlessly, 
and she did not answer.  Nick inhaled deeply and clenched 
his jaw shut, frustrated beyond words.  He set her down on 
the floor gently and went to her private bar, grabbing a 
bottle of uncut blood.  He thought briefly about giving her 
some of his own blood, but realizing that he had no idea 
what effect the Lyzatrex would have on her, he decided that 
wasn't the best choice. 

He sat down next to her shaking body and uncorked the 
unlabeled glass bottle, gently sitting her up so that her 
head was resting in his hand, and tilting the mouth of the 
bottle towards her sensuous lips.  After several moments, 
she grabbed the bottle and began to gulp it down readily as 
if she hadn't fed in years.  

With the last swallow, she brought her chin forward in a 
motion that made it seem like it was difficult for her, but
after, she turned to him with her soft blue eyes, obviously 
troubled.  Obviously in pain.  Nick grew very afraid when he 
saw that the wound on her neck was not healing very much at 
all.   

"Janette, mon coeur, please, what's wrong?" he asked softly, 
pulling her tightly to his chest.  

"Nichola..." she whispered, distractedly, her eyes 
fluttering golden a bit before she was able to quell her 
obvious hunger.  "Your heart... it is beating..." she 
commented, her large eyes opening even wider, amazed at what 
she heard.

"I know.  Nat tried a new drug, and it seems to be working 
somewhat..." he explained quickly.  This was not what he'd 
come to discuss...  She nodded slightly, looking at his 
neck as if it were the most delectable thing in the world, 
and he began to feel slightly uncomfortable.  "Janette, 
control yourself!" he cried as she almost snarled at him, 
her lip curled upward in a hungry grimace.  

Breathing hard, she looked at him.  "I am sorry, Nichola...  
I do not know what has come over me..." she commented 
absently, fingering the wound in her neck softly, wincing 
when she hit a particularly sore spot.  "It must be their 
fault..." she whispered, looking at him in sheer terror.  

"Who, Janette?  What happened?" he questioned once again, 
hoping that he would finally get an answer.  At this point 
the curiosity was burning so brightly within him it 
threatened to turn him to ash, as sure as the sun on a 
bright clear day. 

Janette looked at him sadly, placing a blood-red nail onto 
his supple lips.  "They are here, Nichola.  I only met one, 
but I've never seen one traveling alone...  Always in 
pairs..." she sighed deeply.  He was already getting a very 
bad inkling as to where this was going.

"The Enforcers, Nichola.  One was asking about you...  He 
came as soon as the sun set, I was unprepared...  When I 
refused to tell him anything, he did this..." she said, 
gesturing towards her now slowly healing neck.

"They took what they wanted from my blood..." she said with 
an ever increasing amount of dread, until she finally began 
to sob, repeating that she was sorry.  

Nick felt his stomach sink as a feeling of utter coldness 
hugged his soul short of breath.  The Enforcers.  Looking 
for him.  They must've found out somehow that he'd broken 
the code.  Numerous times.  Oh God, Schanke...  Natalie...  
They were both in danger...  Glancing between Janette and 
the door, his heart began to pound.  "Janette, Janette I 
have to go...  Have to warn..." he said mechanically, his 
voice dying in a slow wheeze as he realized how much trouble 
he was in.  Not one, but _two_ mortals knew about vampires 
because of him.  He had to get out of here and warn them... 
he had to get Nat and Schanke to someplace safe... 

"Nichola, NO!  If they found me, they can find you," she 
began in a frantic effort to get him to listen to reason, 
interrupting his panicked train of thoughts.  "They are 
probably watching you this instant!  If you run to Natalie 
they will know and they will kill you without hesitation.  
Don't run away Nichola.  There is a chance that they did not 
glean everything that they could from my blood.  They may 
not know everything.  If you run away, if you warn Natalie 
and Schanke, then that advantage is lost!" she pleaded, 
grabbing onto the lapels of his shirt ferociously.  

Nick looked again towards the door, but the initial panic 
was slowly dying as reason began to kick in.  The Enforcers 
hadn't killed him, or Nat, or Schanke, yet.  And that was 
for a reason.  Maybe they didn't know all the facts, maybe 
they just weren't sure if his small transgressions were 
worth their time.  After all, Nat had proven herself a 
valuable asset in covering up for the community, and Schanke 
had proven to be quite trustworthy. 

Janette was apparently watching him and knew what he was 
thinking.  She attempted to encourage his course of logic as 
much as she could.  "Oh, Nichola...  Promise me you won't 
run away!  If you don't run, they may be willing to grant 
you mercy..." she pleaded with him, her eyes filled with a 
burning passion.

Nick opened his mouth slightly to protest, but she cupped 
her smooth hand across his mouth and prevented it.  
"Promise," she demanded softly, blue eyes flashing wildly. 

He closed his eyes in pain.  "I promise Janette," he 
whispered sadly, taking her into a tight embrace.  She 
really was right.  If the Enforcers were indeed after him, 
there was not much he could do about it anyway.  But if they 
_were_ after him, why hadn't they gotten him yet?  It's not 
like he was all that hard to find...  But that only meant 
that they were observing him...

**This is the end of part 9/21.  All comments may be sent to 
Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (10/21)

His mind brightened at the possibility.  Maybe if he could 
solve this case, they would be more lenient with him...  He 
could show them how he helped uphold the code...  "Janette, 
have you seen any new vampires in town _besides_ the 
Enforcer who bit you?"

"No, Nichola.  No one new has passed through that I've 
seen," Janette answered, slightly confused by his quick 
subject change.  "Why on Earth do you ask?"

"That's why I originally came here.  There's been a messy 
vampire kill that was left completely out in the open.  No 
witnesses or anything.  I had been hoping you could provide 
me with a lead..."

"Ah..." Janette nodded, understanding, but not quite 
grasping how he'd steered to that subject...

"Janette, if I can stop this rogue before he kills again, 
then the Enforcers may be lenient with me," he explained.  

Her eyes widened and she kissed him lightly on the cheek, 
forgetting both her physical and emotional pain momentarily.  
"Oh, Nichola...  I do hope so.  I do not know what I would 
do if you were dead.  I do not want you to die!" she cried.  

"I won't if I can help it," he assured her, although the 
feeling of dread from  before was coming back to rest in the 
pit of his stomach.  As with the mysterious Alihra, he felt 
like he was being backed into a corner, hunted...  "I just 
don't understand who would've done this!  There wasn't even 
an attempt to disguise the bite marks.  It's like someone 
just left the body there, with the _intention_ of me... 
finding it..." his voice trailed off as he realized that 
what he'd proposed had a high probability of being true, 
especially if Janette had neither seen nor heard of a new 
vampire in Toronto.

Someone was baiting him.  Toying with him before they went 
in for the kill...  But who?  He got up to leave and ponder 
his situation, but his thoughts were interrupted when he 
felt a tingling sensation in his nose, an inexplicable urge 
to... "ACHOO!" 

Janette looked up at him sharply.  "Nichola...  you 
sneezed..." she said, worriedly stating the obvious...  

Nick turned towards her, a strange look of confusion marring 
his normal emotional mask.  "I..."  He didn't know what to 
say.  He hadn't sneezed since...  well he couldn't remember 
the last time he'd just randomly sneezed.

Janette got up from the floor and rushed over to him.  "You 
sneezed!" she cried again, shaking a pointed index finger at 
him wildly.  "This drug Natalie is trying on you, it is 
making you sick!" she accused angrily. 

"Janette, I'm sure it's fine..." he tried to reassure her, 
while at the same time reassuring himself.  So that was what 
a sneeze felt like.  Odd...  

"Nichola, I've never heard you sneeze before, and you tell 
me that this is all right?" Janette questioned, perplexed.  

"Janette, relax!  If I sneeze, that's a good thing, right?  
If I want to become mortal, I have to deal with the problems 
as well as the advantages..." he rationalized quietly, 
hoping she'd understand.

Janette sat down in a nearby chair in a huff.  "Mortals have 
no advantages.  They grow old and they die..." she said, 
dejectedly.  "Nichola...  I...  This quest of yours to 
become mortal does not bother me so much as the concept of 
me losing you..." she told him honestly, her soft French 
accent becoming more and more pronounced the more emotional 
she got. 

Nick felt himself smile.  This was the first time she'd ever 
admitted that she needed him as much as he needed her.  They 
were each other's only constant through the changing decades 
and centuries.  "Janette, I know..." he commented softly, 
reaching down to pull her up from the chair and into a warm 
embrace.  "But as far as I'm concerned, we can deal with 
that if and when it happens.  I'm not mortal yet..." he 
tried to console her as she started to weep, immediately 
feeling bad.  

"But you are getting close...  I don't want to be alone, 
Nichola...  You're the only static thing that I have 
left..." she whispered into his chest, blood tears beginning 
to fall freely from her damp eyes. 

Nick swallowed as he heard her forlorn whimpering.  That was 
partially his fault.  LaCroix...  He'd always gotten along 
much better with Janette.  And now he was gone...  "Janette, 
I don't know what to say.  I can't stop my quest because of 
this..." he said, hoping that his admission would not make 
her angry.  But at the same time, he felt that he was being 
terribly self-centered.

Janette looked up and wiped her eyes with her fingers.  "I 
know, Nichola.  I know that I am being selfish...  You 
deserve your happiness," she said softly, and then she 
started to cry again.

"Shhh, Janette...  It's all right..." Nick found himself 
saying as his own tears began to fall.  But it wasn't all 
right.  If this cure worked, things were going to be more 
difficult than he thought...

***** 

Schanke glanced down at his watch for the third time in as 
many minutes, they'd been in there talking for two hours.  
He stared nervously at Alihra.  "I don't know what's taking 
him so long...  Usually he's in and out..." he excused his 
partner, but Alihra only smiled.  

"It's quite all right, Don.  Tell me, is Nick often like 
this?" Alihra asked, looking away towards the empty bar as 
if to de-emphasize the fact that she was being nosy.    

"Like how?" Schanke asked cautiously, looking in the 
direction of her glance.  Miklos had left about an hour ago 
to go take inventory in the basement, and it was just the 
two of them sitting alone on the stoop of the dark, 
unnervingly silent Raven. 

"Leaving you here doing nothing while he goes and solves the 
case alone..." Alihra explained, her voice dripping with a 
sickly sweet innocence that made Schanke queasy. 

Schanke sighed.  "He used to, now he doesn't at all.  I 
think the only reason he didn't bring me along to talk to 
Janette this time is because of this..." he commented, 
gesturing to the unexpectedly closed Raven.  "Janette 
doesn't really mind if I come to talk to her during business 
hours, but she has a low tolerance for having her privacy 
interrupted," Schanke said with a chuckle, remembering the 
last time he'd come here without Nick to see if she had any 
tips on a case.  

That had not been pretty at all, although Nick was laughing 
out his ears when he found out Schanke had been scared out of 
his wits upon trying to enter the Raven during the daytime.  
Luckily Janette had recognized him before a crisis had 
happened...  He could still remember her snarling viciously 
at him.  And he thought that she was a scary woman when she 
looked normal...  Vampire Janette was not one to be trifled 
with, not at all, and he commended Nick for his bravery.  Of 
course, Nick and Janette were on much more even ground...

"So how close is he with Janette?" she asked, curiously, her 
emerald eyes flashing.  

"I think that if he wants to tell you that, it's his 
business," Schanke commented dryly.  This woman had a 
terrible propensity for prying.  

"Well, what about Dr. Lambert.  What's going on with her?" 
Alihra asked, rapidly changing her approach. 

Schanke stared at her in amazement.  She just didn't quit!  
"Natalie is Nick's significant other, as I believe you 
termed it.  They're real serious, and I'm not going to say 
another word unless it's common knowledge that you could 
find elsewhere just as easily..." he said, rather annoyed.  

Alihra seemed to realize that she was making all the 
progress of a runner on a treadmill, so she switched 
approaches again, much to Schanke's increasing irritation.  
"So, Nick has a sun allergy?  Don't you find that the least 
bit odd?"  

"Of course it's odd!" Schanke cried anxiously, "He has a 
very rare skin condition, I believe Nat called it something 
like Hemolotololopapsia... but I can't remember..."  Alarm 
bells were starting to chime rapidly in Schanke's head.  He 
didn't like where this was going at all.  Not one bit.  

"That's not really the cause, he has no disease.  There's 
something that you're not telling me," she said, her almond 
shaped eyes narrowing ever so slightly, marred with 
suspicion.

"I..." Schanke felt a lump forming in his throat.  Nick had 
never really coached him on what to say in a situation like 
this.  His partner had trusted his judgment to keep his 
secret and keep it well.  God help him if he blew it.  

"I thought so..." Alihra said haughtily, a wicked smirk 
splitting her flawless face.  She then turned to stare 
directly into Schanke's eyes, and he felt himself start to 
go weak in the knees.  Lucky for him that he was sitting 
down...

"Why don't you tell me what you know?" she asked 
seductively as she curled her sinuous body over his, and he 
heard her voice as if it was resonating in his head, echoing 
off the sides of his skull.  He could hear his heart beating 
steadily in his ears, a rumbling sea of pounding war drums.

"Tell you ... what I know..." he found himself repeating 
dangerously, unable to stop himself.  It felt like she had 
a grip on his mind, commanding it to bend to her will.  
Almost like Nick when he was mesmerizing someone...  

"What do you know about Detective Knight's allergy?" she 
prodded, taking hold of his shoulder with her hands as she 
looked deeply into his eyes, her voice echoing as if it were 
being thrown across a wide canyon.  

"I...  I..." he found himself gasping for breath, 
desperately trying to resist, but finding that he simply 
could not.  

And suddenly, the strange sensation left his mind as if it 
had never been, his heartbeat receding back into his chest 
where it belonged.  He heard Alihra groan beside him, 
frustrated.  Why?  

Oh... he realized then why she'd stopped, as Nick solemnly 
appeared at the door to the back, his face screwed up in a 
picture of grief.  Strangely, he was wearing a different 
shirt than the one he'd entered with, and Schanke wondered 
distractedly whether Alihra noticed the change at the same 
time as wondering why on Earth Nick had switched shirts.  

"Nick!" he cried.  He had to tell Nick about Alihra.  About 
how she had been prying.  About her strange hypnosis 
ability.  Unless...  Unless she was a vampire?  Nah...  
Nick would've mentioned that, and knowing Nick, he certainly 
wouldn't have left him alone out here with her if she was 
one, especially since Nick was visibly disturbed by her as 
well.

"Schanke, I have to go.  I have to take care of something 
before it's too late..." he said, his voice growing hoarse 
with raw emotion.  It was obvious that he'd been crying...  

"Nick, what's wrong?" Schanke asked, worriedly, but Nick 
didn't even seem to hear him as he walked towards them, a 
prisoner of his own overwhelming grief.  He was heading for 
the door.  He was going to leave him here with Alihra!  
"Nick, wait!" he cried frantically.

But it was too late.  Nick shoved past them and left before 
Schanke could utter another word.  With the slamming of the 
door, he felt Alihra grab him harshly and pull him out of 
the Raven and onto the frigid street, her nails clutching 
the lapels of his shirt like sharp talons.  He tried to 
break free, he really did...  "Tell me what you know..." 

And God help him, Schanke could do nothing other than 
submit.       

*****

**This is the end of part 10/21.  All comments may be sent 
to Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (11/21)

He landed only quick enough to be thrown almost completely 
off balance by a terrible sneeze.  "ACHOO!"  His whole body 
flung forward with the intensity, his black leather boots 
unwittingly kicking up a fine layer of dusty snow.  Nick 
wiped his sniffly nose on the back of his hand, not having 
a handkerchief or anything else with which he could take 
care of his problem.  He'd been sneezing a lot since that 
first one that he'd experienced while talking with Janette.

The air was cold, so much so that he was surprised it 
wasn't frozen solid, and he wished at once that he'd had 
the smarts to have bought a warmer coat.  Although it wasn't 
like he actually would've needed it until now.  He'd found 
that after the initial shock of receiving the Lyzatrex had 
warn off, most of his vampire powers still quite accessible, 
like the power of flight he'd used to get here so quickly, 
but he was also noticing that things were affecting him more 
than usual.  He was more sensitive to the bitter cold night 
air, and he had a hunger looming about his stomach that he 
wasn't necessarily sure whether it was for blood or not.  

He clutched Schanke's red scarf tightly around his cold neck 
and red-flushed face.  Thankfully, his partner had been nice 
enough to loan it to him on the way to the Raven when he had 
mentioned that he was really cold.  

He sighed.  Schanke...  Nick realized he was feeling 
particularly guilty for leaving Schanke with Alihra so 
unexpectedly, but his conversation with Janette had made it 
apparent to him what he needed to do.  He wanted Christmas 
with Nat to be special.  And now he had the perfect idea.  

Sobbing slightly, he realized that there was a good chance 
he wouldn't even live to see Christmas, what with Enforcers 
and a hunter of some sort after him.  He only had to make 
it another thirteen days.  Thirteen days. 

He approached his destination at a more than leisurely gate 
and tapped gently on the glass door.  A short balding man in 
his bathrobe, sitting on a stool within, smiled upon seeing 
Nick's arrival and immediately got up to let him into the 
store.   

He entered quickly and looked first left and then right.  
Finally choosing a direction, strode down the aisle, the dim 
lighting bringing out his haggard features in a ghastly pale 
visage that started even him as he glanced into one of the 
many mirrors that littered the store.  Mortality, it seemed, 
even partial mortality, was not doing good things for his 
stress levels.  

"Well, Mr. Brabant, it's good to see you, although I do hope 
you make it worth my while for opening the store for you so 
early in the morning," the owner smiled cheerfully, trying 
to stifle a glaringly obvious need to yawn.  

Nick smiled sheepishly as he glanced at his watch.  It was 
rather early, especially for someone who was not working on 
the nightshift.  "Don't worry, Mr. Mathias.  I'll add in an 
extra twenty percent onto the final price to make up for the 
inconvenience," he said quietly as he looked around, hoping 
that something would catch his eye.  Something special.  
Something eternal.  

"Ooh, Mr. Brabant, you're too kind," Mr. Mathias said with 
a greedy smile, clasping his hands together and raising his 
index fingers towards his lips in the classic gesture of 
complacence.  However kind the man may have been on a 
regular basis, the prospect of making a lot of money always 
made him kinder.     

"ACHOO!"  Nick shuddered as a shiver ran through him.  He 
was getting sick...  Really sick...  

"Bless you, Mr. Brabant!  You sound very ill!" Mr. Mathias 
stated the obvious as he gracefully proffered a crisp 
handkerchief out of his bathrobe's front pocket to his 
special customer.  

"Yeah, I must be coming down with something," Nick sighed 
worriedly as he continued to look around.  There must be 
something here!  Something... 

There!

It was perfect.  Beautiful.  Fit for a queen.  His queen...  
Smiling, he pointed to the display as he walked straight 
towards it with a look of determination.  "I want that 
one..."  

Mr. Mathias's eyes just about bugged out of his head.  "Mr. 
Brabant, are you sure?  That one is rather expensive..." 
Mr. Mathias said cautiously, obviously hoping that Nick was 
not pointing to that one by accident or by 
misunderstanding. 

"I don't care.  Price is not an object in this anyway.  How 
much?" Nick asked carefully, hoping the man did not wish to 
haggle over the price.  He was rapidly developing a 
headache and he didn't think he'd have the energy.

Mr. Mathias smiled and wrote a rather large figure on a 
piece of paper.  "That's fine," Nick said.  "What's twenty 
percent on that?" he asked as he pulled out his black 
checkbook from the inside pocket of his black duster.  

Mr. Mathias wrote another figure onto the sheet.  "Oh, I'm 
so glad to do business with you, Mr. Brabant!  You've 
pretty much paid for the next year's rent!" he commented 
excitedly, obviously very glad that he'd opened the store 
despite his previous misgivings. 

Nick smiled warmly despite his rapidly deteriorating state 
of health.  "I trust this will be ready for me to pick up as 
soon as it's been fitted and my check has been cleared with 
the bank?" he asked, making sure he had the details of the 
contract correct.   

"Oh, absolutely!  I can do it express if you need it in a 
rush.  May I ask who the lucky recipient is?" Mr. Mathias 
asked jovially, running his chubby hand through his 
thinning hair. 

Nick smiled again, this time much more dreamily.  "Someone 
very special..." he said, his voice taking on a far away 
tone. 

Mr. Mathias grinned a toothy smile, his mustache creasing 
upwards ever so slightly.  "Ah, a lovely lady, I'm sure."

"Oh indeed.  And she gets lovelier every day..." Nick sighed 
as he thought of Natalie. 

"Ah, beauty is always greatest when true love has swept up 
the eye of the beholder," Mr. Mathias commented, clapping 
his warm hand across Nick's back in a friendly gesture.  "I 
wish you the best of luck, Mr. Brabant!"     

"Thank you," Nick said as he bid the kind man goodbye and 
stepped back outside into the bitter chill of night.  He 
closed his eyes and took a deep breath, tilting his head 
skyward.  

The sun would be rising soon... 

*****  

**This is the end of part 11/21.  All comments may be sent 
to Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (12/21)

Nat looked at the body on her table, perplexed.  It was 
definitely a vampire kill, no doubt about it.  But there was 
something that was bugging her about it.  Like it was too 
by the book. 

There was not a scratch on the body.  Nothing.  Usually 
she'd found _some_ indication that the victim had put up an 
initial struggle before the vampire hypnotized the victim 
into submission, but this time there had been nothing.  Only 
the two punctures, and a _huge_ amount of blood loss.  It 
was as if this victim had wanted to be sucked dry.  Like it 
was a pleasurable experience.  

Nat subconsciously fingered her neck, where two tiny 
puncture marks had taken up what seemed to be a permanent 
residence.  Although Nick had successfully finished once 
before without biting her, it was a fairly isolated event.  
Only once since then had he been able to make a repeat 
performance, not that Nat minded.  Getting drunk from _was_ 
a very sexual experience, one that she enjoyed thoroughly, 
but she doubted it would be quite the same outside of the 
context she'd experienced it.  

Nick had never really talked about it, and although she was 
dying to know, she didn't think it was her place to ask.  He 
was very uncomfortable just talking about the little things, 
like his hunger, and whatnot.  Talking about feeding from 
someone would probably send him into a terrible guilt 
fest...

"So what did you find?"

The voice penetrated her thoughts, and Nat looked over 
towards the door, startled.  She recognized the older, 
slightly wrinkled, graying woman standing before her almost 
immediately.  "Alihra!  What brings you here?" she asked 
curiously, looking behind her shoulder for either Nick or 
Schanke and growing slightly nervous when she saw neither.  

Alihra approached Natalie hesitantly.  "Nick had to run an 
errand and Schanke's out parking the car.  I got sent in to 
find out any details that you may have found..." she said, 
staring at Nat with a hard glare.  

Nat immediately felt uncomfortable.  Parking the car?  They 
always parked it illegally anyway, it wasn't like someone 
would be taking their spot...  And Nick, running an errand?  
That was logical, he often left in mid-shift if he thought 
something was important enough, but he usually jumped at the 
chance to come and visit her at the morgue.  It had gotten 
to the point that Schanke just didn't even volunteer 
anymore, Nick always got the info from the morgue when they 
didn't come together.  Not to mention that this was a 
'special' case.  They'd never send an 'uninformed' person in 
to talk with her.  Would they?

"Really?  Well," she said distractedly, clearing her throat, 
"it was obviously an animal attack.  I would attribute the 
blood loss to evaporation, but I'm going to have to check 
into that more when I get the opportunity.  I've been busy 
today as you may have guessed...  Suicide rates during 
Christmas and New Years always skyrocket..." she babbled, 
going off on the first tangent that hit her.  Perhaps if she 
dodged the subject and distracted Alihra, she wouldn't ask 
too many questions that she couldn't answer without it 
looking suspicious.  

Alihra smiled.  "Come now, Dr. Lambert...  What did you 
_really_ find?" she asked, her tone getting dangerously low, 
seductive almost.  

She tried to hide her shock at the question, but she 
couldn't help it as her hands began to shake.  This woman 
knew something that she wasn't supposed to know...  "I'm not 
sure what you're talking a..." Nat's voice cut off as she 
saw Schanke come into the room and she sighed in visible 
relief.  "Schanke!"

"Hello, Natalie...  It's so good to see you..." Schanke 
said, almost completely monotone. 

Natalie backed herself against the desk.  "Schank?" she 
asked, a feeling of dread coming to rest in the pit of her 
stomach as Schanke stopped next to Alihra and stared blankly 
ahead.  Nat's eyes shifted to Alihra, who was standing there 
with a ghastly wicked grin on her face.  

Alihra brushed a stray gray hair from her eyes with a blood 
red nail.  "Don't worry, Natalie..." she said sweetly as 
she motioned to Schanke. 

"Don't worry, Natalie..." Schanke said monotonely, in that 
strange, possessed voice, repeating Alihra word for word as 
if he had no mind of his own.  He began to walk towards her 
slowly, his arms outstretched like he was preparing to grab 
her.  He _was_ preparing to grab her...

Nat tried to back up, glancing back and forth between Alihra 
and Schanke with panic, but she realized that she was 
already back as far as she could go.  And she couldn't bolt 
out the door either, Schanke and Alihra were blocking any 
possible exit.  "Schanke?  Listen to me!  She's controlling 
you!  Stop!" she pleaded desperately, but to no avail.  

Schanke said nothing as he grabbed hold of her shoulders 
and clasped his hand in front of her lips to prevent any 
hope of screaming for help.  She struggled against his firm 
grip with all her might, twisting this way and that.  
Despite the fact that she was in much better physical shape, 
she was still no match for Schanke's large frame and he was 
able to hold her fast.  

"Natalie, this won't hurt a bit.  I assure you.  If you 
hold still it will make it easier and then we can all go 
home..." Alihra said, slightly condescendingly.  It was as 
if she thought Nat a mere child.  

Nat's eyes widened and she kicked her feet out in one last 
ditch effort to escape, knocking over a tray of scalpels and 
whatnot, her blue heeled pump flying off her foot and almost 
right into Alihra's pale, lined face.  Alihra dodged and 
quickly righted herself.  "You little witch!  How can Nick 
like you?!" she screeched as she advanced upon Nat and 
slapped her stingingly across the face.  

Tears sprang into her eyes and Nat blinked furiously to keep 
them from falling, breathing hard into Schanke's warm hand.  
What on Earth was going on?  She didn't understand at all, 
Alihra had seemed perfectly fine, if not a little strange at 
the crime scene...  She cried out futily into Schanke's hand, 
but all the resulted was a muffled moan.  No one out in the 
hallways would be able to hear her...

"Now, Natalie, I want you to look at me..."  Alihra said 
threateningly, her hand raised again to discipline her if 
need be.  

Nat squeezed her eyes shut in response, turning her head 
away as far as Schanke's firm grasp would allow.  Another 
slap.  "Look at me!" cried Alihra, frustration dripping from 
her voice.  She was obviously not used to such furious 
resistance...  

"If you don't look at me, I'll have Schanke carry you out to 
Nick's Cadillac and lock you in the trunk while we go to 
the loft and stake him while he sleeps..." Alihra said, her 
tone going from angry to dangerously low.  Dangerously 
calm... 

Natalie felt her heart stop in her chest as he mind began to 
race.  This was a hunter.  It had to be...  And she would 
kill Nick if she didn't cooperate...  But she would kill 
Nick if she _did_ cooperate too...  wouldn't she? 

Apparently knowing exactly what she was thinking, Alihra 
continued.  "Look at me!  I'm not going to kill him if I can 
help it but you're not giving me much choice!"  

Nat hesitantly opened her eyes and looked into Alihra's 
shocking fiery green ones.  She couldn't help but notice how 
incredibly exotic they looked, with the golden streaks in 
them they looked almost...  hypnotic...  

"Now, Natalie," Alihra said, sighing with obvious relief.  
"I want you to tell me what you found..." she commanded 
huffily with a slight shake of her head, the condescending 
tone returning to her rich feminine voice.  The command 
echoed for years in her head, and it almost felt like her 
brains were being turned to mush as the older woman spoke.  
And then it turned to a terrible pressure.  Her legs gave 
out, but Schanke caught her before she could fall to the 
cold, tiled floor.  

"Don, remove your hand from her mouth so she can speak..."  
Alihra said smoothly.  Schanke's hand fell from her mouth 
almost the same instant that the command was issued.  

Nat knew she should scream for help.  She knew it...  And 
yet she found herself strangely unable to.  The pressure on 
her head and her chest were increasing.  "Tell me what you 
found!" Alihra said more forcefully this time.  

"I...  I...  Two..."  Natalie found herself speaking, 
completely outside of her control.  It was as if she was 
sitting somewhere outside her body, helplessly watching it 
respond to the commands of this mysterious woman.  

"Yes, two?" Alihra said excitedly, almost visibly jumping in 
a cheer of success.  

"Two...  punctures...  vampire..."  That was the last thing 
that she had conscious realization of saying, her resistance 
completely lost.  Natalie sighed as the pressure became too 
much and she fell into the heavy black waterfalls cascading 
across her view field.    

*****

**This is the end of part 12/21.  All comments may be sent 
to Diane Harris at aria5@vt.edu.**

EYE OF THE BEHOLDER (13/21)

Nat sighed as she pulled open the elevator door, dusting off 
the wet snowflakes from her overcoat and wild hair.  Damn 
headaches!  She'd had an awful bordering on a migraine 
headache since that stupid autopsy, which, of course, had 
shown her nothing except what she had already known from the 
start.  

"Nick?!" she called out tiredly as she set her purse down on 
the floor beside the door and strode across the practically 
empty floor, her heels clicking on the cold hard wood as she 
progressed.  No answer.  

She rubbed her temple with her hand as she glanced about, 
the shooting pains in her forehead increasing slightly.  
Nick was nowhere to be seen, at least on the first floor.  
Odd...  He _always_ waited for her to get home, and she for 
him.  

<MREEEEOOOW!>

Natalie glanced down, where a certain gray and white fur 
ball was now rubbing furiously against her legs.  "Hey, Sid.  
Didn't Nick feed you?" she asked curiously as if she 
expected an answer.  Even if Nick was too tired to wait up 
for her she would've hoped that he would've taken care of 
her poor, obviously starving cat.  Hah.  That was a laugh.  
He was so spoiled that the day Sidney was starving was the 
day that Hell froze over.  Not that that wouldn't be hard 
with the weather they were having...

After taking care to feed her over-indulged cat, she walked 
up the stairs and poked her head in their bedroom only to 
find Nick dead to the world.  Damn!  She'd wanted to talk to 
him about how the Lyzatrex was working.  Not having the 
heart to wake him up when he was obviously tired, she 
decided that that discussion would have to wait until 
tomorrow.

She wandered back downstairs and over to the fridge, 
grabbing an apple for a quick snack.  With a groan, she sat 
down at the black table in the kitchen, eating quickly.  She 
was tired.  And her head hurt.  Sydney hopped up onto the 
table to keep her company, purring up a storm.  

"Hey, Sid.  Got any miracle cures for headaches?" she asked 
jokingly, rubbing her temples again in pain.  Since she'd 
already taken well beyond the max dosage of ibuprofen, there 
really wasn't much else she could do.  Sydney just looked at 
her, meowing in indignation as her hands went to pet her 
forehead rather than his.  She laughed despite her 
discomfort and indulged him briefly, rubbing behind his soft 
ears and underneath his chin.  His most favorite spots. 

After she finished appeasing her cat and her stomach, Nat 
went back upstairs.  Ooooh to join Nick in sweet slumber...  
Quickly undressing, she looked around for her nightgown.  It 
was gone...  DAMNIT!  

Frustrated and not really interested in rummaging around for 
a clean one, she just grabbed a pair of Nick's black satin 
pajamas off of his valet and put them on.  As tired as she 
was, she laughed slightly as they tented around her, way too 
big for her and yet still very comfortable...  Very... 
smooth...  She wiggled a bit in them and smiled as she 
turned towards the bathroom with all intents of going to 
brush her teeth and be done with it.    

<COUGH>  

She stopped cold in her tracks.  Was that Nick?  She looked 
more closely at him than she had the last time she'd come 
up and noticed that his sleep was not nearly as peaceful as 
she'd originally assumed.  His face was covered with small 
beads of bloodsweat, and his breathing sounded very labored.  
Normally when he slept you couldn't see him breathing at 
all, and now his chest was heaving up and down like he was 
running a marathon.

"Nick?" she called as she approached the bed.  He coughed 
again as she placed her hands on his shoulders and shook 
him.  

Unlike how he usually awoke involuntarily, snarling and at 
the ready, he opened his eyes blearily.  "Nat?" he asked, 
his voice hoarse and painful as he broke into a coughing 
fit.  

"My God, Nick!  You look terrible!  Is this the Lyzatrex?  
Why didn't you call?" she started asking him questions a 
mile a minute, but it was obvious she'd lost him pretty 
much with the utterance of the name.  His eyes closed and 
she shook him hard, her own headache all but forgotten.  

She glanced at her watch.  She'd given the Lyzatrex to Nick 
almost eleven hours ago.  That wasn't much time for any 
disease to multiply enough to be seen, symptom-wise, and 
that was assuming that he'd been infected the second the 
Lyzatrex had kicked