Chapter 25
He'd showered and dressed with an unnatural speed, influenced by the newly recovered hope that lingered in his heart. Traffic was light, and the Caddy made the trip across town in record time.
Stopping the car in front of Natalie's apartment building, Nick sat quietly for a moment as he considered exactly what he was going to tell her. That he was staying wouldn't be difficult. She would be more than happy to hear it. A subtle smile curved his mouth. He looked forward to seeing the expression on her face when he told her. However, for some unfathomable reason, mentioning the catalyst for his decision seemed to be more difficult for him to contemplate. Should he confide in her the circumstance that had changed his mind? Of course, her steadfast belief and encouragement were a part of that circumstance. Knowing that she still had faith in him, in fact, had never lost faith in him, had helped to ease him toward the conclusion he'd reached tonight. As much as he'd tried to push her from his heart and mind, he had never once been remotely successful, her love for him a stubborn ember softly glowing in the bleak darkness of his despair, refusing to be extinguished, tempting him with the peace of its warm pledge. His gratitude for her unwavering support knew no bounds, and he would tell her so, but.... Did he need to tell her about the unseen member of her team, her partner in persuasion? Did she need to know about Elliot's visits?
The easy smile tightened as a sobering cynicism crept over his thoughts. A ghost. His guidance, his strength, had come from a ghost. The smile vanished altogether. Yet another supernatural happening to confide to Natalie, another finger of the paranormal reaching out and touching her through him. But she'd been privy to the experience once before with no help from him. Was that really what was bothering him about the prospect of telling her about Elliot?
The heat of a smoldering anger forced a foreboding shudder through Nick as he felt it creep across the connection he shared with his master, the warning tingle halting his contemplation in its tracks. LaCroix. The feeling was so intense it rooted Nick in place as it suddenly electrified his preternatural senses. His maker was close by, very close by, and he was furious. But more than furious, he was...desperate?
As a faint panic started to churn his gut, Nick bolted from the Caddy and ran toward the building, his eyes gravitating to the second floor. Frantically, his ears worked to block out the chorus of voices flowing from inside while he tried to zero in on one in particular.
"Nick doesn't belong to you, LaCroix." Natalie's voice registered clearly on Nick's hypersensitive hearing. A powerful relief shook him to the core as he recognized she was unharmed. "He belongs to himself and has the right to choose his own way." A heavy note of fear mingled with the defiance that colored the familiar sound.
With a barely controlled urgency, Nick pulled open the lobby door and bounded up the staircase, his own fear for Nat's safety threatening to snatch that necessary control from his grasp as he breezed by two mortals coming down the stairs.
The locked door handle gave way easily under his strength, and he quickly pushed his way into the apartment. What confronted him as he stood just inside the doorway sent a debilitating dread coursing through him. The picture was terrifyingly familiar as he saw LaCroix towering over Natalie, a menacing scowl on his master's face as the fearful anger continued to rush over their connection. The scene he'd interrupted on a certain unforgettable Valentine's Day flashed in his mind, and the same terror that had held him then, strangled him now.
With the forced entry, two pairs of eyes turned in his direction, one startled--relieved, one cool--unflinching. Nick met the cold, unwavering gaze with a hard determination, his voice low and deliberate. "If you touch her, you'll never see me again."
To LaCroix, the threat was worse than one of death. Nick knew it, but he couldn't seem to draw any comfort from the knowledge and the upper hand he was fairly certain it gave him. Instead, the panic only tightened its grip on him. The strong conviction he'd managed to inject into his voice surprised him, because even though he meant every word, confident was the last thing he felt at the moment. His guilt and fear were such that he could hardly hold on to anything other than the blame that had begun to eat away at him.
It was happening again, right before his eyes. A horrific history threatened to repeat itself. The very idea caused bitter bile to rise in his throat, the revulsion a physical sickness twisting his stomach. Once again, a mortal's life was at risk because of an association with him. But not just any mortal--Natalie. A life more precious to him than any that had touched him over the last eight centuries.
Nick's jaw tightened against the urge to cry out. Dear, God, no. Please.
Through the haze of numbing apprehension fogging his mind, Nick tried to concentrate unrelenting eyes on LaCroix, silently warning him away from Natalie, quietly giving more force to his words. He watched a dull surprise register on the elder's face as he felt a fresh, forceful wave of that perplexing fear move over their bond, the anger seemingly forgotten for a moment as their eyes steadily held one another's.
"She weakens you, Nicholas." LaCroix broke the deafening stillness, his tone tainted with a note of pleading, a faint request for sanity. "Can't you see that?" A touch of disappointment joined the appeal in his voice. "She saps your strength with promises of a future that will never be. She's holding you back, fostering more doubt."
"No." Nick's hard gaze shifted to Natalie's face as he spoke, reverent gratitude echoing in his words while a reassuring smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "She's my...friend. She strengthens me, gives me hope. I won't have that taken away from me again, LaCroix." He trained granite features back on his father, his voice once more reflecting the harshness. "Leave her alone."
"Don't, Nicholas." As he spoke, frustration dominated the feelings flowing from LaCroix, a growing impatience also apparent in the low sigh that escaped him before he continued. "Don't let the weakness overtake you." Sadly, LaCroix shook his head as he turned to face Nick and shorten the distance between them by a few steps. "You're well on your way back to where you belong. The journey is almost finished. The path is clear, save for one small obstacle. Don't allow yourself to be swayed from that path. Don't get lost again, Nicholas."
"Lost?" The word left Nick in the form of an incredulous sneer. "I've been lost. I'm not anymore. I've come back to myself, my true self."
The hurt ran deep, the pain excruciating, the sadness profound. Nick fought hard not to be affected by the raw emotion that flowed from his master, the sudden barrage nearly drawing a moan of sympathy from him. His words of rejection had hit LaCroix hard, and he should have felt some sort of satisfaction from the effect. He wanted to, but it wouldn't quite come, not as strongly as he thought it should, anyway. No matter what LaCroix had done, or threatened to do, there would always be a part of Nick that sympathized with his maker, there would always be a part of him that held a compassion, a...love for his father. That part now ached for the desperate anguish that quietly tormented LaCroix.
"No, Nicholas." The penetrating misery stained LaCroix's tone. "You're simply revisiting a lie, a fantasy. Holding a hope for the hopeless. Blindly nurturing future pain with this present folly. This pathetic veneer of humanity that you wear is a flimsy cover for your true self. Will you never learn? Mortality...humanity is beyond your reach. Accept it and move on."
"I can't. Not now. Not after--" Nick stopped short. Telling LaCroix of his promise to Elliot was not an option. Straightening his shoulders, he pushed his conviction back to the surface. "I have to keep trying. If there's the smallest chance, I have to keep trying."
"Chance?" The intolerant anger found its way back into LaCroix's voice. "A chance for what, Nicholas? More disappointment? More sorrow? That's all that awaits you at the end of this useless trek. You know it as well as I do." His eyes moved back to Natalie, the distaste boldly evident in his expression as they traveled over her profile, her sights still trained on Nick. "And what of the desire to protect the mortals around you? Have you changed your mind about that, too? The good doctor's safety has been compromised because of you. Has it not?" The smugness in his tone translated into the challenging gleam that entered his eyes as he looked to Nick once again.
Yes. The inner voice quietly scoffed, confirming a truth, a fear, Nick could not avoid. Nat's security had been jeopardized many times before because of her closeness to him, as it was now. He had recognized it the second he'd entered the apartment to find his father looming over her. She was at LaCroix's mercy because she was a part of his life. It wasn't worth the uncertainty of the future, was it? It wasn't worth keeping his promise to Elliot if it meant sacrificing Natalie. Nothing was worth that. Nothing.
"No." Natalie's solid denial broke through the doubt and blame that pummeled Nick's mind, his attention leaving his master's face to settle on the determined expression on Nat's. Her mouth was set in a stubborn line of rejection as she steadily moved her head from side to side, but the eyes that captured his held no rejection, no rebuff. They were filled with encouragement and a fierce will to be believed. "If my safety has been compromised in any way, it has nothing to do with Nick." Her eyes returned to LaCroix. "You are the one responsible for whatever happens here tonight. Only you."
Nick's next breath caught in his throat as he watched his master's eyebrows rise with the vehement accusation, the surprise clearly visible on his face as he, too, turned his attention back to Natalie. Anger was the next thing Nick expected to see, and the muscles throughout his body drew taut in preparation for action should LaCroix lose control. However, he was pleasantly disappointed when next he saw a composed amusement lift his father's mouth, a note of delicate condescension finding its way into Lucien's calm voice. "But it is your connection to Nicholas that has brought you here, Doctor Lambert. Can you deny it?"
"Yes." The answer was quick, sharp. "I can deny it very easily." Natalie's heart fluttered in her chest with the rapid pace of a hummingbird's wing, but a defying confidence shone brightly in the eyes that resolutely considered LaCroix. "Your possessiveness has put me here. But even that doesn't matter. What matters is...I'm here by choice. I chose to be a part of Nick's life, and I walked into this with my eyes wide open. I wasn't tricked. I wasn't coerced." A short bark of impatient laughter left her. "I've been warned away more times than I can count, but I've made the choice to stay. No." She shook her head. "The consequence of that decision is mine, and mine alone. I don't, nor will I ever, blame Nick for what happens to me as a result of my judgement. I will never regret having him in my life, and I'll fight with all I've got to keep him here."
"But he doesn't belong in your life, Doctor. It's high time you realized that, time you accepted it." Anger once again filtered into LaCroix's features, a hard frown creasing his brow. "Nicholas' place is with his own kind. I made him. He belongs with me."
"No, LaCroix." The challenge continued to ring in Nat's tone. "You transformed him. You took a man and changed him into something beyond mortal." A cynical grin turned her mouth. "Something better than mortal? But even after 800 years the metamorphosis isn't complete, is it? There's still a human part of him that you will never be able to claim, a part of his heart...his soul that will forever be out of your reach. When Elliot died, Nick lost sight of that part of himself, but he's found it again." Her eyes traveled to Nick's face, a brilliant happiness sparkling in the blue depths as she appeared to already know, even though he hadn't actually said the words, that he had decided to stay. "He's found it again." The repeated sentence sounded like the whispered answer to a long begged-for prayer.
Unexpectedly, the fearful tension that held Nick captive disappeared, Natalie's sudden, forceful contentment contagious as it gently wiped away the guilt, softly obscured the dread. He allowed himself to bask in the joy he sensed in her as she continued to slowly caress his face with loving eyes, cherishing the fact that he was responsible for her serenity. It wasn't often he had this privilege, and he was going to savor it for as long as he could.
Standing quietly in the glow of her euphoria, he considered all the things she had said to LaCroix, and was once again astounded by her steadfast courage. Through the fear that he knew gripped her, she had stood up to his master, telling him things she knew he wouldn't want to hear, words of truth that worked to undermine his control over Nick. Her unfaltering support helped to banish his reawakening fear and doubt, and gave further strength to his hope. She was his saving grace, and he relished his ability to make her happy.
It wasn't long, however, before he felt his master's rage roll across their bond, violently shattering the blissful moment. His attention darted back to LaCroix in time to see tight fists form at his father's sides, the anger growing stronger, stoked by an intense fear of defeat, fed by a cavernous sense of disappointing loss.
Again, LaCroix's immeasurable pain tugged at Nick's heart, but he worked to ignore the empathy that threatened to sabotage his resolve. Natalie's safety was his only concern. No matter what it took, he wouldn't permit anything or anyone to harm her.
LaCroix took one furiously determined step toward Natalie, and in the blink of an eye, Nick moved between them, shielding her from his father's wrath. Looking up into his maker's cold gaze, he willfully confronted the rage. "No, LaCroix. You won't touch her. I won't allow it. Besides, it won't get you what you want. I meant what I said. If you harm her, one way or another, you will never see me again."
Locking stony, defiant eyes with LaCroix, Nick felt the battle of decision waging inside his maker. That he took Nick's threat seriously there could be little doubt, his troubled hesitation more than adequate proof. Anger, frustration, disappointment, sadness, pain and...fear. They tumbled over the connection with the force of a tidal wave, LaCroix's normally restrained emotions once again running freely. Silently, Nick braced himself against the disturbing flood, trying to survive the onslaught with his determination intact. Survive it he did, and after a few intense moments, his father seemed to get a firmer grip on his telling emotions. In the end, all Nick could feel was the agonizing pain of loss and a deep anxiety for the future, and a sliver of unrepentant compassion worked its way into his heart.
"Very well, Nicholas." LaCroix's sigh of defeat was accompanied by a very faint bow of the head. "You appear to have made up your mind. You're making a grave mistake, of course, but there seems to be little I can do about it at the moment. Nothing has changed. The inevitable has only been delayed." Taking a few steps back, LaCroix put some breathing room between himself and Nick, his hands hanging limply at his sides. "But remember this, Nicholas. When this--" lifting a hand in the air, he motioned to nothing particular in the room as a thick note of disgust entered his voice, "farce once and for all comes crashing down around you, I will be here. I will always be here." With that ominous promise, LaCroix vanished from sight.
Nick stood statue still in the aftermath of the confrontation as a fierce relief threatened to siphon what little strength remained in his limbs. Closing his eyes, he took a shaky, deep breath, a silent prayer of thanks running through his head. The fear, however, proved all too stubborn as it quickly usurped the momentary gratification, and he confronted the closeness with which he'd avoided yet another disaster, a disaster of his own making.
"Nick?" Natalie's soft voice sounded from behind him, pulling him from the pit of self-condemnation into which he had started to sink. She was all right, unharmed, safe. He had seen to that. This time, he had stopped a tragedy. He searched for the satisfaction he expected to feel from the success, but couldn't find it. After all, he was the reason she had been in danger in the first place.
Opening his eyes, he slowly turned around. She stood at the end of the sofa, a weak smile hovering on her lips as a concerned uncertainty lingered in her eyes. Her heart continued to beat loudly in his ears, but its exaggerated pace had begun to slow.
The sight of her beloved face, flush with life, and the sound of her strong heart should have been enough to reassure Nick that she was indeed all right, but somehow they weren't enough. He needed more. He needed...he wanted the reassurance of touch. He had to feel her warmth against him before he would gain any true solace. Without a word, he quickly closed the gap between them and pulled Natalie to him, his arms moving around her shoulders. His need was fulfilled when he felt her return the embrace, her arms sliding around his waist and squeezing him tight, their penetrating heat just what he craved to grant him peace. With her head resting on his chest, Nick placed a light kiss in her hair before laying his cheek against the chestnut softness. No words passed between them. None were needed. The comfort they found in one another didn't require speech. For now, the contact was enough, the simplicity of a gentle embrace providing all the tranquility they required.
They held on to one another for several long minutes before Natalie raised her head and looked into Nick's face. The love and gratitude he witnessed in her tender expression were nearly his undoing, the sting of tears suddenly burning his eyes. As he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, an icy finger skirted down his spine. What would he have done if he'd lost her tonight? The horrifying question darted through his mind as his eternal love for her tightened its hold on his heart. The repulsive thought was almost more than he could tolerate, but it had come so close to realization that its consideration was unavoidable. What would he have done? It was the exact same question he'd asked himself on that terrifying Valentine's Day, and again, the answer was the same. He would have died, of course.
"Don't, Nick." A worried frown darkened Nat's face as she broke the contented silence that surrounded them. "Please, don't...not now. What happened...what almost happened tonight, wasn't your fault." Pulling an arm from around his waist, she lifted a soothing hand to his cheek. "Please, don't blame yourself."
His eyes fluttered shut as he relished the silky warmth of her caress. The guilt, however, refused to release him. But even so, as he looked back into her lovely face, he couldn't stop himself from leaning into her gentle touch, his need for the contact stronger than the self-reproach that told him to pull away. "I'm so sorry, Nat. So very sorry."
"No, Nick...don't. I meant every word I said to LaCroix. The threat came from him. He, and he alone, is responsible for what he does. I won't let you punish yourself again for something that wasn't your fault."
The consoling words might as well have fallen on deaf ears as the growing self-condemnation rejected their precious message. Reaching up, Nick removed Natalie's hand from his cheek. He looked at the small hand resting in his and a renewed fear seized him. So fragile, so delicate, so vulnerable. His eyes moved back to her face as a slow sigh of defeat passed his lips. "But if it weren't for me--"
"If it weren't for you," Natalie cut him off in mid-sentence, a kind determination echoing in her soft voice, "I'd be missing something in my life, something...someone very important. What we have...friendship is something to be cherished, Nick. And I do...very much. I would never regret it, and I will never regret you. Please, believe that."
The words held a meaning far deeper than either one of them was prepared to acknowledge openly, but Nick understood it, nonetheless. Not only did he hear it, he saw it, plainly, brightly shining in her eyes. The love was so strong, so vibrant, he couldn't help but be affected by it. Without another thought, he lowered his head and captured her lips with his.
It was easy, so very easy, to give himself over to the velvety warmth that welcomed his touch. Slowly, he caressed her satiny mouth, his lips relishing the heated softness as they silently begged for more intimate contact. With a gentle moan of surrender, his request was accepted, and she allowed him to taste the forbidden sweetness that lay within. Greedily, he explored the enticing flesh, drinking deeply of the silky ambrosia, letting it calm his restless soul and soothe his troubled mind. But, as always, he couldn't seem to get enough, couldn't get close enough. With a frustrated groan, he moved the arm that remained around her shoulders so that his hand feathered through the downy tresses at the back of her head, drawing her nearer. As he did so, another moan rose from Nat as her exploration of him grew more urgent. Her need, her hunger, all but rivaled his, the arm around his waist tightening its hold, pulling him closer while her mouth gorged on his with an almost desperate need for fulfillment.
He barely heard her whimper of protest when finally he released the temptation of her lips, his desire to experience more of her clouding his otherwise keen senses. The flawless complexion of her cheek was his next target as his mouth traveled over the inviting smoothness, dropping light kisses as it moved. Her jaw briefly received his attention before it was usurped by the shell-like perfection of her ear. A moan of pure pleasure escaped her as he drew the lobe into his mouth and gently suckled. The taste of her skin was more intoxicating than any wine he'd ever drunk, and he was slowly losing himself in the heady sensation, the warning bell a dull sound somewhere very far away in the back of his head. Another feather-light kiss and his delicate assault delved lower still. The satin column of her neck called to him, and he had no will to deny the summons. His lips casually savored the warm softness as they brushed along the alluring flesh, finally stopping at the base of her throat just above the source of life that beat rapidly under the fragile protection of her skin. As his tongue passed his parted lips to sample the inviting pulse, it brushed again his canines, now unnaturally sharp with the hunger that throbbed through his body. Almost without his knowing it, the beast had surged to the surface, stealing his composure, endangering Natalie.
The horror of what he'd almost done sobered Nick faster than anything else in the world possible could have, the raw need taking a back seat to the shame that quickly overtook him. Raising his head slightly, he severed the sensual contact with Nat and closed his eyes as he concentrated on pushing the vampire back beneath the surface. Unsuccessfully, he worked to block out the music of her heart as it brutally pounded her desire in his ears, keeping the lure of his hunger agonizingly close. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. His fangs had retreated back into their hiding place, and he knew the color of his eyes had once again returned to normal. He had control of himself again, if only by the smallest of measures. He'd won another small battle. The same battle he would have to continue to win if he were to keep his promise to Elliot and stay and work toward his redemption.
Moving his hands to Natalie's upper arms, Nick gently pushed her away from him, keeping her at arm's length, but finding it difficult to completely break their connection. His gaze fell first to her mouth, still swollen from his kiss, before moving up to collide with her eyes. The passion continued to smolder in the shimmering depths, along with the love, but these emotions were joined by something more, something deeper. There was an understanding hovering there, and a deep regard--an understanding of his struggle and a healthy respect for his discipline. It was as if she knew of the silent conflict he'd just been through and was telling him that it didn't matter, that she nonetheless trusted him, that she didn't fear him. And as he gleaned this cherished information from her loving gaze, he felt his love for her grow stronger.
Amazed, he watched a tender smile cross her beautifully flushed face as she ventured to speak, her voice still husky with the lingering passion that brightened her eyes. "You do believe me, don't you?"
"Yes, Nat." Nick, surprisingly, felt himself grin. "I believe you. I believe that you regret having me in your life no more than I regret having you in mine."
Her smile widened with the confession, and Nick felt his grin grow bigger too, in spite of himself. "Good." Rising up on her toes, she planted a quick kiss on his cheek before stepping a couple of steps away from him. Reluctantly, he let her go.
With her arms crossed over her chest, she regarded him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "So...was there anything you wanted to tell me? Something about Nicholas Knight, maybe? Something about his life here in Toronto?"
"Well," Nick stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat as he playfully hesitated, his attention falling to the floor as he feigned a bad memory, "it seems there was something I had on my mind, but I can't quite put my finger on it just now. Hmm...I think it had something to do with...ah.... Oh yeah, he's decided to stick around for a while. What do you think?" Lifting his head, he pinned her with a serious, almost pleading, stare. "Will that be okay?"
Natalie's eyes never left Nick's as she dropped her arms from her chest and walked back over to him. Stopping less than a body's width from him, she slid two tender fingers down his cheek before they came to rest under his chin. "That will be more than okay, Mister Knight. Welcome back."
Her touch sent another bolt of awareness shooting through him, and Nick tried to stifle the need it reawakened. Two close calls in one night were more than enough. He wouldn't risk another one. It took more strength than he thought he had to beat down the instinct to pull her back into his arms. But beat it down he did.
"When did it happen, Nick?" Natalie's voice softened to just above a whisper as she asked the question. "How did it happen? Please, tell me. I really want to know."
As he looked into her lovely face, Nick knew he wouldn't be able to deny her request. It was the very least he could do to thank her for her steadfast support and encouragement, and it still wouldn't be anywhere near enough. It would, however, be difficult to confide to her his weakness--his inability to find the strength on his own to combat the demons that had held him so securely. But he would tell her. He would tell her about Elliot and his visits, and the hope that he'd gained from them. He would even tell her of the crucial part she played in his recovery, and try, somehow, to let her know of the gratitude he held for her unbelievable courage. He would try.
"I want to tell you, Nat. I will tell you. But...it's getting late, and we're both going to be late for work if we don't get a move on." Nick motioned toward the darkness that peeked in at them through her picture window.
"All right, you win...for now." Natalie dropped her hand from his face, her expression one of impish warning. "But I expect a full report sometime tonight."
Her cheerful voice delighted Nick's ears much like the delicate jingle of wind chimes being caressed by a gentle summer breeze, the enchanting sound giving him pause. It was beautiful. She was beautiful. He loved seeing her like this. But.... How frail were moments like this? How fleeting? As he looked into her carefree face, an unwanted twinge of fear burrowed its way back into his mind. How long would this last? How long before his nature took from her the joy she relished tonight? LaCroix. The name intruded on his thoughts with a vengeance. Was he right? Would this all come crashing down around him? It wouldn't be the first time. A sudden panic hit Nick as he thought about the necessity of leaving Natalie alone, unprotected. He was sure he'd gotten through to LaCroix, convinced him of the futility of harming her. His father would not be returning. He was certain of it, but the panic didn't seem to want to let him go.
Damn. Silently, he cursed its hold on him. He wouldn't let Natalie see it, not tonight. With that thought in mind, he forced another smile to his lips.
"I promise." Leaning forward, Nick placed a hasty kiss on her forehead. Turning, he walked to the door, but before stepping through it, he cast her another glance. "Would you mind letting Reese and Tracy know that I'm going to be a little late?"
"Late?" A puzzled frown turned her mouth. "But you just said--"
"I know. I just don't want you to be late. I've got a couple of places I need to stop by before I get to work." He raised his eyebrows in another silent request.
"Okay, I'll tell them."
"Oh, and Nat? When I see you later...for lunch? How about one of those protein drinks? You think you can have one ready for me?"
The smile on her face was bright enough to light up the whole city of Toronto, and Nick felt it warm his heart. It felt incredibly good.
Nodding her head, Natalie all but giggled her reply. "Oh, I think I can manage that. Don't you worry about a thing."
With that happy guarantee, Nick left to face the other hurdles he needed to overcome before his return could be complete.
He stared down at the cold stone, feeling overwhelmed and confused.
ELLIOT EDWARD SIMMONS
BELOVED SON
NOV. 23, 199O NOV. 27, 1996
A life that all too briefly brightened our existence now shines brilliantly in heaven.
The words on the tombstone blurred as tears filled his eyes, the pain and guilt reasserting themselves as the bleak finality of the scene before him rammed into his heart. He had to do this, no matter how much it hurt. He had to. This was one of the hurdles he had to overcome, one of the bitter realities he had to face. He'd gotten through the other one, somehow. He would get through this one.
Jacob and Elizabeth had been very happy to see him tonight. They had also been very understanding. In his eyes too understanding. He'd asked their forgiveness for his neglect of them. They said they understood. He'd asked their forgiveness for his neglect of Elliot's funeral. They said they understood. Again, he'd asked their forgiveness for his inability to prevent the tragedy. Again, they told him it wasn't his fault. And as before, he watched the raw pain have its way with them. And as before, the shame and guilt had their way with him. Friends comforted friends, and he left them with no less a burden on his soul, but with a sense that he had, nevertheless, done them some good. He was their friend. He acted like their friend. And through the blame that continued to haunt him, he gained the reward of that friendship, their comfort, in turn, providing him a small degree of solace.
Raising a hand to his face, Nick caught a stray tear that escaped his eye, his vision clearing some with the loss. He re-read the carving on the stone. 'A life that all too briefly brightened our existence now shines brilliantly in heaven.' '...now shines brilliantly in heaven.' It was true. Nick knew it for certain. There was no doubt. But the knowledge didn't make being here any easier. It still hurt like hell, standing over his young friend's grave, once again, confronting the cold truth of his death, feeling the icy void of his loss. But Elliot was in heaven. Elliot was happy. And the certainty of it helped to ease the pain, a bit. But more than the assurance of Elliot's contentment, there was his love and forgiveness. Both continued to thrive in Nick's heart, and they were what made standing in this place possible, bearable.
Kneeling down beside the recently churned earth, Nick reached out to touch a word on the tombstone. 'Heaven'. Would he ever find the absolution needed to gain entrance? For that matter, would he even be able to find his way back to the light? Or would he get lost on the way? Antonio flashed through his mind. Even at death, Tony hadn't gone to the light. His essence, his soul, had somehow survived to find refuge in another body, to take a human life and draw it into the darkness. His evil had prevailed, and another vampire had been born. An unsettling chill ran down Nick's back. Antonio had said it happened to many. It hadn't happened to Nick. But would it happen to him? Could it? It was a question he wished he'd asked Elliot, but he got the impression, even if the boy had known the answer, he wouldn't have confided it to Nick. This was another one of those strengthening uncertainties that he would have to work through on his own. The possibility scared him to death.
With an exhausted sigh, Nick straightened, wiping away the wetness that stained his eyes. "I love you, little man. I miss you." The choked whisper threatened to bring the moisture back to his eyes, but he quickly swallowed the impulse as he turned and started toward the Caddy.
As he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his long, black coat, he took a deep breath. These last few weeks had been some of the most agonizing of his long memory. Had they served any real purpose? Could he salvage anything from the torture?
"If it doesn't kill you, it'll make you stronger." He recalled his words to Nat as they sat consoling one another after the capture of the monster who had prayed on the homeless with a flame thrower. Perhaps he had grown a little stronger with this experience. He didn't know for certain. Only time would tell, he supposed. But in the end, nothing had really changed, because, after all, there still remained the question of his soul.
The End
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