A Knight in London

by L'Phantom

To the mortal eye, the sign said simply, "Barrister's Pub," but with preternatural sight, the line under the text resolved into "Vampires Welcome." This was the place he had been told about.

Nick walked into the bar and looked for the barkeep and proprietor, Benjamin Shoreham. Nick saw him at the end of the bar, chatting with a woman who looked to be in her mid-20s. Nick walked over to the pair and asked, "Benjamin Shoreham?"

"A little out of your jurisdiction, aren't you, Detective? Or are you on vacation? Oh, and call me Ben."

Nick startled. "Excuse me?"

"Call me Ben," he repeated. When the woman shook her head, Ben amended, "Oh! You mean, how do I know that you are Nicholas Knight, Homicide Detective from the 96th Precinct of the Toronto Police Department?" At Nick's vacant stare, Ben smiled and continued, "Do you think I would let a vampire into my city without doing my homework first?"

"Well," Nick began after he found his voice, "I had come here to announce myself, but it appears you already know I'm here."

"Quite." Ben indicated the young woman next to him. "Nick Knight, this is Twilight Ashe, my second."

Twilight extended her hand, which Nick accepted and gently kissed. "A pleasure, madam," he said.

"Bon soir, Monsieur Knight," she replied in Nick's native French.

Ben chimed in, "I hate to break up the introductions, but you still haven't told me why you're here, Detective."

Nick broke out of his dazed stare. "Of course, Mr. Shoreham -- er -- Ben. A few weeks ago, we had a string of murders in Toronto. The killer would cut off the heads and hands of his victims to prevent identification, and save them as trophies."

Twilight grimaced. "How horrible!"

Nick nodded. "We... stopped the man responsible, but two days ago, we got a fax from Scotland Yard telling us about a possible copycat, and, since I was the one who stopped the killings last time, I was sent to assist."

"Of course," Ben replied. "Well, you are quite welcome here. I have three main rules in my city: No Progeny shall be made without my consent. There will be no conflicts between immortals in this pub, or in any museum or theater at any time. And, if you kill, please be good enough to dispose of the body."

"Certainly. You needn't worry about any of that."

"I know. You'll be working with a close friend of mine on the police force who will be quick to inform me if you get out of line." Ben said this with a smile, and, after a moment, Nick realized that Ben was only joking around.

Checking the clock above the bar, Nick said, "Well, I have to go now. Pleasure meeting you both." As he turned to go, Nick thought that he saw Twilight wink at him, but he brushed the thought aside and made his way to the station.

*********

The night dispatcher pointed to an office in the corner. Nick thanked him and made his way to the captain.

Captain Edwards was a tall man in his mid 40s. The lines etched around his eyes told the story of a man who had seen everything, and lots of it. Nick knocked on the window of the open door.

"Ah, yes. You must be Detective Knight, our new liaison officer from Toronto." The captain extended his hand. As Nick shook hands, the captain's nostrils flared briefly, but Nick dismissed it.

"Random," Captain Edwards called out.

A young man stuck his head in the door. "Yes, Da?"

"This is Detective Nick Knight, from Toronto. You'll be working with him on the killings."

"Great!" Random stepped into the office to greet Nick. He was a carbon copy of his father, as if Captain Edwards had been cloned. Everything, even down to the way he shook Nick's hand, was duplicated. The one and only difference Nick could tell was the Random had a slight Southern French accent that his father did not.

"Well, what are you two waiting for? There's a killer out there!" Captain Edwards good-naturedly admonished.

*********

"So, where'd you get the name Random?"

Random glanced at Nick from the driver's side of the car and grinned. "Well," he began in that all-too-familiar accent, "My Da and I have the same name, so they call me Random to ease confusion."

"But why Random? It's not exactly common."

"It's a really... long story," Random replied with a chuckle.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"The M.E. We want you to look at the body and see if you can confirm the MO of the killer."

Nick nodded, half-aware. He was thinking about the strange coincidence that his new partner was related to one of the higher-ups in the department just like Tracy. He wondered briefly what it was that made children follow their father's examples. Nick remembered little of his own father. The only "father" he had was LaCroix, and nothing could persuade him to follow his examples. at least, not anymore:

*********

The year was 1231. Nicholas was still a newborn fledgling learning the extent of his abilities. He looked at the body of the young woman in his arms. He'd been too rough and had broken her neck even as he bent to drain her life's blood from her. He'd killed before, of course, many times in battle, and yet, something kept nagging him that this was somehow different.

"Really, Nicholas, do be more careful with them." His master's voice broke him from his unspoken questions. Nicholas turned, dropping the limp form as a child would drop a broken toy.

"I'm sorry, LaCroix. I just... I can't do it! Not like you do it!" Nicholas looked on the verge of tears.

Janette approached Nicholas from behind and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "In time, Nichola, all in time. We all must learn how to control our powers."

Nick smiled at her over his shoulder, the red tinge around his eyes fading slowly. He took Janette's hand in his and kissed it; held it for a moment, then turned back to LaCroix. "Will you teach me? Will you teach me to kill? The way you do it?"

The elder vampire placed his hand around the back of the fledgling's neck and said, "Of course, Nicholas. Just like I do."

*********

"Nick?"

Nick looked around and realized that the car had stopped. He wondered for how long until he heard Random engage the parking brake.

"Nick?" Random repeated. "You OK?"

Nick shook off the last of his flashback and nodded. "I'm fine, thanks."

Random didn't look convinced, but he shrugged and got out of the car. Nick did the same and followed him toward the Coroner's Office.

Walking down the dimly lit hallway, Nick decided that all morgues must look the same. The same floor, the same walls, the same doors with the same letters. He half-expected to see Nat on the other side of those doors, waiting for him.

She was not, of course. However, Nick did notice another striking similarity between Random's life and his own.

"Hey, Kate!" Random called to the woman sitting at the desk that read "Coroner." He kissed her on the cheek and growled playfully. "Kate, I want you to meet Nick Knight from Toronto. He's working with me on the killings."

Kate grimaced slightly, "I'm sorry."

Nick wrinkled his brow. "What's that meant to mean?"

"Well, we don't get many of these. Serial killers, I mean."

"Because they're all in Toronto," Nick muttered under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, nothing."

Random coughed uncomfortably. "Can we see her?"

Kate pointed to the table across the room. "Go ahead. I'll be here if you need me. I think I've seen enough for today."

"I understand completely."

Random and Nick walked over to the girl's body. Random pulled back the sheet.

Nick noted that the cuts were precision cuts, made with surgical equipment. "Have you IDed the body yet?"

Kate called back, "Not yet. Same with the other two. Nothing to identify."

Nick also noted through his limited forensic knowledge he'd picked up from Nat, that the cuts were made after the victim had died.

"Is it...?" Random trailed off.

Nick nodded solemnly. "It is."

*********

Walking back to the car, Random commented to Nick, "I hate that place. I really hate it."

Nick nodded. Being a vampire, the enhanced sense of smell made the morgue almost unbearable. "I know what you mean. It's not exactly my favorite place in the world, either."

"So," Random continued once they'd gotten back in the car, "Where to now? Do you want to check out the crime scene or go back to the station and read the report?"

Nick was about to choose the former of the two options when the police band radio crackled into life. "Aught-7 Echo, come in please."

Random grabbed the handset. "This is Aught-7 Echo, go ahead."

"Aught-7 Echo, we have a reported homicide in the Whitechapel District, at Buck's Row."

"Aught-7 Echo, responding." Random replaced the handset and turned the key. The car sputtered into life and Random and Nick sped toward Whitechapel.

"Whitechapel?" Nick mused. "Isn't that where Jack the Ripper cut up those five prostitutes in 1888?"

Random snorted, unimpressed. "Cut up? Please. Ben wasn't taught how to feed properly; it was all an accident. The bloodlust got away from 'im, that's all."

'Ben?' Nick thought to himself, and then remembered where he had heard the name Benjamin Shoreham before. Shoreham was one of the men suspected of being Jack the Ripper. It began to make sense to him now. Shoreham was a barrister, hence the name of his Pub, "Barrister's" At the risk of endangering the community further, Nick ventured, "You mean, you know Ben is a --"

"Vampire? Of course. He told me and Da you were coming, and Da saw to it that you'd be working with me so you wouldn't have to worry about hiding the vampire as well as adjusting to a new partner and new surroundings."

'Either the Enforcers are lax in this part of the world, or these two have a few secrets of their own,' Nick thought.

"Indeed we do," Random commented.

If he hadn't been wearing a seat belt, Nick would have fallen out of his seat. "What?!" was all he managed to stutter out.

"I said, indeed we do. Have secrets. Don't we all?"

"Like telepathy, apparently," Nick replied, still dumbfounded.

Random laughed out loud. "That, my dear Detective Knight, is the least of them."

*********

The crime scene looked like something out of a Sherlock Holmes book, Nick noted casually. If not for the presence of modern-day automobiles, Nick would have expected Random's next line to be, "Come, Nicholas, the game's afoot!"

The body had been carelessly dumped in an alley, under some cardboard boxes. As with the others, the head and hands had been cut off by precision surgical equipment. "Another trophy for your wall," Nick muttered.

Nick turned to look for the person who discovered the body, but before he could get very far, Random tugged on his sleeve. "Come on, he went this way!"

Nick started to say "How do you know?" but Random had already made half a block and Nick had to start running after him. After a few blocks, Random made a sharp right turn into an alleyway. With mortal speed, it took Nick a few more seconds to get to the same alley and make the turn, fully expecting to see Random waiting for him.

He did not. What greeted him in the alley was a violent stench of garbage and a lone dog scrounging through some boxes. Nick looked around for a doorway that Random could have ducked into, but didn't find any. The dog ceased its rummaging and began to regard its guest. Nick decided it would be prudent to leave this particular hound to its own devices and quickly turned to go.

"Nick?!" Random's familiar baritone called out as soon as Nick had turned his back.

Nick turned back around, about to admonish his new partner for leaving him in the lurch, but once again saw only the large dog considering him patiently. Now, Nick was worried. Drawing his gun, he looked again for a doorway or any sort of crack or hole in the wall that could house a human being. Still finding nothing, he turned in disgust to find himself staring down at the dog. The animal actually looked amused, Nick thought.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Nick asked playfully.

"Quite a bit, actually," rang out Random's voice. But not Random's. This voice, came from inside Nick's head.

'Great,' Nick thought, 'It's bad enough I'm talking to a dog, but now I'm imagining this thing is my partner.'

'I am NOT a dog!' exploded Random's voice from inside Nick's head.

"Well," said Nick, deciding that if he was going insane, he might as well enjoy the trip, "if you're not a dog, then what are you?"

'What d'you think I am? I'm a werewolf, of course!'

This was a very sobering statement to Nicholas, about like having a drink thrown in your face after a particularly bad pick-up line. Nick reached up with his hand and massaged his eyes for a moment while he tried to wrap his mind around this latest wrinkle.

"There. Is that better?" Random's voice spoke to him again, but more distant this time, less resonant. Nick looked up and saw his partner again, like he remembered him.

'I think you'll find that reality is on the blink again,' was all Nick managed to think of before he mercifully passed out.

*********

Voices. Strange, worried voices above him. Nick caught the mention of his name a few times, as well as the name of his partner, Random. Nick struggled for consciousness and, after a moment, began to open his eyes.

He was lying on a bed in what looked like an attic. No windows, he noted, and only one door, across the room. He tried to concentrate on the conversation going on just outside the door.

"All I'm saying is, he must have taken a pretty big shock to the system," a vaguely familiar female voice stated.

"Did you react this way?" countered a male voice.

"Well... no. Actually, I got pissed off. I was also scared enough by what was going on anyway that finding out about Edouard triggered a defense mechanism; in this case, anger."

"You and your psychology again," chuckled the male voice before continuing, "Well, I just hope this Natalie person can coax him out of it."

At the mention of his love's name, Nick sat bolt upright in bed; rather, he tried, but was stopped abruptly when his head connected with a low-hung rafter above him.

As his eyes refocused, Nick saw the door burst open and was able to put a name to one of the two voices outside as Twilight Ashe, whom he had met at Ben's pub, ran into the room followed by a young man who appeared to be in his late teens.

"Nick, are you all right?" asked Twilight.

"Yeah... I'm fine," Nick replied, massaging his forehead.

Twilight giggled. "Don't feel bad. I did the same thing the first time I woke up in that bed, and I knew about the rafter."

"Is this... is this your house?" Nick asked shakily.

"No, it's not, actually. This is where Random lives. When you passed out, he brought you here to recover. We were beginning to think you had seriously hurt yourself."

"Why is that?"

"Well, you've been out for two days. We called your coroner friend, Natalie. Since she knows more about you than we do, we figured maybe she could help you. She should be here shortly. Random's gone to pick her up from the airport."

Nick sat up, carefully this time, and for the first time looked at the other person in the room, then back to Twilight with a quizzical look.

"Oh, how rude of me," Twilight faltered. "Nick Knight, this is Erik LeBeau, my husband."

'Well, Nicholas, London is just full of surprises, isn't it?' thought Nick to himself. "Wait a minute," he began, "you're a vampire. Doesn't that more or less preclude marriage?"

Twilight sighed, her smile fading only for a moment. "So, you really don't know, do you? I mean, of course I've heard the stories, but I didn't think that they were true."

Now Nick was very confused. Twilight seemed to sense that and sat down in a nearby chair. "Let me try to explain," she said. Erik took the unspoken cue and left the room.

"Nicholas, is it all right if I call you that?" At Nick's permissive nod, she continued. "Nicholas, most of what your master, LaCroix, was it? Anyway, much of what he taught you was... well, not wrong per se, but inaccurate. First of all, it's not the fact that you are a vampire that keeps you from being in love and showing it. It has to do with you not feeding as often as you should. Were you to be with someone now, the bloodlust would consume you, and you would probably kill them, yes. But with regular infusions of blood, that is not a major problem. Sometimes it is difficult to keep the Beast at bay, but the purity and strength of love makes it possible. Only true, pure love works, not some perversion of lust.

"Second, the repulsion by crosses is self-induced. Because you were taught that crosses would burn you, because you believed it, it happens. I can see in your eyes that you don't believe me, so I brought something to prove it." As she said this, she pulled a small cross out of her pocket and held it in her hand. Nick looked away by reflex, but managed to force himself to look upon the cross. It sat, harmlessly, in the palm of Twilight's hand, not smoking or burning her skin in any way. "And I'm not nearly as old as you," she continued.

"Nat... Nat's going to be upset," was all Nick could say. "All this time, we could have... If not for that damned promise!"

"So, that's true, too, about your sister?"

Nick nodded absently.

"Oh." Carefully, Twilight changed the subject. "Random," she prompted.

Nick shook away the echoes of those words he had spoken so many years ago and tried to assimilate what he had been discovering these past few days. "Random is... a werewolf."

"Yes. As, incidentally, is Erik." Twilight seemed about to continue when there came a knock at the door. "Come in," she said.

Nick heart swelled when he saw Natalie enter the room and rush across to him with barely a glance to Twilight. "Nick, are you all right? They said you've been unconscious for days!" She set her medical bag on the bed and began to make sure Nick was normal, or, at least, comparable to a vampiric baseline.

Nick nodded. "I'm fine, Nat. Just shaken."

Random, who had been waiting at the door, came into the room slowly after a nod from Twilight. He came over to Nick's bed cautiously. "I'm... really sorry, Nick. I thought you knew."

"Knew what?" Natalie asked.

Random looked uncomfortably at Nick, then Twilight, and then back to Natalie. Shrugging, he said, "Well, you know about him, you might as well know about me. I'm a werewolf. I shifted in front of Nick, thinking he already knew. That's why he passed out. Not having fed is what kept him under, we're pretty sure."

Natalie, Nick noted, was not fazed in the least. "Werewolves?" she said, fascinated, "Would you mind if I took a blood sample?" she said, drawing a syringe from her medical kit.

Random growled rather loudly. "Yes, I would mind, Dr. Lambert. I hate needles!"

Nick reflexively tried to pull Natalie behind him before Random looked down sheepishly. "I apologize, Dr. Lambert. That was a uncalled-for outburst."

Natalie put the syringe back into her bag. "Natalie, please. Apology accepted. Can we be friends now?"

Random returned to his characteristic cheerful self and said, "Why, of course we can, Natalie," he said with a grin.

Erik appeared at the door again. "Random, your dad just called. Your hunch was right."

Random nodded to Erik, who winked playfully at his wife. The two of them, Erik and Twilight left the room hand in hand. Random then turned to Nick. "Are you feeling all right now?"

Nick nodded. "Yes. What hunch?"

Random smiled. "I'll explain on the way to the station. I think we may have IDed our killer."

*********

When Nick and Random got into Random's car and away from everyone else, Nick became considerably nervous. Random's nostrils flared and he looked over at Nick with a look of genuine concern.

"Nick, is something wrong?"

Nick fought with himself for a moment and decided to tell Random the truth. "Well, actually, I'm a little scared of you."

Random had to fight to keep from laughing. "Scared? Of me?! In Gaia's name, why?"

"Your... kind... doesn't like my kind. Matter of fact, they try to kill us."

Random suddenly became serious, a look that did not often cross his face. "Oh, so that's it. Well, believe me Nick, if I had wanted to kill you, you'd be ashes by now. But, we, I mean, our pack, doesn't do that to vampires who follow the Code and who play by the rules. 'Nuncle Johnny makes sure of it."

"And he is...?"

"Well, he's the pack leader. What he says, goes."

Nick nodded his head, but several thoughts still plagued him.

"You might as well ask away, Nick," Random prodded.

Nick let out a long breath. "Well, for starters, werewolves aren't immortal, are they?"

"No, but we are extremely long lived. We age one year for about every forty. Except for Da, who will only age one year for every four hundred years." Random paused, then continued, "Mom is very possessive."

"You mean, your father's a werewolf, too?!"

"Well, yeah. It's genetic. But the odds are pretty low. Out of Mum and Da's six kids, only me and Lex, that's one of my sisters, wound up being werewolves."

"Is your mother a werewolf, too?"

Random shook his head. "No, when two werewolves mate, the result is always a mutation. It's forbidden in our laws, but still happens sometimes. You must remind me to introduce you to Pinker one night. Whole coat's pink. Bright pink."

"Then what is your mother if she has such powers?"

"My mother is probably one of the, if not the, most powerful mages in this hemisphere."

Nick whistled low. Mages, magick-users, were spoken of in the Community with both fear and awe. Powerful mages, it was said, had the power to create sunlight bright enough to kill in the middle of the night, or could destroy your mind with only a look or a touch.

"Remind me never to run afoul of your mother," Nick said with a shudder.

"I wouldn't worry."

Nick worried a little anyway, but decided to change the subject. "Erik LeBeau," he said, "Wasn't that the name of the Phantom in that Leroux book?"

Random nodded.

"Erik's not... is he?"

Random nodded, grinning.

"But wasn't the Phantom's face deformed and that's why he wore a mask?"

"Yes. And his face was like that for a very long time, too. But just before he and Twilight married, the two of them had fought a very powerful and very evil werewolf... and lost. Da managed to kill the other werewolf, and almost died himself. Anyway, in the process, Erik's face was completely destroyed. Both sides. Mother and a couple of her mage friends worked and repaired the damage, including the damage that was done the first time."

Random was still grinning, and Nick found that it was contagious. "Anything else you want to mention?" Nick said, almost chuckling.

"Well, now that you bring it up, sure. My Da. He's... did you ever read Les Miserables?"

"I saw the show on Broadway, why?"

"Remember the Inspector?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you are."

"What do you -- you mean, your father was Inspector Javert?"

"Yes. And now he's Captain Javert."

"But your father's name is Edwards... I thought."

"And how many times have you changed your name, Monsieur de Brabant?"

Nick smacked himself in the forehead, letting out a Homer Simpson-esque "DOH!"

Random chuckled. "Hey, that's a pretty good impression! Can you do Bart, too?"

'If Random weren't driving,' Nick thought, 'I'd smack him.'

'You probably should do it while I can't use my hands... otherwise you might find yourself in an awkward position,' Random thought at him before turning his head and grinning at Nick with a very feral look on his face, his eyes actually reflecting gold.

Nick clinched his eyes shut and shook his head a little. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Random had turned back to the road. "So," Nick said, "what was that hunch of yours?"

"Well, when we got to the scene, the trail was hot enough that I could track the perp by scent. But when I got in that alley, the trail just stopped. I mean, one minute it was strong and clear, and the next, it was just... gone. I was so confused by it that I didn't take the time to think that you didn't know what I was, so I shapeshifted to get a better idea of what had happened. That's when you came in and, well, you know what happened then. After you passed out and I got Twilight to come get you and take you back to the house, I rooted around some more in the alley and found what looked like a bedsheet with bloodstains on it. It had our perp's scent all over it, so I sent it to the lab boys to see if they could get a clean print off it. I guess they could."

"What does it mean that the trail stopped?"

"It means that the killer isn't human."

"What then?"

"Well, either vampire, werewolf, or mage. A vampire is out, this scent was definitely live. I doubt a mage because of the problems magick can cause when performed carelessly like this would have been."

"A werewolf, then?"

"We'll know pretty soon, I think," Random replied as he pulled into the space marked "Detective" in front of the station.

*********

Captain "Edwards" was there to meet them as they walked in the door. "Ah, Detective Knight. I trust you're feeling better?"

"A little," Nick replied, "Thank you, Insp-- Captain."

Javert the elder looked over to the younger, who returned a look as if to say, "Yes, I told him."

Javert turned back to Nick. "Well, then. Come to my office, you two. I have something to show you."

The two detectives followed him. After they arrived in the captain's office and closed the door behind them, Javert picked a piece of paper up from the desk and handed it to Random.

"This the guy?" Random said as he took the sheet.

"Well, yes and no," answered the captain.

Random and Nick were both confused until they looked at the sheet, Nick looking over Random's shoulder. "Patricia O'Leary," Random read. "Cute name, don't you think, Nick?"

But Nick's mind was already a hundred miles north and a hundred years back.

*********

She was tall. That was the first thing Nicholas noticed about her. She stood several inches above him. She was beautiful. That was the second thing he noticed. Her long red hair and fiery green eyes drew Nicholas in like a fish on a line. She wanted to kill him. That was the third, and, in retrospect, the most important, thing that Nicholas noticed about this woman. She held a crossbow loaded with a wooden quarrel pointed directly at his heart.

Nicholas had only just entered the establishment, hoping for a room to spend the approaching day in when a female voice from the bar shouted out something in Gaelic that definitely sounded profane. Before Nicholas thought to react, the woman had already stood, drawn her crossbow, loaded, fired a warning shot just left of Nicholas' head, and loaded again.

"We dinnae want yer kind here," she spat out, making an otherwise charming accent sound deadly.

"I only require a room until tomorrow evening, and then I shall be on my way," Nick replied, trying to sound as harmless as possible.

"I think we should let the bloodsucker burn!" she called to the other people in the inn. The other patrons, unfortunately for Nicholas, agreed with her.

Nicholas had no idea how she knew what he was, but he wasn't going to take the time to ask. Deciding that cowardice was the better part of valor, Nicholas ran. Before he was even fully out the door, he felt the crossbow bolt strike him in the shoulder. He grabbed at it and broke the end off as he ran into the gray of the coming dawn.

Nicholas ran for the woods where he hoped he could dig into the ground and escape the sun. Just as he passed the first few trees, however, something large and heavy struck him in the back of the legs and he went down. Craning his neck around, Nicholas could see that the something was in fact a someone. The same someone who had shot a wooden crossbow bolt into his shoulder.

"Ye cannae escape me, ye stinking corpse!" she was saying.

Nicholas tried reasoning with her. "Why are you so eager to see me die?" he implored.

"Ye and yer kind kill livin', breathin' people. Other people cannae do it, so why should ye? They die for their crime, and now, so shall ye!"

Reasoning failed. Let's try a little struggle, Nicholas thought. With her still on his legs, Nicholas tried to crawl with his hands, to shake her off. But he found he couldn't move at all, not even when he pulled with his full preternatural ability. Craning his neck around again, he saw the reason. The lovely young lady previously there had been replaced by a creature that looked to be at least 8 feet tall, with very big teeth and very large claws. And yet, was the fur not the same shade as her hair, and wasn't that those same fiery eyes shining from inside that menacing skull? And when it spoke, it was the same voice, but deeper, more brutal, more coarse. "Now you die!" the thing screamed as it reared back with one of its massive clawed hands.

Nicholas had exactly 17 milliseconds to react. He took three to discern that the stories of the werewolf were true. He took four more milliseconds to recall that werewolves could be hurt with silver. Two milliseconds to know that he was indeed carrying silver coins in his purse. Even with inhuman speed like his, though, it still took him seven milliseconds to retrieve a few coins from his purse. During what would be the last millisecond of his life if he failed, Nicholas summoned all his strength and half-buried a coin or two in the werewolf's side.

She yelped much as a dog would when injured. The reflexive jerk caused her arm to move such that Nicholas was only raked by the claws rather than impaled by them. Nicholas used his opponent's moment of pain to wriggle free and stand. For a moment they just stared at each other. Although both injured, they both knew that the werewolf had the advantage, for the dawn was less than twenty minutes away. Nicholas realized that the next move would have to be his. He ran. Again.

Nicholas quickly realized he'd made the wrong move. The werewolf had changed form again into a full-wolfen form and was now chasing Nicholas on four feet, and was catching up with him. Nicholas tried weaving through the trees, but that only allowed the wolf to make up more ground on him, so he returned to a straight path. If not for the sun, Nicholas could have taken off and flown away. And then he saw it. A gorge. With his night vision, Nicholas could see the edge of a large dropoff. He banked to his left and began an all-out run for it, hoping that his pursuer was too concerned with her prey to watch where she was going.

Trying desperately to get the timing right in his head, Nicholas slowed a little bit, allowing the werewolf to close the gap some. Nicholas knew that if he didn't time this next part perfectly, he'd give the trap away, but he had precious few alternatives. The instant he stepped off the ravine edge, he willed himself to flight, but without altering his height. Pumping his legs to keep the illusion that he was still running over ground, Nicholas floated to the opposite side of the ravine.

Convinced that her quarry was closer than ever, the wolf added an extra burst of speed and ran into nothingness. Nicholas watched as the wolf dropped out of sight into the deep gorge. He heard a yelp transform into a scream. With a twinge of regret, he peered over the side and saw the woman again, clinging to a branch several feet from the top but many more feet from the bottom.

"Will you let me help you?" Nicholas called down to her

Her answer came in the form of a string of what was most likely Gaelic curses. The branch began to splinter under the force of her weight. Upon hearing the first telltale cracks, the woman switched abruptly to English. "I am Patricia O'Leary," she yelled up to him. "Remember my name, ye foul thing! We will meet again!"

And she let go of the branch.

*********

"Has he ever done this before?" Javert asked his son.

"Once, in the car. I don't know. I think he needs to feed more often if he's going catatonic like that."

"Maybe you need to tell this coroner about it. Maybe she knows what it is."

Nick finally blinked again. The dossier long-since forgotten, Nick found himself staring at an 8-1/2 by 11 inch sheet of air.

Random playfully slapped his partner on the back. "Now, Nick, I know she was gorgeous, but really! What would Natalie think?" he exclaimed in mock horror.

Nick, as oblivious to humor as ever, simply said, "I thought she was dead."

"Natalie?"

"Patricia."

"You know her?!"

Nick nodded, "She tried to kill me. I thought I'd killed her, though."

"Nick, this is not good." Random always did have a gift for understatement.

"Indeed not," concurred Javert.

"Why? What's wrong?" Nick was beginning to worry.

There was an uncomfortable silence, the only sounds being Random and his father's steady, controlled breathing. Finally, Random spoke.

"Nick, she's been Turned. She has embraced the darker aspects of our abilities and been changed in the process. She's grown more powerful by reveling in her gifts. But the power corrupted her mind, Nick. She is evil." Random spoke the last three words with a slow, deliberate tone that radiated anxiety.

Nick thought for a moment before asking, "Is that what happened to the guy you told me about? The one that almost killed Erik and Twilight? Was he Turned?"

This time, the elder of the two Javerts responded. "Yes. But compared to O'Leary, he might as well be her kid brother. It took two werewolves and a vampire to take him down. For her, may I suggest a tank battalion?" The humor was dry and forced, and all those present knew it.

"But what about the murders?" Nick asked.

"I'd say it was a ploy to lure you to London," speculated the captain.

"You mean, she's studied my cases enough to know about this and then staged these murders... killed innocent people, just to settle a score with me?"

"Looks like it."

"Why not just come to Toronto?"

"Because," Random interjected, "Toronto is your battlefield. She's brought you here because this is hers."

"So, what do I do now?"

"Run like hell?" Random offered.

"You don't have to do a thing," Javert said, "Dealing with Turned wolves is something that our Community has to do to protect itself. If you can tell us where to find her, our pack will do the rest."

Nick shook his head. "But I don't know where she would be!"

"If she's like the other Turned wolves I've faced, she'd enjoy the irony of destroying you in the same place where you tried to kill her."

"The ravine... of course."

"Just tell us where, Nick."

"Captain..."

"Nick. I'm not doing this as a police captain. I'm doing this as a werewolf. We don't have Enforcers to handle these jobs for us; we have to handle the problem ourselves."

Nick sighed in resignation. "All right, but I'm coming, too. I have to face her; I can't just send a pack of wolves on her whilst I sit back in a comfy chair with a cup of Dar Geeling."

"Terms accepted. Let's go." Javert started toward the door, but stopped in midstride. He pulled his badge out of his pocket and looked at it for a moment. "And Nick," he said, "I'm not captain tonight. Call me Edouard."

Throwing the badge on his desk, Edouard left the office, with Nick and Random following close behind.

*********

"No. N - O; no! They've said they'll do it, Nick. If this woman is as powerful as they say, she'll..." Natalie couldn't bring herself to say 'kill you,' even though they both knew that's what she meant.

Back at the Javert estate, Nick and Natalie sat in the attic bedroom that Edouard had referred to as the Orgone Box. Edouard had brought Nick and Random back to the house to collect more of the pack, and to allow them all to speak with their significant others before they left... just in case.

"Nat, you know I can't just wait here. She did this because of me. She's hunted me for I don't know how long. I caused those people to be killed. I have to see it through."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that, 'it's my fault even though I had nothing to do with it and couldn't have known' bullshit, Nick. It won't work."

"The point is moot, Nat. I'm going. You can't stop me." Nick kissed Natalie on the cheek. His lips lingered on her skin for a tentative second as he fought a silent battle with himself. Finally, his decision made, Nick pressed his lips to Natalie's, drinking her in with his eyes. After what seemed forever, Nick pulled away and said three words to Natalie that he'd said countless times but never in this order: "I love you."

"Nick, I..." was all Natalie managed to reply before her voice cracked and she had to choke back the tears.

Nick stood up from the bed and kissed Natalie on the top of the head before walking out the door and downstairs to meet the others.

*********

Nick walked down the several flights of stairs toward the main hallway, all the while hearing bits of conversations much like the one he'd just had.

"Erik, please let me come, too."

"Random, if you need anything, call out"

"I love you, Neddy."

Finally, Nick was joined by Random, Edouard, Erik, a young man with pinkish hair whom he assumed to be Pinker, and a very large man who reminded Nick of Javert's quarry in Les Miserables, Jean Valjean.

"Very astute, Detective," the man said. "I am indeed Monsieur Valjean."

Nick decided to wait to ask him how Valjean and Javert wound up working on the same side after being at odds throughout the book.

With no further words, Edouard began to walk toward the back door. The other five fell in step behind him, Nick bringing up the rear. The six of them made their way through the woods behind Edouard's house until they came to a cave. The group filed into the cave, Nick all the while wondering what was going on.

The inside of the cave looked to be an improvised meeting room. A strangely shaped rock formation sat in the center, and it was around this that the five werewolves formed a circle. Random silently indicated to Nick to take up the sixth point in the circle, which Nick did without question. The circle joined hands. Nick suddenly became aware of the other minds in the room. They were as one; one mind, one spirit.

In his head, Nick heard Edouard speak, 'Now, Nicholas, show us where she is. Picture the place in your mind. Close your eyes and envision it as clearly as possible. Think of it as if you were drawing a map from here to there. Concentrate on the path you would follow.'

Nick closed his eyes and let his mind travel back to that night, to that place. He pictured himself lifting off the ground, flying out of the cave, northward, a few degree correction to the west, until he saw himself touching down on the edge of the very ravine he had left Patricia O'Leary for dead all those many years ago.

'Open your eyes, Nicholas,' Edouard's voice rang in his head. Nicholas slowly blinked open his eyes and almost broke the circle when he saw the bright light in the center of the circle, pouring over the rock formation and stretching up through an opening in the cave ceiling. He flinched backwards, but the hands gripping his held fast and wouldn't let him move. He followed the beam up with his eyes. It was like a beam of pure moonlight shining over them.

'The moon is the source of our power,' Random explained without words. 'She nurtures us, protects us, gives us our power. And now, she will lift us from this place and follow the path you traced in your mind, setting us down at our destination.'

'Let's hope he's good at giving directions,' a voice Nick had not heard before, but instantly knew was Pinker, chuckled. The comment sent peals of polite laughter across the mental link the six had forged.

Valjean spoke then. 'It is time, brothers.' The circle began to close until all six were immersed in the light.

Almost instantly, Nick felt the sensation of being lifted from the ground, but the light was so bright that he could see nothing else. After a few moments, though, Nick jerked reflexively downward, pulling against the werewolves on either side of him. Nick didn't know what was happening, he just knew that he had to be on the ground. Now.

'Nick, hang on. It's natural. The feeling will pass. As a vampire, you have an instinctive pull to the earth. Right now we are past Earth's atmosphere, so your body is trying to pull you back down. Soon, we'll "bounce" off Luna and return to the ground. Hold on just a few more seconds.' Nick didn't know who was speaking, but he did try to consciously cease his struggling. And, as the voice had said, Nick felt the motion reverse, pulling him back toward the ground. A few more seconds later, Nick stopped his convulsions altogether.

When the group felt solid ground under their feet again, they began to step backwards, still locked in a circle, until they were once again surrounding the beam and not inside it. The light faded until finally it vanished. Nick looked around. 'This is the place,' he said through the mental connection.

Nick felt Random release his hand, and then felt Erik do the same. Once again, he was aware of only his thoughts.

Nick looked around again, trying to get a better sense of the surroundings. All in all, he reasoned, nothing had changed much. Although the ravine seemed somehow wider, and something inside Nick told him it was probably also deeper. Turning back to the group, he noticed that the five gentlemen he had traveled with had become three wolves and two very large creatures with claws and teeth. He recognized one of the wolves as Random; he had seen him before. Random's coat was speckled with various shades of browns, black, white, and gold. The other two wolves had to be Edouard and Valjean, because Nick could tell the two man-wolves were Erik, because of the striking blue eyes, and Pinker, from the pink coat covering the other.

A twig snapped in the distance. In what seemed to Nick to be a blur, Erik and Pinker took up flank positions on either side of Nick; Valjean and Javert moved in front of Nick, in the gaps between Nick, Erik, and Pinker; and Random stood behind Nick in the point position. Whatever snapped that twig was definitely not getting to Nick. At least, not without a fight.

A voice assaulted Nick's mind with such force that he staggered back and almost tripped over Random. The voice was all-too familiar, and yet, changed. It sounded as if two voices were speaking simultaneously; one, a high, lilted, almost pleasant alto; the other, a deep, raspy, ominous baritone. The voice spoke two words in Nick's head, but those two words conveyed such a feeling of dread that all five werewolves around him smelled the fear in Nick's blood.

The words were, 'Welcome back.'

*********

The group looked up to face Patricia O'Leary who, save Nick, viewed her for the first time. In her current form, the half-wolf, she was not a pretty sight. Even Nick had trouble convincing himself this was the same person. She had changed for the worse. Her fur was burned or matted in places; her teeth were yellowed and dripping with saliva; one of her eyes had become bloodred while the other was colorless and seemed unable to focus on anything.

The most disheartening things about her appearance for Nick was that of the dozen other werewolves behind her, she was one of the better-looking ones. The more repulsive ones had open sores oozing a greenish yellow fluid, or horribly twisted appendages, and scars of every variety. Compared to them, Patricia could be a runner-up for prom queen.

She spoke again, aloud this time, but with the same dual quality to her voice. "I was wondering when you'd figure it out, du Brabant," she called to him across the hundred or so feet separating them. "I've waited for this for a hundred years!" She drew a two-handed bastardsword as if it were a wooden practice sword and screamed to her followers in Gaelic. Nick, now fluent in the language, recognized it as an ancient battle cry. The mass of fighters surged forward across the tree-filled expanse, while Patricia stood on her hilltop and shouted Gaelic profanities toward Nick and his troupe.

'Twelve of them... if we each take two...' Nick thought as he watched his adversaries close in, but a voice in his head cut him off.

'No, dawn's too soon. We'll handle these; you can fly over the battle and head for O'Leary.' Edouard was obviously used to being outnumbered, Nick reasoned, and therefore did not protest. He merely nodded and looked toward the fading starlight.

An instant later, he was standing behind Patricia. A moment after that, he was on his back staring up at the wrong end of a very large sword. "Too slow, de Brabant! Far too slow! I don't know how you tricked those others into helping you, but it doesn't matter now. I will cleanse this blight from Mother Earth forever!" Before Nick could react, the blade sliced into his left shoulder, burning like fire.

The thing that Patricia had become laughed sadistically. "Demonfire," she explained, "a useful trick for disposing of bloodsucking leeches like you!" Another swipe, and Nick's right shoulder was bleeding as well. Before Nick even felt the pain from his new injury, wounds opened up on both his thighs. Patricia was a blur to Nick, even with vampiric sight.

But a new blur began rushing up the hill out of the corner of Nick's vision. A blur he recognized as Random in wolfen form. But, remembering that Patricia could read his thoughts, he consciously tried to block the thought from his mind. He realized that it was too late when he saw Patricia turn and slash across Random's shoulder, causing him to yelp as the demon fire singed his fur.

And yet, Random had helped Nick by way of distraction. Nick found his opening and, ignoring the complaints of his injuries, ran forward, striking Patricia in the midsection with the accumulated strength of 767 years. And even though Nick was a good two feet smaller than her, Patricia nevertheless staggered backwards under the attack, stumbling so that she could not manage to bring the sword to bear on Nick. Nick continued to push her backwards until, tripping over a rock, she fell and rolled down the hilltop.

On a good night, Nick could have been to the bottom of that hill before Patricia had a chance to get up. However, this was far from a good night, and by the time Nick did manage to get to where Patricia was lying, she swung her leg around, knocking Nick to the ground as well. She used the impetus from her swing to pull herself up faster than Nick, and once again held the point of her sword mere inches from Nick's throat.

"Well, it's been great fun seeing you again, de Brabant, but the fun is over." Nick couldn't tell which was dripping from her words more, the saliva or the sarcasm.

Nick still had a card to play, though. "Tell me one thing," he pleaded, "why me?"

"Because you're the only bloodsucker who ever defeated me! Because you are a disease on the planet, and I, as Gaia's Avenger, must save her from this disease! Because you...." Her tirade ended in a howl of pain as Random's claws drove deep into her back. Nick had seen him coming up from behind, but never allowed himself to think about it, which would have given Patricia a clue.

Nick seized the opportunity afforded him by Random's distraction again. He kicked at Patricia's wrist; because she was now preoccupied with Random, her hands gave up the sword, sending it into a pile of brush several yards away. Nick shot like an arrow for the sword. Halfway there, though, he was struck by something very large behind him. And while it was in no way haphazard, it was most decidedly Random.

Random was quick, though, and rolled away from Nick almost before Nick knew what had hit him. He still had his head start on Patricia and beat her to the pile of brush containing the sword. Nick frantically grabbed at pine needles and thorn bushes, unaware of Patricia rushing up behind him. It was then that Patricia made her final mistake. She giggled.

Nick caught the sound of Patricia's sadistic giggle approaching behind him. An immeasurable amount of time later, Nick's fingertips found the hilt of the sword. Even as Patricia was diving for Nick, intent on ripping him to pieces with her bare, albeit clawed, hands, Nick was grabbing the handle of the sword and turning. And with one part skill and three parts luck, Nick thrust the sword into Patricia's heart as she dove.

She still landed on him. Nick realized she still had enough time left to tear his head off if she chose. But looking into her eyes, Nick saw that she spent her final moments trying to figure out what just happened. Nick forced her off of him, rolling her body to one side while he rolled the other. Nick saw a pool of black blood on her chest boiling away as it contacted the demon blade.

It was then that the first rays of sunlight struck him.

*********

Nick's eyes darted about, losing focus as the light continued to brighten. The pain from the sun's rays burning him of course concentrated on the areas that hurt already, namely his four wounds inflicted by Patricia's sword. He fell to his knees and began trying to dig into the ground, but the blood loss quickly caught up with him and he fell over, unable to move. After that, he must have begun to hallucinate, because he saw Random, once again in human form, pull a small signal mirror from his pocket and look into it. The surface of the mirror seemed to Nick to ripple like a puddle of water and Random was pulled into it, leaving the mirror to clatter on the forest floor. Before Nick had a chance to fully process what he had just seen, he felt a pull from somewhere; a pull with no source. And then he was sucked into nothing.

When Nick looked up again, Random was standing over him. He jumped when he realized he must still be in the sun, but... he wasn't in pain anymore. Even the wounds he already had didn't hurt. He looked around. He was still in the forest, but something was different. Something that Nick couldn't put his finger on. Then it came to him. It was silent. There were no sounds that one would normally associate with being in a forest. Even when Random walked over to him to help him up, his steps made no sounds as they crunched over dead leaves.

'What is this place?' Nick spoke without sound, but heard himself nevertheless.

'It has many names,' Random replied in Nick's mind. 'The best translation from the ancient Wolfen tongue is "The Path of Gaia." I believe most Native American tribes refer to it as the Spirit Walk.'

Nick nodded, feeling a twang of guilt over Marion Blackwing. 'I've heard of it.'

Random grunted knowingly, but said nothing. He motioned for Nick to follow him as he turned and walked down to where Nick had left the rest of the group. When they arrived, they saw Edouard, Jean, Erik, and Pinker still combating the band of Turned wolves. But from this side, the Turned wolves appeared to be octopoidal creatures with slick black skin and no eyes.

'These are the creatures that these wolves have become,' Random explained. 'What we see are merely echoes of them on the other side.'

Nick watched a few moments more as the echoes of his friends defeated the last of the echoes of their adversaries. Every time one of them was struck down, their image blurred and faded. Random told Nick that this was because only living creatures showed as images on the path. 'Wait here,' Random projected to Nick. Random then moved his arm in a circle. The space enclosed by that circle began to ripple again and Random stepped through, back into the 'real world.'

Nick watched as Random's image became less distinct as he pushed through and emerged on the other side of the portal, walked over to his packmates, and had a conversation Nick couldn't hear. A few moments later, the five of them suddenly became very distinct and clear. Nick realized that they had all stepped through using various reflective devices they had on their person.

'Travel on the path moves at the speed of thought,' Random said to Nick. Random took one of Nick's hands in his own, offering the other to his father. One by one, the six of them had once again formed a circle. 'You may want to close your eyes, Nick. This kind of travel is quite disorienting,' Random continued.

Nick did indeed close his eyes. Only a few seconds after he did, he felt a bump, like driving over a pothole. When he felt Random's hand leave his own, he opened his eyes and found himself back in the Javert home. Random led Nick up the four flights of stairs to the attic bedroom before helping Nick to step off the path and into reality.

As soon as Nick passed through the portal, his injuries began to complain again. Random looked at Nick with a raised eyebrow, then called a name. "Skye!"

A woman Nick had not seen before came walking into the room. The telltale nostril flaring at the scent of a vampire let Nick know that Skye was also a werewolf.

"Skye," Random began, "As you can see, Nick here is in pretty dire straits. He found himself on the wrong end of a demonfire blade." Turning to Nick, Random continued, "Nick, this is Skyedancer. We call her Skye. She'll try to heal up those cuts. Just be calm."

Nick nodded, but found himself with a twinge of anxiety as Skye placed one hand on Nick's forehead and the other just over the cut in his right shoulder. That twinge faded, though, as he felt the wound close and knit itself together. Skye did the same for the other three slashes in Nick's skin, and also healed the wound in Random's shoulder. Her work done, Skye turned and began to walk from the room.

"Thank you," Nick called after her. Skye merely turned and smiled before she left the room entirely. "What an odd woman," Nick remarked to Random.

"In what way?"

"Well, she didn't say anything, just walked in here, did what she did and left. She didn't even expect a thank you."

"Skye is a healer. She does what she has to do to heal her packmates. She cannot speak. It's part of her vow to Gaia upon becoming a healer. And no, she does not expect thanks. All she knows is that it is her duty to heal. Nothing else matters."

"Oh." was all Nick said in reply.

"I think I'll leave you to get some sleep. I'll see you tonight." Random moved toward the door.

"Where's Nat?"

"I think she was in the library talking to Mum."

"Would you ask her to come up here when she gets a moment, please?"

"Sure thing," Random replied and walked out the door toward the stairs.

Nick had barely laid back on the bed when Nat rushed in and, without a word, fell into his arms. For a minute at least, they just held each other. No words were necessary, they both understood.

"Can I lay with you today?" Nat asked, nuzzled against his chest.

Nick was about to remark about the danger before he recalled Twilight's words about how the love would keep the Beast at bay, and decided that if he truly loved Nat, it was worth a shot. "Yes."

*********

Nick opened his eyes right as the last of the sun set in the west. He looked over and saw his Beloved, alive and intact, still sleeping pressed against his body. And then he did something he hadn't done in a while.

He smiled.