Chapter 5
Nick closed the bedroom door behind him and paused as he turned to go downstairs, the tug on his thoughts stopping his movement. This time he didn't fight the call. He was so tired. Closing his eyes, he relaxed and allowed the communication. LaCroix. The concern was identifiable, along with the frustration. Nick also felt the encouragement and thought to himself, You'll never understand. He opened his eyes as he whispered, "Or perhaps you understand more than I want to admit." His gaze dropped to the door of the elevator as it slid open, and Natalie walked into the loft.
She took the bag she was carrying to the kitchen table and glanced around for any signs of life. "Anybody home?" She shrugged out of her coat and draped it over the back of a chair.
Abandoning the connection with his master, Nick pushed aside his dissenting thoughts and continued toward the top of the staircase. "Yeah, Nat. Hi." He moved the flute behind his back and started down the stairs.
Natalie looked up to see him reach the bottom step and walk into the kitchen. The fatigue she noticed earlier at the morgue was etched a little deeper on his face. She wouldn't stay long. He, like herself, needed some rest. As he approached, she noted that something else lurked on the handsome face and in the haunted eyes. Shame? Sorrow? Defeat? She couldn't be sure. And before she had a chance to decide what the feeling was, the expression slipped away to be replaced by a tenuous smile. The look had only been there for an instant, but it worried her. Looks like that, no matter how fleeting, worried her more than usual these days. Something was bothering him. Her questions about the occurrence earlier that morning ran through her head.
No. She didn't believe that Nick had anything to do with what came over her this morning. Anything other than being the man she loved and desired at any rate.
As she continued to search his face, Natalie looked through the grin and saw the sadness that still lingered in his eyes. The need to comfort him struck her hard, but she couldn't help him if she didn't know what troubled him. She hesitated a moment, uncertain as to his reaction, but then forged ahead. "Nick, is something wrong?"
Her question obviously took him by surprise. She watched as the smile disappeared, and his gaze fell to the floor. Uneasiness quickly crossed his face before he masked his features. Slowly shaking his head, he raised his eyes to her again. "Wrong?" He faltered a moment, as if picking his words, and then continued. "I'm fine, Nat. Things...are fine. Just a little tired I guess."
The smile he forced back to his lips did little to reassure her. He was not 'fine'. Natalie felt a stab of disappointment and hurt at his unwillingness to confide in her. Irritation crept into her voice in spite of her effort to keep it out. "Okay. You don't want to talk about it. So what else is new?"
She paused and took a deep breath. Sometimes he frustrated her beyond distraction. After all they had been through together and in spite of the feelings they shared for one another, he still couldn't bring himself to completely open up to her, and the fact wounded her deeply. It also served as an unpleasant reminder of just how little she really knew about him, and how great the distance between them still remained. Over the years he had confided much to her, but she wasn't naive enough not to know that there were still a great many things he kept to himself. The vampire, its history and influence, stood between them. Sometimes the chasm seemed unbridgeable, and sometimes it seemed not to exist at all--well almost. What was it that he felt he couldn't talk to her about? Was it fear that accompanied the sadness in his eyes?
Nick made no move to respond. As she stared back into his solemn face, Natalie felt some of the hurt and exasperation drain away. She didn't want to be angry with him. With all he had been through lately, he didn't need her anger, he needed her patience and understanding. He needed her support. An encouraging smile curved her mouth as she offered that support. "Nick...." Stepping forward, she cupped a gentle hand on his cheek. "Know that I'm here for you whenever you need me, if you'll let me. Never forget that."
Nick's eyes never left hers as he reached up and took the soothing hand from his face, wrapping it in his own. His expression was filled with such thankful tenderness that Natalie felt the remainder of the hurt leave her. A loving warmth took its place, and she gave herself up to the contentment the warmth provided.
That contentment was short-lived, however, as, after only a few seconds, she watched the tenderness fade into sadness and...confusion? as Nick finally spoke. "Nat, I'm so sorry. But I can't...." His words trailed off into silence, but he recovered quickly, his voice quiet with reverence as he accepted her words. "I know, Nat. And it means more to me than you'll ever know. I.... Thank you." He brought her hand to his lips.
The contact of his cool mouth had an effect similar to the one she experienced earlier in the day. Natalie closed her eyes as the tingle ran through her. When Nick's lips left the back of her hand, she looked up into his brooding eyes. She wished with all her heart that he would unburden himself, but she knew better than to push too hard. "All right, Nick. I'll let it go for now. When you're ready to talk to me, you will. Right?" He nodded an agreement and reluctantly released her hand.
Nat turned her attention to the arm that rested behind his back and smiled. She leaned her head to one side in a playful attempt to steal a look at what he held in his hand. "Is that the 'great' gift?"
He returned the smile and presented the flute for her inspection.
Her eyes widened with surprise and delight when she beheld the beautifully carved and painted piece of wood. An inquisitive hand reached out to touch the antique instrument. "Oh, Nick. It's wonderful."
She gingerly took the flute from him and examined it more closely. She guessed it to be about ten inches long and not much more than a half an inch in diameter. The carving was intricate and delicate. Thin vines, with their leaves and small blue flowers, twisted around the flute and wove in and out of the areas between the holes on the topside of the wood. Four yellow birds perched on various parts of the vine between the bell-shaped flowers. A sun, with its bright rays, shown down on the other occupants of the instrument from a place just below the mouthpiece. The passage of time had faded and muted what were once, she was sure, vibrant colors, but it was still an impressive sight. She also noted the light-colored wood from which the flute was carved, but couldn't tell what kind it was.
Natalie lifted her gaze back to Nick. She remembered the swan harp and knew the flute also had to have some kind of a history. She wanted to hear the story. "It's truly beautiful, Nick. Did you carve it?"
Shaking his head, he put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "No. It was made for me by a friend about 300 years ago." He paused as the gleam of a distant, happy memory flashed in his eye.
Nat waited for him to continue, but he was lost in the past, and she knew she would have to coax him back before she would hear anything further. Reaching out with the flute, she gently poked him in the ribs. The glazed look disappeared, and he smiled down at the impatient expression on her face. Anticipation echoed in her voice as she encouraged him to tell her more. "Well?"
His smile turned into a mischievous grin. "Well what?"
Natalie rolled her eyes in frustration. He knew very well what. "Well.... I'm curious, Nick. Just like the harp and Erica's doll, the flute and its story serve as a window to the past...your past. I'm eager to get a glimpse whenever the opportunity presents itself. Tell me how this lovely instrument found its way into your life."
The playful smirk once again became a warm smile before he turned and walked into the living room. Stopping in front of the fireplace, he turned back to face her. "There isn't really much to tell, Nat. Philip carved it for me as a thank-you gift."
Following him into the living room, she prompted again, "Philip? Thank-you gift?"
Nick elaborated as Natalie took a seat on the couch. "Philip Bass. He owned a modest shoe shop in London." Nick's eyes left his guest to look...nowhere, really. He stared over her head, but she knew from his expression that he wasn't seeing anything in the loft. He saw his friend. The image appeared to stay with him only a few seconds as his sights rested once again on her face. He motioned toward the flute in her hand. "As you can see, he was a very talented craftsman. Being a cobbler was his livelihood, but music was his love. He played his creations as beautifully as he carved them. He wasn't a bad teacher, either. Michael, his grandson, was an excellent student. At only eight years of age, he showed a genius for the instrument. Philip was incredibly proud of him. He was a source of great joy for the old gentleman, in both his musical talent and his willingness to help with the shop."
"Michael worked with his grandfather?" Natalie's question broke another short silence.
Some of the happy countenance faded from Nick's face as he nodded. "He lived and worked with his grandfather. Philip's son and daughter-in-law had been killed about a year before I met him. He became the boy's guardian."
A pang of sorrow twisted Nat's heart. The scenario hit very close to home, and sympathy permeated her words. "Sad. How sad."
The vampire agreed. "Yes. But the depth of love and closeness Philip and Michael shared gave them the strength and support to survive the tragedy and go on with their lives. So, in that respect, they were very lucky."
Nat's sorrow turned to pain as she thought of her grandmother. She had forgiven Nana, but she would not, could not, forget the agony of the time spent in the older woman's care. Natalie's gaze had dropped from Nick to the flute, and she looked up again as she discarded the unpleasant recollection. "Love and closeness make a powerful combination. You're right. They were...very lucky."
"Nat? Are you okay?" Nick took a step closer to her in his concern.
She realized he must have read the sadness in her face. She nodded as she tried to reassure him she was fine. "Yeah. I'm okay. I just hate to hear about kids losing their parents, even if they did live 300 years ago." She forced a tight smile. "Don't stop now. Tell me more."
Nick bowed his head in a gesture of compliance. "I was a patron of Philip's shop. I'd seen him working on a flute and admired his handiwork. We became friendly, and one evening he invited me for dinner. I declined the meal, of course, but told him I would stop by later in the evening. That night I was treated to beautiful music and pleasant conversation. But the serenity of the evening ended very abruptly when Michael stepped out into the shop to retrieve an extra lantern. He'd only been gone for a moment when I became aware of the presence of another mortal in the building. Then, Philip and I both heard a short, muffled struggle, and he grabbed a lantern and rushed out into the shop before I could stop him."
"Oh, no." The soft expression of anxiety escaped Natalie as she leaned forward slightly in her seat. She hadn't been aware that she'd said anything until she realized Nick had once again stopped his narration. She barely heard his whispered "Gentle heart," as she watched the tender, understanding smile cross his lips. She felt her heart flutter with a combination of feeling for him and a touch of embarrassment for herself. Her subtle outburst had been impulsive. A characteristic that denoted a lack of control and made her uncomfortable. Her eyes moved from Nick's sensitive look to concentrate on the third button of his shirt. A thorough examination only took a couple of seconds, and she returned her gaze to his face as he continued.
"I followed Philip to discover an intruder in the store holding a knife to young Michael's throat. The old man barged ahead and garnered the trespasser's attention while I stayed back and sneaked around behind the would-be robber to end his awkward burglary attempt. Philip was overjoyed and extremely grateful for his grandson's safety and showed me his gratitude in the best way he knew. He crafted the beautiful instrument you hold in your hands."
Despite the fact she knew things had to turn out happily, Nat had gotten caught up in the brief tale and felt relieved as Nick told her the boy and his grandfather had made it through the experience unscathed. Her attention was drawn back to the object in her lap and a satisfied sigh escaped her. The mortals had survived thanks to the tortured vampire standing before her.
Nick walked over to stand by Natalie and stared down at the flute. "When Philip gave it to me, he said music was the most wonderful gift a person could give, and he hoped that one day I would be able to pass the flute on to one of my children. My children."
The note of sadness returned to his tone with the last repeated words. Natalie met the sorrow that also reflected in his eyes, and she too felt the ache of his grief. Grief for children that would never be? She wanted a family. She wanted a family with Nick, and only Nick. But would she find a cure in time to make that dream come true? She honestly didn't know. All she did know was that she would continue to work and hope, and of course, love.
Hearing Philip's wish for his friend brought with it an understanding. Natalie was now mindful of the significance the flute held, especially when given to Elliot.
"When you brought up the idea of music this morning, it hit me. I guess I've been so busy looking that I didn't see something sitting right under my nose. Elizabeth has mentioned that Elliot's showing, much to her delight, an interest in music. I hadn't thought about the flute for years, but this morning, thanks to you, it came back to me. I think Elliot might enjoy having something basic to experiment with." Nick had turned abruptly from Natalie as if to physically push the longing and pain of unborn children from his thoughts and took his place back by the fireplace. He stood with his back to her, and she got up from the couch to join him. As she approached, she heard his muffled, "I hope he treasures it and keeps it always."
She stopped just behind him and put a comforting hand on his arm. "Giving the flute means more than presenting a child with a simple gift for his birthday, doesn't it, Nick? This is a chance to fulfill Philip's wish for his creation, isn't it? A chance to pass the flute on to, perhaps not your son, but to a boy who has endeared himself to you almost as strongly as a son would. A chance to see the flute become part of a family's history, to be cherished and passed on like Philip had wanted. And in a small way, a chance for you to become part of that normal, family history as the story of how the flute came to be in the family filters down through time. Or maybe it's not that involved. Perhaps it's simply a hope that Elliot will prize it, and one day, in the spirit of love in which it was presented to him, give it to one of his children."
Nick turned his head to look at the understanding woman standing behind him, an astonished smile on his face. "You're amazing, Nat. Sometimes I think you can read my mind."
She handed the flute back to him as she thought, Oh, how I wish. It would make things so much easier sometimes. But Natalie kept that desire to herself as she spoke. "Not as amazing as all that, Nick. Your words are very revealing, and I know how you feel about Elliot."
He turned completely to face her. "You're right, as usual. He's very special to me, and I would love to see him enjoy the flute and someday give it to a child of his own."
Natalie watched the vampire's features soften as he talked about the youngster, and once again found herself amazed by this self-called evil creature's capacity for love and tenderness. She wished with every fiber that he could be convinced of his goodness. It annoyed her how he was always more than willing to chide himself for the wickedness of his past and the darkness that still, he believed, colored his soul, but was never prepared to acknowledge the light that shown brightly from his heart. A light, she believed, that would one day help them banish the vampire forever.
A little of the gentleness vanished from Nick's expression. He was silent for a moment and then continued. "I suppose I'm being selfish by giving it to him. It's something I want to do very much, but I can't help wondering if he'll really like the present. I don't want to disappoint him. Maybe I'm giving the flute more for my satisfaction than for Elliot's?"
Nat smiled tenderly at Nick's concern. Second guessing himself and questioning his motives weren't new practices for this vampire. Heaven forbid he should give himself a break and accept that what he was doing was a simple gesture of love. But, she had to admit, she could see his point. Although selfish struck her as rather a harsh word. After all, the flute was probably worth a pretty penny, so in that regard it was a very generous gift indeed. Still, Natalie also had her doubts as to Elliot's reaction to the instrument. At his age, boys didn't usually think much of things unless they talked, squeaked, buzzed, rang, rolled on four wheels or were played on a computer. The gratification Nick would receive from giving the gift might not extend to the recipient. However, if Elliot's interest in music was in earnest, the gift would, more than likely, have the future Nick hoped.
The doctor shook her head. "You're not being selfish, Nick. But...Elliot's...young. Don't be too disappointed of he's not as taken with the flute as you would like. If his fascination with music is sincere, and he sticks with it, you've chosen the perfect gift, and he'll grow to appreciate it more as he gets older. If not...well, I still have the feeling he'll like anything his favorite police detective gives him."
Natalie's positive words were met with an appreciative smile as Nick leaned forward to place a light kiss on her cheek. "Thanks, Nat. I hope you're right."
She tossed him a playfully indignant frown. "Wha'da you mean, you hope? Of course I'm right. Didn't you just tell me I usually am?" With an impish wink, she turned to walk into the kitchen where she'd left her bag on the table. She started rummaging through it and pulled out a plastic container. Looking up from the bag, she watched Nick put the flute on an end table and follow her. He stood on the opposite side of the table as she offered him the large cup. "I've made another adjustment in the recipe, not as much of the iron supplement. Hopefully it'll go down a tad easier."
The immortal pulled his yuck-a-protein-drink face. "I'm not really hungry right now, Nat. Can I try it later?"
A pang of disappointment accompanied her frown. He was stalling. The protein shakes had been going over very poorly recently, more so than was usual. His attitude toward her cocktails could never have been described as enthusiastic, but she could hardly get him to take a sip of one nowadays. She was sure she could open the refrigerator and find the drinks she'd given him last week, untouched. He just didn't seem to want to try anymore, and it frightened her. She could feel him slipping further and further away.
The strained look on Nick's face faded into a relenting grin. "Okay, Nat. Hand it over."
Her expression brightened as she gladly passed the container to him. Unconsciously biting her lower lip, Nat watched him open the lid and take a sniff. He wrinkled his nose in light-hearted disapproval before putting the cup to his mouth. Much to her amazement, he finished the shake in one long drink. When he lowered the cup, Natalie eagerly searched his face for a reaction. The disgust that usually went along with his consumption of one of her concoctions was surprisingly absent. He certainly didn't look as if he loved it, but the lack of blatant displeasure was in itself heartening.
It quickly became apparent, however, that he was fighting to keep a straight face, trying to mask the nausea the drink made him feel. As she felt some of the air leave her balloon of encouragement, Nat also acknowledged how the attempted cover-up struck her as odd. When it came to the blood alternatives she made for him, Nick had never tried to hide his dislike before now. He had no compunction about telling her how awful he thought every one of her mixtures was. For whatever reason, this morning he appeared to be trying very hard not to disappoint her. She recalled his unwillingness to confide in her when she first arrived and wondered if this extra effort had anything to do with that.
Come on, Lambert. Give the Sherlock Holmes impression a rest, will ya? He's trying, for cryin' out loud. That's all you want, isn't it?
It was true. He finished the shake and, so far, had said nothing negative about the experience. She supposed she shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. At this point, she would take anything she could get, even though her gut was telling her that this effort wasn't whole-hearted and probably wouldn't last past her walking out the door.
"That wasn't too bad, Nat. Not exactly appetizing, but not too bad." Turning, Nick walked to the sink where he started rinsing out the container.
"What? No derogatory remark? And you actually finished it? Well, it's not glowing acceptance by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm pleasantly surprised. Now...." She walked over to the refrigerator, opened it and proved her suspicion correct. The two drinks she'd given him a few days before were still sitting in the same place she'd put them. "If I could just get you to drink them when I'm not around, we'd really be making some progress."
Nat carried the two spoiled shakes to the sink. As she opened the lids and began pouring the rancid liquid down the drain, she slid the detective a sideways glance. "Nick, you do want to keep trying, don't you? I can't accomplish anything on my own. It's your life we're trying to change." She paused and Nick remained silent. Putting the empty containers in the sink, she turned to face him. "We are trying, aren't we?" She'd already put some form of this question to him several times over the past year, and each time he had either changed the subject or given her a half-hearted 'of course', or words to that effect. Neither of these responses had made her feel overly confident in his continued desire, but he hadn't told her no, and that was all the encouragement she needed to keep on working and hoping. And here they were again. She held her breath as she waited for his answer.
He didn't look at her as he finished cleaning the containers and put them on a dishtowel to dry. When, after what seemed like an eternity, he finally turned his attention to her, Natalie heard him draw a slow, deep breath. The sound reminded her of a person mentally preparing themselves to tell a friend bad news, and the doctor's body instantly stiffened in reaction. She studied Nick's beautifully expressive face and tried to gauge what he was about to say. God, he looked so very tired and...defeated? She prayed silently. Please don't let that be defeat I see in his eyes.
Nick's expression remained pensive as his eyes raked Natalie's concerned face. She watched him slowly take stock of her features and wondered how deeply he could see into her heart. She wasn't attempting to hide anything from him. It was all in her face for him to see. The love. The hope. The promise. And the fear. His gaze moved from the soft curls at her forehead, to her eyes and then lingered a moment on her mouth as it trembled ever so slightly with the intense emotion she was feeling, before his examination returned to her eyes. The inspection almost felt like a physical caress, and Natalie thought she saw some of the earlier desire return to his face. He closed his eyes and seemed to struggle against the dangerous emotion. When he opened them again, she noted that he had successfully overpowered the feeling. The want had disappeared. The ghost of an apologetic smile touched his mouth before he finally spoke. "I know I haven't been the most cooperative patient, Nat. And I'll admit the setbacks have strengthened my doubts about the possibility of ever reaching the goal, but I haven't given up. Not yet."
Some of the tension left Natalie as she listened to Nick's answer. She gradually released the breath she'd been holding in and felt the stiffened muscles in her back relax. His reply wasn't as ardent as she would have hoped, but it was basically what she wanted to hear.
Nick read the apparent relief on the coroner's lovely face and reached out to slide a gentle finger down her soft cheek, his hand coming to rest under her chin. "It may not look like it sometimes, Nat, but we are trying."
Natalie tried to ignore the chill of pleasure his touch evoked as she finally allowed herself a half smile. "I know it's been hard lately, Nick. Just how hard, I won't even pretend to comprehend. Doubts are only natural, and I'm not going to stand here and tell you that I haven't had any of my own. But underneath the hesitation and uncertainty, deep inside myself, I believe that we'll reach the goal, that you'll get your mortality back. And you have to believe in it just as strongly if you ever hope to achieve that end." She took the hand from her face and wrapped it in both of her own. "We have to have faith and keep striving. We'll get there. I know we will."
She watched as he looked down at the small hands that held his in their comforting grasp. "Strong, sweet, Natalie. Your strength of conviction never ceases to astonish me." He paused as his gaze once again met hers. "I envy you that certitude. You're pretty incredible, Doctor Lambert."
At that moment Natalie did the most horribly embarrassing, inappropriate thing she possibly could have done. She'd felt it coming. She tried to hold it back, but it wouldn't be stifled. And before she knew it, it was too late. As she listened to Nick's wonderfully kind words, she yawned. She yawned!
Unbelievable, Lambert.
Instantly bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. The long shifts had finally caught up with her, and the exhaustion had suddenly swept over her in one forceful wave.
For a second, the detective appeared to be as aghast as Nat by the blatant display of fatigue. But he soon recovered and let out a heart-felt laugh as he teased, "Well, I hope I'm not boring you too much, Doctor Lambert. I wouldn't want to keep you up or anything."
The crimson in Natalie's cheeks deepened. "Nick, I'm really very sorry. I--" Another yawn interrupted her apology. "Oh, boy. I guess I'm a lot more tired than I thought."
Nick removed his hand from her grasp and walked to the chair where she had laid her coat. He held the garment open in an invitation for her to put it on, a wicked grin brightening his face. He was obviously enjoying this very much. "I think it's time you headed home, milady. Sun's been up for a little while, and we both need some sleep before our shifts tonight."
Joining him at the chair, she thought better of arguing about the decision he'd made for her. He was right. They both needed their rest. She silently nodded her head, and with Nick's help, pulled on the coat. She slid her arms in the sleeves, and Nick dropped the garment into place on her shoulders. Before she had the chance to do it herself, Natalie felt his hands in her hair as he gently pulled the silky strands from their prison beneath the cloak. She stood very still and waited for him to finish, all the while relishing the intimacy and craving something more. A flush spread through her body as, instead of releasing her hair, Nick let his hands remain lost in the soft curls. Nat closed her eyes and waited. For what she wasn't sure. She only knew that she didn't want to disturb the delicate moment.
After a few ticks of the clock, Nick moved. His hands left her hair to settle on her upper arms before turning her around. His face was a serious mask while the fire of an intense passion burned in his eyes. The raw need startled her, but she was drawn to it by the matching emotion she felt for him. The impulse to touch him was suddenly overwhelming. Slowly raising a hand, she reached out to him. But before she made contact, Nick intercepted her wrist. The look on her face silently questioned his action, but there was really no need for an answer. She knew why he had stopped her. She looked on as sadness replaced passion and thought she saw his head move a whisper from side to side in a motion of denial, quietly telling her that he couldn't handle the temptation any longer. Telling her that they were in dangerous waters and she needed to swim to shore before the waves swept her under and it was too late for rescue.
Releasing her wrist, he buried his hands in the pockets of his pants, as if locking them away from any further enticement by her closeness. "I'm sorry, Nat." His voice echoed with regret.
Natalie closed her eyes and willed her heart back to its normal pace as she took a deep, steadying breath. He'd allowed himself a few seconds of intimacy, she had reacted to it and now he was apologizing for causing a disruption in their normally restrained, carefully orchestrated show of emotion. His caution was well-advised, she knew. But at that moment it made her feel as hopeless as she had the day Nick rediscovered he was a vampire. The same pain that had gripped her as she'd had to tell him they couldn't have the kind of relationship they wanted almost suffocated her now. The tragedy of it hit her like a powerful body blow, and she fought back the tears. He was so close, and yet so very far away.
She worked to pull herself together and swallowed the lump in her throat as she opened her eyes. Nick's expression had turned to frowning concern as he looked at her strained, exhausted features. "You won't fall asleep on the way home, will you? Maybe I should call a cab."
He started toward the phone, but Natalie placed a restraining hand on his arm. She struggled to keep her voice light. "No, Nick. I'm tired, but I'm not that tired. I'm not making a cross-country trip, after all. I'll be fine." He nodded his agreement, and she released him before gathering her things from the table.
Nick followed her to the elevator door where she turned to face him. His smile fell just shy of his eyes. Determined not to leave on the melancholy note that hung in the air, Natalie forced a bright smile. "See you tonight. Ah, go easy on the Captain's ulcer, will ya? And Nick...I'm sure Elliot won't be disappointed with the flute. It's a beautiful, thoughtful gift." A quick kiss on the vampire's cheek and she disappeared through the elevator door.
End Chapter 5