Nick and Nat don't belong to me. I'm just borrowing them for short while. Anyone else in this story does belong to me.
Between The Devil And Me
By
Catherine Foster
Part 1
The gates of hell swing open wide
Invitin' me to step inside....
She's all I see
Between the Devil and me
--Alan Jackson
"Nick? Pick up. I know you're there. Please, pick up."
The sound of Natalie Lambert's confused voice stabbed Nick Knight straight through the heart as he listened to it over the answering machine.
"What's wrong? Is it something I've done? Why won't you talk to me?"
The imaginary knife plunged a little deeper with the questions, the vampire's lips tightening into a granite line against the assault.
Knight closed his eyes against a painful longing while he tried to gather his resolve. He wouldn't pick the receiver up. He couldn't. He couldn't tell her. There was no way to explain his actions. She could never be allowed to remember. It was too dangerous. LaCroix had bought his act, but for how long, if he continued to keep Natalie so close?
With a click, the machine stopped recording, and the immortal opened his eyes, a shaky sigh of relief leaving him. He'd been able to hold his ground, not give in to the aching need, but a guilty anguish continued to hold him as he stared down at the telephone. He'd known when he made the decision this was going to be hard, but.... Damn.
Nick pushed a rough hand through his hair and walked over to the window. The sun was on its way up, the golden hue of morning coloring the Toronto sky. Purposeful strides took him over to the coffee table where he picked up the remote and pushed the button that would protect him from the dangerous light, separate him from the waking world outside. He watched the metal slide into place and wished that separating himself from Natalie could be as easy as pushing a button.
It could be, you know. Nick's relentless conscience threw in its unwanted two cents worth. All you have to do is leave. Walk away and never look back. It's the only thing that makes any sense, and you know it.
Yeah, he knew it, but.... How many times had he had this argument with himself since allowing Natalie into his life? He couldn't even begin to guess.
Frustrated, Knight tossed the remote on the couch and headed for the refrigerator. He needed a drink. The cow's blood wasn't much more than putrid, especially in its cold state, but it was blood, and it nonetheless had a calming effect on him. He felt some of the repressed anger drain away as the nourishment ran down his throat.
Lowering the bottle from his lips, the vampire contemplated the past week as he stared at the green glass in his hand, a bitter sadness seeping into his heart. The days had been nothing short of unbearable, and he knew the intolerable struggle was only going to get worse. Keeping Natalie at a minimum safe distance would never be easy, no matter how much he told himself it was for her own good. As he'd admitted to himself only recently, he loved her too much.
God, help me...too much.
The process of detachment had been a monumental battle from day one, Nick's newly acknowledged love making the need to draw Nat close almost impossible to overcome. However, the horrible reality of that heart-wrenching Valentines Day had given him no choice. It had also given him a strength of purpose he hadn't known he possessed. He'd come much too close to losing her that night, and it could never...never happen again. It didn't matter how much it pained him. It didn't even matter how much it hurt Natalie. Keeping her safe was all important.
Since that fateful February day, Nick had gone out of his way to avoid her at work, made up excuses why she couldn't come to the loft, why he couldn't visit her in the morgue to pick up her latest concoction or let her pull another blood sample. At first, Natalie didn't seem to think too much of his dodges, but after a few days, his efforts to avoid her had become blatantly obvious, as had her pain and confusion.
Re-corking the bottle, Knight pushed it back into the refrigerator and slammed the door.
Damn it all to hell! Turning from the appliance his angry thoughts faltered. Not all. Not Natalie.
He was already there, the formality of true death the only thing standing between him and eternal damnation. Natalie, on the other hand, would never share his fate. He would do everything in his power to see to that.
A profound weariness seized Nick as he walked back into the living room. He considered going upstairs and trying to get some rest, but he very much doubted his success in that endeavor. At the moment, Natalie weighed too heavily on his mind to allow him the luxury of sleep. Instead, he made his way to the couch and sat down, leaning his head back to rest on a cushion, his eyes closing against the indirect daylight that stole into the room though the skylight. The phone call from a few minutes ago ran through his head.
'What's wrong? Is it something I've done? Why won't you talk to me?'
A fresh misery churned Nick's stomach. It hadn't been the first time he'd heard the questions. Over the last couple of days, Natalie had confronted him with some form of them more than once, before he'd pushed her away with whatever excuse seemed reasonable at the time, ignoring the inquiries altogether. What could he possibly say to her? How could he explain?
With another heavy sigh, Knight slid his body into a prone position on the couch, a leather-clad arm serving as his pillow. He didn't know. He just didn't know what he could say to her. There was one thing, however, Nick did know. He'd better think of something to tell Natalie, and quick. She was not one to be put off for long, and sooner or later, he would be forced to talk to her. He was quite certain it would be sooner rather than later.
Resting an arm across his eyes, the vampire knew a couple of other things too. He was going to have to lie to Natalie again, and he was going to have to hurt her even more than he already had. Merely thinking about it triggered an acute loathing. It was going to kill him to do it, but it was a desolation he would have to bear, Nat's safety depended on it.
"I will have the retribution that you promised me." LaCroix's words came flooding back. "I will deprive you of the mortal that you love, or I will deprive her of you. Either way, your promise will be fulfilled."
The impassioned determination in the declaration sent a chilling wave of horror through Nick, much as it had the first time he'd heard it. It was a threat that would haunt him until the end of his days, his rash promise to LaCroix all those years ago finally rearing its ugly head. At the time he'd made it, Nick hadn't been thinking about the future and who it might hold for him. His only thought had been to preserve his sister's innocence, her humanity, the consequences of the promise never once considered. Now, of course, he had no choice but to consider them.
With a vengeance, the terror of Valentine's night rushed over Nick again, the same cold fear slicing through him. He'd come so close to losing Natalie, so horribly close. And in that one instant, with LaCroix hovering over her, ready to strike, the consequence of the promise had hit Nick square in the heart. Without even realizing it, all those centuries ago, he'd offered Natalie up on the altar of retribution, and the reality petrified him.
"I'm sorry, Nat." Nick's hushed voice cracked the silence of the loft. "I had no right to endanger you. I...had no right to...fall in love with you."
The words helped conjure an unwanted picture of Natalie, beautiful, open, soft, giving...loving. And he remembered, at once happily and reluctantly. The silken curve of her cheek. The wonder of having her in his arms. The honeyed taste of her mouth, warm and inviting as she welcomed his touch.
Fatigue began to catch up with Nick as he allowed himself the defeating luxury of dwelling in the cherished memories. Memories that he knew he should be doing everything in his power to push far from his mind. Foolishly, Knight allowed the paralyzing fear to dissipate as he lost himself in the gentle flow of pictures and feelings that would never leave him no matter how he might try to banish them. The few hours that he and Natalie had acknowledged, and acted upon, their feelings for one another were far beyond precious, and he would hold them dear for the remainder of his life, such as it was. The time could never be repeated, so Nick would keep its memory safe and draw comfort from it when he could. As now, allowing the warmth and tenderness to saturate his mind and soul, expelling the lonely darkness that lurked in his reality. The beauty continued to drift through Knight's mind's eye and a settled sleep claimed him.
The vampire woke to the sound of a familiar heartbeat--Natalie. The grinding of the elevator registered next. Both recognitions triggered the dread that began to descend over his heart. A keen apprehension clouded his mind, threatening to siphon his strength, steal his resolve. Fighting the debilitating weakness, he opened his eyes. This confrontation was inevitable, and he worked to gather the fortitude necessary to get through it.
A clear, evening sky looked down on the immortal, stars bright as they considered the earth. Their ethereal beauty was not completely lost on him, but their usual brilliance seemed somehow compromised, lacking. Tonight they appeared oddly bereft, much like he felt at the moment.
A quiet sigh escaped Nick when he affirmed the loss of the gentle, soothing dream that had guarded his sleep. It was just as well. The tender memories would do nothing for him now. Nothing, that is, except sabotage his conviction. They would also serve to endanger Natalie if he continued to indulge in them. LaCroix would eventually glean Nick's true feelings and disaster would not be far behind. Knight would inevitably betray Nat to his maker if the feelings weren't somehow stifled.
Stifled by distance? Maybe. How much distance? He didn't know. How much could he stand?
The elevator door slid open, and Knight put his feet on the floor, pulling himself into a sitting position. Natalie entered the loft, but Nick didn't attempt any further movement, keeping his position, waiting. He could do no more as he steeled himself against what was to come, a fine layer of blood-sweat beginning to form on the palms of his hands.
The vampire listened as Natalie took off her coat and hung it on a kitchen chair. His lips formed a hard line as the morbid anticipation continued to grow. Faint footsteps brought Nat to stand behind the couch.
"We have to talk, Nick." Determination colored the coroner's quiet voice.
"About what?" Aloof innocence clung to the simple question. Nick knew he wouldn't get away with it, but it might buy him a little time. What the hell was he going to tell her?
"You know damn well what. Why the cold shoulder?" Natalie's impatient tone wavered with sadness as she continued. "What's wrong? What have I done?"
Done? Oh, not much. Nothing more than make me fall in love with you. Nothing much at all. Knight answered silently, his heart aching with the dangerous confession.
The immortal fought hard to ignore the grief he sensed in Natalie, telling fists forming at his sides. He could be strong. He would be strong. But dear God, it hurt. It hurt so damn much.
"You haven't done anything, Nat." Nick rose from the couch, still refusing to look at Natalie. He walked to the fireplace and stared down into the dark hearth. His jaw tightened with the self-disgust that lay bitter in mouth. "Cold shoulder? I...I don't--"
"Come off it, Nick. Yes, you do. Don't give me that crap. Talk to me. Don't I at least deserve an explanation?" Renewed anger gave force to Natalie's words.
"You deserve much more than that. So much more." With the hushed admission a dark anguish wrenched Knight's insides, and he closed his eyes against the excruciating torture. Deep in his heart he knew he would never be the one to give Natalie the happiness she deserved. Never.
Again, light footsteps brought Nat to stand behind the vampire. Her fingers touched his arm and the warmth from the delicate contact nearly sent Knight to his knees. He desperately wanted it, needed it, craved it. The heat permeated his cold flesh, and Nick stood stone still basking in the intoxicating sensation. He'd had a taste of the delicious closeness, and he wanted more, much more. How could he find the will to give it up, to give 'I will deprive you of the mortal that you love,....'
LaCroix's threat invaded Knight's mind once more. It was a blast of arctic air on Nick's heated thoughts, and he worked to smother the dangerous longing as a shiver rippled down his spine.
"Then...talk to me, Nick." Natalie pleaded softly.
The solemn need in Nat's voice conjured a crushing guilt, and the desire to pull her to him and comfort her flooded the vampire's being.
No. I can't. I won't. Knight stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pants as he fought the sudden impulse.
Opening his eyes, Nick broke the contact with Natalie, walking to stand at one of the iron-clad windows. The craving to hold her in his arms, however, continued to gnaw at him, the distance he put between them not having much of an effect. He had to get through this, somehow. He had to.
"Damn it, Nick. Look at me."
Nat's frustrated demand stirred the immortal's shame, his jaw clenching against the unwanted emotion. Was he really such a coward? That he couldn't face Natalie as she confronted him? No. It wasn't so much fear of the confrontation. He and Nat had disagreed in the past, on many different things. No, it was the fear of looking at her, watching her, of seeing her beautiful eyes shadowed with pain. A pain he was responsible for. The sight would blur his objective, obscure his purpose. Did he have the strength to look through the sadness and do what had to be done to protect her? Yes. LaCroix had given him no choice.
Knight took a deep breath and turned to face Natalie. His back stiffened as he drew himself up to his full height, foolishly hoping the gesture would somehow reinforce his courage.
She stood before him proud, determined, hopeful and...a little angry. Well, perhaps more than a little. Nick watched, fascinated, as all of these emotions vied for supremacy, the struggle reflected on her expressive face. Her strength of purpose, however, seemed to win out as she looked at him, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for him to confide in her. Knight envied that strength, and prayed he would be a match for it.
But when Nick looked into Natalie's eyes, he doubted his ability. The deep sorrow lurking there clawed at his gut, his biggest fear realized. Something inside him started to ache as he recognized the grief, a grief of his making. A pain he had the power to ease, but wouldn't, couldn't. The need to turn away from Nat's profound sadness seared Knight's mind, but he stifled the cowardly impulse.
"I just...just need a little...space." Nick found his voice, the response more hesitant than he would have liked.
Knight groaned to himself. The words sounded even more cliched when he said them out loud. They were true, but at the same time, they were a copout, because they were in no way an explanation. They were convenient. They were evasive. Guilt continued to have its way with Nick as he searched for something else to say. A wave of self-loathing rose in his throat, caustic bile burning the tender skin as his body objected to the betrayal.
The vampire witnessed a shocked surprise register on Natalie's face. She looked as though he'd slapped her. And, when he thought about it, in a way, he had, actual contact the only thing lacking. His mind reeled. He couldn't do this. God! He couldn't do this to her.
"Space? What's that supposed to mean?" Nat's incredulous voice broke through the lengthening silence. "I thought...? Last week...?" Natalie touched an unsteady hand to her forehead, as if desperately trying to think. Her attention shifted to the floor, and she shook her head. "You said we had a good time. I guess I must have had a little too much to drink. I still can't seem to remember much about the evening, but I thought it went okay. A nice friendly dinner." She looked back at Nick. "Now you want space?"
While Natalie had been under LaCroix's influence, Nick used the opportunity to bury her memories of their time together, the tenderness, the admissions of love. At the time, it seemed like a good idea. If Natalie didn't remember, then she would be out of danger. They would go on as they had before, good friends, and LaCroix would have no more reason for suspicion. Nat would be safe. But now, Knight knew it had been wrong. Hell, he'd known it at the time he'd done it, but he'd panicked. His fear had overwhelmed his better judgement, and he'd tampered with something that should have been left alone.
Awkward seconds continued to tick by as Knight quietly berated his meddlesome stupidity, eyes glued on Nat's lovely face. Her wounded expression all but tore the heart from the immortal's chest. His cruelty reflected back at him, and the sight was more than he could bear. Pursing his lips, he pushed a rough hand through his hair. With his entire being, he wanted to tell her what had happened and what he had done, but it wasn't possible. Not now.
"It did, Nat. Dinner went...fine." Nick pulled himself from his disturbing thoughts and tried to reassure Natalie. He failed miserably. He wanted to tell her that everything had gone great, wonderful, but couldn't quite bring himself to that level of enthusiasm. Somehow, it would compound a falsehood he already detested himself for fabricating.
"Fine? Is that all you have to say? Fine?" Natalie stared at Nick, hands on hips, wide-eyed and disbelieving.
"There's...nothing else...to say. We had a good time." The vampire repeated his misleading mantra even as the words threatened to get stuck in his throat.
"And now? Things aren't fine anymore? You want...space. Whatever that means." Sarcasm dripped from Natalie's last sentence as she seemed to shake off the confusion and regain her resentment.
"It means I need to step back for a while." The unvarnished truth of this particular statement allowed Nick to put some force behind it, his voice unwavering.
Natalie flinched, again looking as though she'd taken a physical blow. This one, however, had been much harder, hurt a great deal more. Her attention moved to fix on something behind Nick's head, as she appeared unable to look at him. She stood silent. The color drained from her face while moisture gathered in her sad eyes. "Step back?" Her sights returned to Nick, immense pain shinning through the hovering tears. "From me."
The desire to gather Natalie in his arms swept over Knight once more. His heart begged him for relief from the hideous torture, implored him to stop the unbearable cruelty and console her. The fierce need took him a step closer to her before he caught himself. Abruptly halting his approach, he closed his eyes against the agony that washed through him.
"Nat, please--" The vampire implored as he found the strength to look at the mortal again.
"No, Nick." Natalie cut Knight off as she shook her head. Her impatience was growing, and she made no effort to hide it. "I don't want to hear it. Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"Nat--"
"Okay, whatever." Natalie threw her hands up in disgusted defeat. After a second or two of quietly contemplating the floor, she pinned Nick with an angry glare, the threatening tears effectively banished. "I thought we were closer than this, Nick. We're friends. Aren't we? We talk to each other. Why are you pushing me away?"
"Nat, please believe me. It's not you. It's me. I just--"
"Never mind." Natalie's annoyed response interrupted Knight. Taking a slow, deep breath, she walked to stand directly in front of the vampire, her chin lifted in proud defiance. "You get your wish, Nick. I'm outta here. If you don't want to talk, you don't want to talk. For my part, when you're ready to tell me what's really going on, I'll be ready to listen. I only hope that it's soon."
Without another word, Natalie spun on her heel, grabbed her coat from the kitchen chair and headed for the elevator. With the push of the button, the door opened and she disappeared through it.
Tears stung the back of Nick's eyes as he stared at the metal doors, listening to Nat get into her car and drive away. Her overwhelming sorrow continued to hang in the air like a thick, suffocating fog, and the vampire nearly choked on it, his sense of accomplishment nowhere to be found. After all, he'd achieved his goal, hadn't he? He should feel good about that, surely? He accomplished what he'd set out to do. He'd put some distance between himself and Natalie. Some distance? Knight's thoughts faltered. More like a canyon. An irreparable canyon? No matter. If it were true, mores the better, right? Nat would be beyond the reach of his dangerous influence. Yes, it was good. It was terrific. So, why did he feel as if his whole world had just come crashing down around him?
A loud, steady clapping caused Nick to whirl around and face the staircase. His eyes moved up to the railing on the second-story hallway. Seated on the rail, legs dangling over the side, was a man dressed in a black, three-piece suit, a bright smile on his face.
"Very good, Knight. Very good, indeed." The stranger continued to clap as he praised his host, a hardy glee reflected in his voice. "I have to congratulate you. You're doing a wonderful job."
"What the--" Nick's complete surprise colored his hushed tone.
Dumbfounded, the vampire gawked at the man so precariously perched on the railing. The gentleman looked to be in his early fiftys, dark brown hair, short and neat, graying at the temples. He was slender, but well built. Nick got the impression power coiled in the body balancing on his stair rail. The stranger's eyes were green, alight with the smile that lingered on his face. Fine lines were etched at their corners, no doubt from years of smiles and laughter. He was a distinguished looking man, but also hinted at being a jovial one as well.
How could he get in here without so much as an inkling? Knight hunted for some kind of an explanation for the undetected arrival. He hadn't heard another heartbeat enter the loft. For that matter, he didn't hear one now.
Vampire? No. He couldn't feel the presence of another vampire anywhere in the area.
"No, Detective, I'm not a vampire." The stranger seemed to glean Nick's thoughts as he too answered the unasked question. "But I do get around, don't I?"
Lifting one hand from where they both rested on his lap, the intruder appeared to use the motion to raise the rest of his body. Slowly, he rose from the railing, hovered for a second in the seated position, then straightened his legs and began a leisurely decent until his feet settled, ever so lightly, on the floor.
"What the hell?" Dismay washed through Nick as he studied his now grounded visitor.
If this guy isn't a vampire, what is he? The perplexed immortal tried to come up with some kind of an answer. A ghost, maybe? Nick's mouth quirked with a rejection. No, he looks real enough.
"No, not a ghost, either." The older man shook his head. A mischievous light sparkled in his eyes as his smile grew a little wider.
Again, with the Kreskin impersonation. Knight noted quietly, exasperation flickering to life.
Nick closed the distance between himself and the intruder, walking over to stand a few feet in front of him. The immortal noticed that he and the man were just about the same height before an ever-increasing irritation pulled him from the stray observation. "Who are you? How do you know me? How'd you get in here?"
Knight didn't like the situation, not one iota. Although he didn't get a sense of danger from the man, his presence was, to say the least, unnerving. The fact that he seemed to be able to read Nick's every thought was beyond unnerving. It was downright intimidating. The vampire had no idea what or whom he was dealing with, and the uncertainty churned his stomach. He wanted answers, although after what he'd just witnessed, maybe the last question had been unnecessary.
"No need for alarm, Nick. This is a friendly visit. The name's Thaddeus J. Winterbottom. Oh, I've been following your exploits for years now. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." The visitor held out his hand, but when Nick refused to take it, it fell back to his side. "Yes, well-- I've come to congratulate you, Knight. Nothing more."
"Congratulate me? What are you talkin' about? Who are you? What are you? What the hell is this about?" Nick's patience was wearing thin, a frustrated anger building fast.
"Precisely that, Detective Knight. Hell. You catch on quickly."
"What?" Stark confusion usurped Nick's simmering irritation as a puzzled frown creased his brow.
"Hell, Nick. This is about Hell." Thaddeus stuffed his hands into his pants pockets as he smugly considered his host. "And more specifically your journey toward it. Today you pushed a considerable roadblock out of the way. It was admirable, and I wanted to applaud your effort."
"Roadblock? Today?" Knight struggled to follow the inane conversation.
Natalie? The realization hit Nick from out of nowhere. Today he had pushed Natalie away. Pain crept back into the vampire's heart as Nat, and his treatment of her, came to mind.
"Exactly. Natalie." Winterbottom confirmed the vampire's suspicion. "The good doctor was starting to get on ol' Scratch's nerves, but, I would venture to say, he's feeling better now." A happy enthusiasm filtered through the praise. "You handled her very well."
"Scratch?" Knight didn't miss the fact that, once again, the intruder seemed to read his mind, but the reference caught his attention. "As in Beelzebub, the Devil, Lucifer?"
"One and the same." With a satisfied grin, Thaddeus nodded in accord. "I'm sure he's very pleased with you right about now. Your life certainly has gone his way."
Nick's incredulous stare bored into his unwelcome visitor. The conversation was getting way out of control. He still knew nothing about this guy, and now they were discussing Lucifer.
"Okay, let me get this straight." Sarcasm oozed from Knight as he crossed his arms over his chest, a mocking grin plastered on his face. "You've come here to tell me that the Devil is happy with the way my life, for lack of a better word, is going?"
What a shock. Nick added silently, his attitude sobering. If the Devil did exist, and Knight's beliefs told him that he did, Beelzebub couldn't be anything but pleased with the way the crusader had handled his life. But a visitor from down below? That was a little hard to swallow, even for a vampire.
"Yes, I guess you could say that." Thaddeus bowed his head in agreement.
"So, on top of being able to fly, and apparently read minds, you're crazy too." Leaning forward, Knight dropped his arms back to his sides and turned an ear toward Winterbottom, mockery staining his tone. "Ah...what was the name, again?"
"Thaddeus. Thaddeus J. Winterbottom. And I am not crazy." An annoyed frown turned the corners of Thaddeus' mouth. He obviously didn't appreciate the facetious accusation.
"You're not? What are you then?" Knight paused a moment, and a thought hit him. His eyes narrowed with blatant wariness as he focused on Thaddeus's face. "Wait a minute. Are you trying to tell me you're a demon?"
"A messenger, simply a messenger." Winterbottom insisted, holding up a hand in protest.
A demon. Great. Just great. How much worse can this get? Knight quietly scoffed as his eyes fell to the floor. He had a loony...something in his home telling him Satan was pleased with him. Surely, this was a dream. It had to be. Please let it be dream. Unfortunately, he knew it wasn't.
Nick remained silent as he allowed himself to think about the circumstance for a second. Thaddeus wasn't a vampire, but he wasn't moral, either. What then? Knight's thoughts slowed. Was it possible? It sounded nuts, but.... Could the man actually be a demon? Why not? But...what did a demon look like?
LaCroix. The name popped into Knight's head, unbidden. A sad frown tugged at his lips as he again pictured the ancient vampire standing over Natalie. Maybe technically it wasn't true, but in every other sense of the word, his master could fit the bill perfectly.
Nick's mind continued to wrestle with what he was seeing and hearing...and thinking. His religion warned of the Devil and the evil he inflicted on the human race. It also preached of the Devil's henchmen. Demons did Satan's work. Did they fly? Did they read minds? For all Knight knew, they did. Did they have a heartbeat? Why would they? But...he didn't sense evil in his visitor. Malevolence, if it was near, usually made an impression on him. He recognized it fairly easily. Why not now?
"So, Beelzebub is a happy camper again, and I'm on my way to Hell. Tell me something I don't know." Suddenly, Nick felt resigned...to everything, from his conclusions about the man standing in his living room to his eventual fate. He didn't care. It didn't matter anymore. Besides, if anyone deserved it, he did. He'd done too much. Hurt too many. One, in particular, would haunt him the rest of his days.
"It doesn't bother you? The thought of eternal damnation?" An odd disappointment tainted Winterbottom's tone. For someone who should welcome Nick's defeatist attitude, he seemed genuinely frustrated by it.
"I've had 800 years to get over it." With a casual shrug, Knight turned and walked to the front of the couch. He leaned his head back and looked up through the skylight at the clear, star-filled evening. "I've long since stopped worrying about my soul."
"Ah...but that's not really true is it, Nick?" Thaddeus followed the vampire and stopped opposite him, the coffee table between them. "You worry about it quite a bit, actually. Or you wouldn't be trying so hard to regain your mortality."
Nick's attention returned to his visitor as a deep sadness blanketed his mind. "So, you know about that too, do ya?" For some reason, the surprise just didn't come. "Well, maybe I won't be trying so hard anymore. The possibility of mortality grows more faint with every day that goes by. Success is a dream that will never come true." With a heavy sigh, the immortal closed his eyes against the painful reality.
"Especially now." Thaddeus' agreement was nothing short of triumphant.
"Now?" Knight opened his eyes and looked back at his unwanted guest, curiosity peaked. "Why especially now?"
"Well, Natalie, of course." A short chuckle left Winterbottom. "You know...if you'd tried, you couldn't have screwed it up more than you did. She's as mad as a hornet, on top of being cut to the bone by your rejection. You really did a bang up job, Nick. I've got to hand it to you. I couldn't have done better myself."
That intense ache started again. Nick felt it radiate from his heart and spread throughout his entire body, leaving him weak from the sorrow. What he'd done was unforgivable. Unforgivable, but necessary. The necessity, however, didn't make his cruelty any easier to live with. It merely gave him the guts to follow through.
I'm sorry, Nat. So sorry.
"I did what I had to do." Restless, Knight strode over to the fireplace as he tried to banish the memory of Natalie's pain. Facing Thaddeus, he injected a determined harshness into his voice. "The farther from me Natalie is, the better off she'll be."
"Agreed." Winterbottom nodded as he joined Nick at the hearth. "Your feelings for her are dangerous. Dangerous, indeed." With a fresh smile, Thaddeus gave Knight a good-natured wink. "I can't tell you how proud I am, my boy, that you've chosen to abandon them."
"Dangerous for her, yes. I have to step back." Nick ignored Winterbottom's playful attitude as he was, once again, reminded of what was at stake and what he had to do, the loneliness that lay ahead.
"Dangerous for you, too, Nick." Thaddeus added. "Well, for a successful conclusion to your journey, anyway."
"I, somehow, doubt my destination will be altered." A gloomy acquiescence gripped the vampire when he acknowledged his destiny, his gut tightening with a prevailing helplessness. "Natalie's a mortal, like so many before her, trying to help me with my quest. The only difference is that I love her with everything I am." Nick didn't see a need to try to hide something he knew Thaddeus was already well aware of.
"And that is the danger." A punctuating finger pointed to the ceiling, Thaddeus emphasizing his point. "You see Nick, this past hundred years or so have slowed your journey's progress, what with your search for morality and helping mortals. They've also worried Beelzebub, just a touch. And when Natalie Lambert entered your world, he really got anxious." Winterbottom slid his hand back into his pants pocket. "True love always concerns Satan. It's powerful stuff. It can accomplish miraculous things. But what he hates most is its ability to sap his strength, diminish his power. Nothing makes him angrier. However, you've taken care of that problem. All's right again." Thaddeus flashed a quick grin. "You've surrendered that love. You've given up the one thing that could have stood between you and Scratch, and offered you some chance for a reprieve. Lucifer's back on top. He's back in control. Thanks to you, he's regained his strength.
"What I find ironic is that you don't seem to realize that Natalie, and your profound love for her, have brought you closer to humanity than you've been since the day you were brought across." Thaddeus shrugged. "Oh, maybe not physically. You're still a vampire. You need blood to survive, and so on. The closeness comes more on the spiritual side. And that's the dangerous part, the part that makes Lucifer nervous." Some of the seriousness left Winterbottom as his smile returned. "However, your rejection of Natalie and that love has pulled you back from humanity, separated you from it, as before. When you rejected her, you rejected the closeness. But, that's a good thing, and certainly understandable." A blatant pity clouded Thaddeus' expression, his eyes suddenly doleful, smile gone. "You're weak. You're frightened. You just don't have any fight left in you. You've been beaten. It's just easier to lay down and submit. LaCroix has always gotten the better of you. Why should now be any different?" A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth once again. "As I said before, Lucifer has the upper hand again, and I just wanted to give you a much deserved pat on the back for all your help."
Nick was seething. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, knuckles whiter than normal with the pressure. How he kept from pushing one through Thaddeus' face, he didn't know. What he did know was that he'd heard about all he could stand. Knight's deep scowl tightened his jaw, rage burning through him. Where did this guy get off?
"Just who in the Hell do you think you are?" Nick took a resolute step closer to Thaddeus, his anger barely under control. "You've done everything but call me a coward to my face."
"You said it. I didn't. But--" Thaddeus cocked his head to one side and pursed his lips as he left the damning accusation unspoken.
"It's not cowardice." Running an aggravated hand through his hair, Nick walked back over to the couch. He stared down at the black leather and struggled for a way to counter the hideous allegation. "It's...."
"Fear?" Thaddeus offered, rather caustically. "Kinda the same thing, isn't it?
"No, it's not." Knight continued to argue his case, although, he wasn't quite sure who he was trying to convince, Thaddeus or himself. "I'm backing away for Natalie's sake, to spare her life. LaCroix will kill her, or worse yet, bring her across, if I don't somehow bury my feelings for her. And with her so close, I don't know if I can keep hiding them." Nick's voice dropped to a whisper. "I love her so much."
"Well, as the saying goes, you've got a funny way of showing it." Winterbottom held up his hands in a gesture of surrender when Nick's furious glare settled on him. "But that's all right. As a matter of fact, that's fine. We like that. Hell is full of cowards. They do very well there."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Damn it, I'm not a coward." He wasn't, was he? What bothered Knight more than anything was that he wasn't sure anymore.
"If you weren't, Nick, you'd find the strength to keep her close and keep her safe. But, apparently, you don't love her enough to try." Thaddeus slapped his hands together in celebration, his unabashed glee nearly tangible as it permeated the room. "This just keeps getting better and better. You're going to make such a nice addition to Hell."
"We'll see about that." Rage continued to boil inside Nick. He wouldn't let this bastard be right. He couldn't let him be right. He loved Natalie. And, damn it, he wouldn't throw that away. He was strong enough to do this. But...the doubt, like an insidious wound, continued to fester. Could he protect her from LaCroix, keep his feelings locked away?
"What?" Thaddeus' eyes widened with surprise. "Your not going to try to turn things around now, are you? It's a little late, don't ya think?"
"No, I don't. Damn you." Nick held fast to the determination that seized him. He would need every ounce he could muster. "In the end, I may still be a nice addition to Hell, but I'm going to go down fighting."
"Oh, my." A concerned scowl set Winterbottom's mouth as he appeared lost in thought. A few seconds ticked past before he focused on Nick once again, clearly dubious. "So you're going to embrace Natalie's love, cherish it? Are you quite sure you want to do that? Hmmm...Lucifer's not going to be very happy to learn this."
"Pardon me if I don't get upset." The sarcasm was thick, dripping off of Nick's feigned apology like so much honey. However, it completely disappeared with his next words, quickly replaced by a confident resolve. "And yes, I'm sure, very sure."
"Yes, well, we'll see, Nick." A healthy skepticism shadowed Thaddeus' expression, one eyebrow raising as he conceded the possibility. "We'll see if you're strong enough. If nothing else, it should prove interesting. Now, I think it's time you got some more rest, don't you?"
"Rest? I just woke--" The protest died in the vampire's throat as a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him. His eyelids suddenly felt for all the world as if they weighted fifty pounds apiece.
"That's it. Tomorrow will be soon enough. You can resume your journey tomorrow."
Thaddeus' soothing voice came to Nick from across a great distance as he felt the couch come up to meet him. He fought the growing darkness, but to no avail. In the next instant, all was black.
End Part 1