see chapter one for disclaimers and copyrights...

A Splash of Gold
by elfin

Chapter Two - The Cottage

LaCroix stood on the front step, his arms crossed, his face a sculpture of amusement as he watched Nicholas close the garage, protecting the precious Cadillac against the adverse weather conditions. The snowflakes were settling in his son's beautiful blond hair, reminding him of an angel in Christmas pictures. Still he could not resist teasing. "So, Nicholas, remind me why we're out here?"
Nick narrowed his eyes at his father. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words changed as a stray thought struck him from LaCroix. He rose his hand in immediate defence. "Don't even think it."
"Too late." Nick did not see anything until the snowball hit him. In shock, he wiped the melting sludge from his face.
"That was cheating!"
"Moi? Cheat? Nicholas, how could you make such an accusation?!" A second blur of vampire and another hit, this time against Nick's chest. Immediately he retaliated, hurling a shaped handful of snow on a perfect trajectory to pound his father's head. LaCroix started to laugh, a sound of genuine happiness and joy as he flew at his son, colliding with him just as another snowball left his hands only to be crushed between them as they fell back, Nicholas landing in the snow, LaCroix over him. Before Nick could pull his arms up to push LaCroix off him, the elder reached out and scooped up a handful of snow. Giggling, Nick tried desperately to stave off his master's foul plan, but he was not strong enough to move out from under LaCroix's weight, pinning him into the white around them.

Holding his son with an arm across his chest, LaCroix pulled Nick's woollen jumper up, and stuffed the handful of snow up inside. In between chokes of laughter, Nick yelled his shock as the freezing snow touched his skin. "LaCroix, you total bast...."
The elder wiggled a finger at the vampire beneath him. "Ah, ah, what kind of language is that to use to your father, umm?" LaCroix's fingers worked their way to the base of Nick's jumper, and started to pull it up, to expose more skin to the snow surrounding them. Screaming and laughing, Nick struggled more, yet LaCroix easily held him in place, loving the feel of his child squirming beneath him. Satisfied that this particular lesson had been learnt, LaCroix pulled himself up, leaning over his son, gazing at him as Nicholas stopped fighting and lay there, looking back at him, wonderful blue eyes sparkling. "Oh little one...." Parting his lips, LaCroix leaned in to steal a kiss from his beloved.

Schanke flung the door open, and seeing the elder vampire leaning over Nick, seeing his partner stop struggling as the other leaned in... "Get off of him!" Schanke was standing above them in a moment, looking down in anger. Nick tilted his head back, pushing his soaking hair further into the snow so that he could look at Schanke's furiously protective expression. LaCroix was looking up also, and Nick glanced at his master, hoping to quell some of the anger he expected to see there. But he saw only surprise.
"Schank, it's okay!" Nick's face broke into a smile as he realised the other man must have heard his screams and imagined that LaCroix was hurting him.
"Nick, are you okay? He was... he was going to bite you...."
Nick chuckled, shaking his head and sliding his hand up LaCroix's arm, where it still held the vampire over his son. "No, Schank. He was going to kiss me."

Schanke stared down at the two of them, his mouth working but no sounds coming out. "Wh..."
Nick pushed LaCroix back with some ease, accepting his sire's hand to haul him to his feet. "Looks like you're up, Nicholas." The elder spoke with a twinkle in his eye. "It'll be dawn soon. I will check the shutters are adequate throughout the house."

Inside, Schanke had managed to start a roaring fire in the grate, and Nick poured three glasses from the more than adequate supplies LaCroix had collected from the Raven the previous evening. They settled in the lounge, on the white leather couch Nicholas had bought two decades ago, one summer he had spent here in total isolation, decorating in his own individual tastes. It was between gothic and Hammer Horror. Both bedrooms had wrought iron beds, with ornate headers and footers. Each room had a collection of tall, black candle holders containing thick cream-coloured long-burning candles. The colours were mostly crimson and black, with white or cream furniture. There was a library filled with books he had collected over the ages, books he did not carry with him as he moved about the world. A dining room with a long, antique table that had its own fascinating history. Only the kitchen was different, done in an English Farmhouse style, in deep green and cream decor with dark pine units and a large oak table. Nick had owned this place for over a hundred years. It was his own sanctuary. LaCroix had known of its existence but had never once followed him there. Only now did Nicholas feel like sharing it with anyone else.

"Nick? Are you sure you're okay?" There was still concern in Schanke's voice and that touched Nick deeply.
"We were having a snowball fight, Schank. That's all. LaCroix would never bite me, not like that."
"I thought... after I attacked you...."
Nick touched his friend's arm reassuringly. "Control of the hunger comes quickly, believe me. You'd been injured, you needed to feed and I was there."
Schanke nodded. "So... out there...."
"I did say that my relationship with LaCroix was complicated."
Schanke's eyes widened. "You and he....? But he's... he's your father!"
"In vampiric terms, yes. But that's not the same as in mortal terms. You will quickly find that vampires are innately ... sexually orientated beings. The vampire hunger needs blood, but the spirit craves physical contact." Nick realized that only directness would explain things satisfactorily. "When a vampire has sex with a mortal, it almost always ends with the vampire drinking from the mortal, and killing them. That's what we are. But it's not what we have to be. When two vampires have sex, it also ends in each drinking from the other, but that does not harm the vampire, it serves to accentuate the whole experience. The biting and drinking can themselves be sexual acts that stimulate orgasm after orgasm no matter what sex you are. Because of this, gender isn't so important. It's the blood exchange at the end that makes vampire sex the intense experience that it is, and at that point you don't notice nor care whether its a male or female that you're with."
Nicholas took a long drink from his glass, glancing at Schanke to gauge his reaction so far. He was staring at his partner, but there was a flicker of understanding in those soft features. The blond vampire pulled his legs up, wrapping one arm around his knees, awaiting the question that he knew was coming. "So..." Schanke hesitated, not wanting to offend. "You're saying that every vampire is... bisexual, not matter what they might have been in life?"
Nick thought for a moment. "Maybe. The terms 'gay', 'bisexual', they don't hold much meaning for our kind, they're not used. Personally, when I did used to feed off mortals it didn't matter what sex they were; the experience was just as intense and powerful with either sex. I did, however, always bed women rather than men; just my preference."
"But LaCroix...."
"... is different. LaCroix is... my maker, my creator. When I think of him, I think of more than just a man. He's my father, he's my protection and refuge. The way he can make me feel...." Nick's thoughts strayed to Lucien's incredible and unparalleled ability to play his body and nerves like a finely tuned instrument; his unrivalled knowledge of his son's body, of where he liked to be touched, of how to arouse him, how to push him into a long, exquisite orgasm or a violent burst of intense pleasure. None had ever known him as Lucien knew him, none had ever made him feel as he did when he was with his father. "In the days when I was brought over, the master / fledging relationship was very strict, especially where LaCroix was concerned. Our first centuries together were very intimate. The three of us shared a home, hunted together, shared each other. When Janette left, LaCroix and I stayed together, finding new companionship, yet also finding something between us that we had not seen before. For a very long time there was just the two of us. When I started to pull away from my vampirism, I found that I also had to pull away from him. We started to fight, as I told you. It's only very, very recently that we have realized how much we both lost when we lost each other."
Schanke was shaking his head. "I always thought you and Nat...."
"So did she. But as I said, relationships between our kind and mortals are very difficult and very dangerous. There was a lot about me, a lot of me that Nat refused to acknowledge. She wanted a lot from me, with no compromises, and once she got my devotion to her work on a cure for me, she pretended that the promise alone was enough to hold me. I knew that it wasn't, deep down. When things got very bad, I turned to Janette, and when they became impossible, I turned to LaCroix. I couldn't live how she wanted me to live any longer."
"In all the time I've known you, Nick... I would never have thought..." He gestured uselessly with his hand, sipping from his glass, and then downing the whole drink in one.
"Well, we're still finding our way together, but we fit together so perfectly." An almost sweet smile lit up Nick's face. "I guess I'm learning to love him again, as I once did. I don't think that's ever really changed, just been buried under the hate and the injustice."
Schanke nodded vaguely, staring into the empty glass. "This is all very new, Nick."
"You're worried about Myra."
"She knew something was wrong, Nick. I could see it in her eyes."
"You've had to come away in the course of an investigation, she understood."
"So what do I tell her when I get back?"
Again, Nick reached out and touched his partner's leg. "I'm sorry, Schank."

A gentle touch to Nick's cheek and refills were being offered. LaCroix poured silently, reading the link with his son. When he had first realized what Constantine had done, when they had been in California, LaCroix had been terrified that this would come between he and his Nicholas one more, irrevocable time. But it seemed to him now that what had actually happened was that they were coming together, becoming closer with each minute that passed. Nicholas' confidence was growing, and LaCroix's pride in him, always strong for his spirit and grace, was swelling. "I am going to enjoy the comfort of your luxurious bathtub, Nicholas, and then I shall retire for the day." He placed the bottle on the table behind the large sofa.
Nick took the hand from his cheek, and reverently kissed the palm. "I'll join you in a while."

Schanke frowned as he watched the elder leave the room. "It's weird seeing you like this... with ... with him."
Nick smiled. "Why?"
"I always pegged you as a ladies man. I mean, you and Janette were together a long time, weren't you?"
"A very long time. But... although we've become close again lately, I need... more now. There's more to our kind than drinking blood and staying out of sunlight. I need LaCroix, maybe more than I ever needed him in the past. And his presence is comfortable, comforting. He's surprisingly easy to love now I've stopped fighting him." Nick smiled, and looked up. Schanke's expression was muddled. "I'm sorry, you don't need me prattling on about this."
But Schanke shook his head, "No... it's okay." He smiled a little. "I don't want to think too much at the moment, and sitting here, having you finally talk to me is quite refreshing." He chuckled. "I'm at last getting to know my partner. And I do understand why you've been so difficult to get to know in the past. I mean, you're a brilliant detective... most of our collars were thanks to you, and I could never understand how you did it, how you got to the scene so damned fast. Everything makes sense now."
"I'm glad something good is coming out of this." Nick took another sip of the elixir in the glass he held and frowned, reaching around to read the label of the bottle from which LaCroix had poured. It was not the pure blood that they had been drinking originally, but a red wine mix, one that was quite strong. LaCroix had a skill of being able to mix the liquids quite perfectly to make the resulting drink intoxicating to their kind, to a point.

Schanke also drank, watching Nick, imagining that he was seeing his partner for the first time. Sitting in the warm peace of the cottage with the crackling of the logs in the fire grate, the deep hugging sofa, the nearness and restfulness of the presence of his partner, he felt at ease with himself and the world. Thoughts of Myra and Jenny seemed a thousand miles away, in a different world to this one. It seemed that tomorrow he would wake and this would have been nothing but a dream - a strange dream, but not exactly a nightmare.

The heat of the bloodwine surged through Schanke as he took another mouthful. Outside the windows, dawn's light started to befall the earth, and automatically the shutters slid down, securing the house from the fatal sunbeams. Schanke watched as the light was shut out, and the fire became the room's only illumination. "Do you miss the sun, Nick?"
Nicholas nodded without a thought. "Very often. Although the night is just as beautiful and I think we see a part of life that no one else does. As I said earlier, there are pros and cons." He watched Schanke finish his glass, and took the bottle, refilling for him.

"If you never grow old, why don't people notice?"
"We move on, change our lives often. Sometimes we go somewhere and do not involve ourselves at all with mortals. We have people who sort out new lives for us, new identities."
Schanke shifted, bringing his legs up and stretching out on the sofa, crossing his feet by Nick's hip. "So do you and Janette and LaCroix all ... travel together?"
"We used to. But not anymore. Janette was the first to arrive in Toronto, in 1975, and then I headed up there after leaving Chicago in 1989. LaCroix, being LaCroix, followed me. Janette was already running the Raven, something to keep her occupied for a few years. I don't know what possessed him to take up the CERK Nightwatch show, although he always uses it to talk to me."
Schanke gave that a moment's consideration. "You know, I bet those speeches of his make a lot more sense knowing that."
"I dare say. Why he thinks the people of Toronto deserve to listen to him lecturing his son I have no idea. But, I have to admit that I listened to him a lot more, and took in what he said when he spoke to me in his broadcasts rather than face to face. Maybe at some point I convinced myself that he didn't know that I was listening." Nick dropped his head against the back of the couch, stretching out as Schanke had done, pushing his bare feet between his partner and the cushions so that they faced one another.
Schanke squirmed, allowing Nick to get comfortable as the blond vampire's cold feet burrowed in next to him. He grinned. "You know, we have never been this comfortable in one anothers company. It's nice."
"Well you have to understand now why I always kept myself to myself. That time when you left Myra and decided to camp out at my place, you scared me half to death!" Nick giggled lightly at the memory, the bloodwine making his head feel floaty.
"Yeah, I did notice you getting a little jumpy...."
"Jumpy?"
"Okay, closer to panic stricken." Schanke's quiet laughter joined with that of his partner.

From the depths of the huge sunken bath that made up a large part of the expensive bathroom suite Nick had had installed only six months ago, LaCroix, immersed in bubbles, listened with joy to the gentle mirth of his son. Strangely, he felt like a father of fledglings again, relaxing while the young ones talked conspiratorially in another room. This place that Nicholas had chosen as his private sanctuary was truly beautiful; perfectly secluded along a little-used track into the forest, exquisitely decorated, comfortable and in the perfect setting for a good hunt, not that Nicholas would ever partake in such a sport, but maybe he would indulge his father one night, after all, he had not mentioned the indiscretion of the previous evening.

He remembered back to when Nicholas had purchased this place. He had tracked his errant son to New Orleans, in 1891, having lost track of him when he left Paris in one of many desperate attempts to rid himself of his master's attentions. On reaching New Orleans he had found Janette, who had been visiting her brother, but not Nicholas himself. Believing that he had been thwarted, and had just missed his son, LaCroix had gone to see Aristotle, who refused to divulge any travel plans of any of his clients, especially one Nicholas de Brabant ('on pain of whatever').

//"I have to know."
"I can't tell you." Aristotle stood, leaning on the desk that separated him from the golden-eyed elder looming over him. "Look, LaCroix, I know about your troubles with Nicholas but I have a reputation to keep. He trusts me, maybe above all others. I have seen him in distraught states, begging me to get him away because of you." He jabbed a finger at the distinctly murderous-looking vampire. "You don't scare me. I am above your family ways. The ancient who brought me over is long dead and I am in charge of my own eternity. If you killed me a great many of our kind would lose an invaluable service and you know it. You need me as much as he does."
"I've never been in need of your services." LaCroix spat the words into the insolent face that stared defiantly back at him.
"Only because you seem to float around the globe after Nicholas, because you never seem to set up a background for your lives. You just arrive in a town, settle yourself into a community and people accept that. I don't know how you do it, but most others can't."
LaCroix glared at Aristotle, but knew he would not get the information he required. He stepped away. "At least tell me if he has come to you in the last six months." Aristotle simply smiled. "You won't give me any pointers?"
"No."
LaCroix muttered something under his breath, and headed for the stone steps. "Even if I threaten to cut open your throat and make you watch while your life blood drains from you?"
Aristotle chuckled. "It's no wonder Nicholas is always running scared from you."
"Umm." Unhappy, LaCroix stomped back up into the great hall, and started for the door. As he walked, he heard footsteps behind him and turned. A young female was coming from a back room, carrying a small heap of papers clutched to her breast. LaCroix smiled.

"Excuse me, my dear. Would you be Aristotle's assistant?"
The young one looked up at him, wide-eyed. She could only have been a hundred years, maybe a little less. And she recognized an elder when she saw one. Bowing her head, she confirmed that she was.
LaCroix lifted her chin with his fingers, gently tilting her head to face him. "He said that you could help me with the current location of one Nicholas de Brabant."
She blinked nervously. "He... he only allows me to deal with property, Sire." LaCroix smiled inwardly at the mark of respect, something he very rarely received from his own children. "But... I do have details on a cottage I was asked to reserve for a Nicholas de Brabant." She clumsily sorted through the papers that she held, and finally handed him a three page document. "I believe the sale went through two nights ago."
"Thank you, you've been a great help." He bestowed a brilliant smile on her innocent features, and entertained thoughts of bestowing more on her. But he had other concerns at the moment, time for a little fun once he had located Nicholas and taught his son a hearty lesson in obedience.

LaCroix sat in the fire-lit darkness of Janette's hotel room, gazing at the document he had taken from Aristotle's charming young assistant; it described what sounded like a beautiful cottage in the small Canadian town of Rouyn. Part of him was still irritated that someone like Aristotle could command such respect and loyalty from his fledglings when an experienced elder such as himself could not get his own children to so much as settle in his company. But at that young age even Nicholas had been happy to hunt with him. Grudgingly, he was proud of them both, and of his choices in fledglings.

Janette handed her father a glass and sat down in the opposite chair. "So... why are you not heading for this place instead of moping about here?"
LaCroix shook his head. "This is not somewhere he could start a new life. This is... this is somewhere he has purchased as a place to get away from life when he needs to." Janette was moved by her master's almost understanding tone. "I will leave this place for him." He dropped the paper to the floor. "I won't follow him to somewhere he has chosen as sanctuary. I will at least pay him that courtesy."
Janette stood, crossing to sit on the arm of her father's chair. "Thank you." She reached down and took his hand in hers. "He needs this."
"Maybe he does, ma cherie. Maybe he does."//

To this day, Nicholas had no idea that his father had found out about his cottage, and LaCroix had no intention of ever letting him know. Nor had he ever any intention of coming here. He had always believed that Nicholas would return to him one day, one day before forever. This lifetime in Toronto had brought them closer than they had been in a very long time, but at no point had he thought that it would be the incarnation that saw them reconciled. After all, it had started with Nicholas trying to kill him. Fate, LaCroix mused, always played out in mysterious movements.
He closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink below the bubbles. At some time, Nick had bought in Sandalwood bath oils, an aroma that LaCroix had always said was the scent of Nicholas' arousal. Now, LaCroix wanted to drown in that scent. He felt the popping suds tingle in his nose and play in his hair. Rising until his mouth was just above the water level, he blew into the sea of bubbles before him, splattering white foam everywhere. Part of him wished that Nick had rubber ducks.

Schanke set his head against the back of couch, chuckling faintly. Nick was frowning, rolling his eyes as he drank. "And the thing was, every time I turned around he was there. I stopped being surprised, started to anticipate his words to me. It was irritating... but that was all. I thought he would eventually get bored and find someone else to torment."
"But he never did."
"No. And now I'm glad he was so determined."
Schanke nodded slightly. "I never pegged you as the overly romantic type. Mind you, I always pegged," he wiggled one set of fingers in the air in vague quotation quotes, "the 'Nightcrawler' as a total whacko. But the two of you do seem... at peace with one another." Nick smiled that open smile Schanke had only, before tonight, seen once or twice in the past. Now he watched as it came to his partner's lips so naturally and easily, as if he had been working with another Nick Knight and this was his twin. It was an indescribable feeling to finally be getting to know his partner, to be relaxed and open with each other. He inwardly pressed down on the turmoil of emotions that now and again threatened to surface and overwhelm him. On the journey here he had started to allow himself to think about the situation he was now in; not thinking in depth, but scratching the surface to see what his reactions were and would be in the future. One day soon he would miss going out in the sun, it was not like he saw much of it at present anyway, so there was no radical change in that part of his lifestyle. He liked he idea of getting to know Nick better, of finally breaking through the walls his partner erected around himself and having open, honest conversations that other partners had. It had always been something he had felt was missing from his professional life. But had he been asked, he would have said that the price to be paid - of losing Myra and Jenny - was far too high. Now that price had already been paid, the choice had been made for him and somehow he had to live with it. Usually a fairly optimistic guy, Schanke dared not think any deeper about what was happening quite yet.

"Are you okay?" Nick's gentle question snaked into Schanke's thoughts and derailed them.
"Yeah, I was just thinking."
"Anything I can help with?"
Schanke shrugged. "I dunno, they're things I could probably wait a few days before worrying about."
"Myra?"
"Mostly. And where the hell I live now."
"Well, in a couple of weeks we can have a place sorted out for you. Until then, you have the choice. You can stay with me, or the Raven has rooms. There are one or two 'families' who accept new vampires and give them lodgings until they find their feet, although I'm not so sure LaCroix would really back that idea. You're part of his family, in a way. He's very into this family thing."
Schanke nodded, accepting for now. There would be many decisions to make over the next few days, but they could at least wait until the evening. "So... are we at a stage where you can tell me who Serena was?"
Nick grinned, reaching over and slapping his partner on the arm. "All this time and you still think about her?!"
"Nick, she was... intoxicating!"
A light sparkled for a moment in warm blue eyes. "She was. Serena was - is - my daughter."
Schanke's eye bulged. "Your daughter?! But... you said that a certain... respect exists between vampires and their... creators. She didn't exactly.... Well, I remember the scene in the squad room vividly."
Nick was still grinning. "Why?"
"Because it was so... unlike you. It was like a glimpse into a part of your life that I knew absolutely nothing about."
"I guess. To answer you, yes, there is supposed to be a certain amount of respect, although the way that respect is shown has changed significantly over the ages. No vampire who becomes a new master these days would train their fledglings in quite the manner in which LaCroix trained me. Serena was... independent. Nothing more."

Schanke nodded and yawned. "So even vampires get knackered, ay Nick? I, my friend, am going to bed." He drained his glass and set it on the table behind the couch. As he leaned over the other vampire, he smiled genuinely. "Thanks, for everything you're doing."
"It's no problem at all, Schank. If you need anything...."
"I won't go wandering until the sun sets, I promise. And I won't cook breakfast either."
Nicholas watched Schanke go and sighed gently. Then he smiled.

LaCroix peered over the edge of the deep bath and looked around. Behind him, on a ledge with some soap and massage oil, there was a sad-looking bat, made of a flannel material, and obviously intended as some sort of washing aide. LaCroix's eyes lit up with amusement and joy and he reached back to snag it between his fingers. Holding the thing in both hands, he examined it. It was all black, slightly faded, apart from two white balls of flannel glued on as eyes, with small black felt dots for the pupils. Giggling childishly, LaCroix transferred the bat to one hand and flapped its wings up and down, moving it in front of his face. A few seconds of playing, and he dropped it into the bubbles, feeling it sink through the water onto his stomach.

With abject enjoyment, he reached into the water and fished out the now-soggy bat. Its wings sagged under the weight of the water that ran steadily from the pointy ends.
"What are you doing?" At the sudden intrusion of the amused voice, LaCroix dropped the bat back into the water, splashing himself with bubbles as it landed high on his chest. Obviously Nicholas had finally discovered the trick of masking his presence for a short while. He regained his composure as Nick came further into the bathroom, glass in one hand, bottle in the other.
"I am bathing, Nicholas. This is a remarkably comfortable bath tub."
Nick settled himself on the raised platform into which the bath was sunken. He sipped at the drink, looking at his sire over the fine crystal goblet. "And the bat...?"
"Is bathing with me. From the looks of it, it had been some time and the creature needed a wash."
Nick chuckled softly. "You continue to surprise me." He put down the glass and reached in to take a handful of bubbles. "Bubble bath as well?"
"Sandalwood foam and bath oils..." LaCroix finally met his son's dancing gaze, and his own eyes lit up mischievously. "How could I resist?"

Nicholas sat for a while, and LaCroix fished the bat out from the water, let it drip for a moment and threw it the very short distance into his son's face, laughing with delight at the surprise that crossed Nicholas' features. Nick placed it back on the ledge with the patience of a new parent. "What's come over you tonight?"
"Nothing, yet. Why, are you offering?"
Nick shook his head, in disbelief rather than refusal. "You're very... playful."
"So?"
"You're never playful." He knelt by the tub, and dipped one hand into the water, running it down his sire's leg to his foot.
"Maybe I like to surprise you. Or maybe I've always been like this, just not with you." Nick's hand stilled as the words cut him surprisingly deep. He continued to gaze down into the water. "I'm sorry, Nicholas. That..." LaCroix reached up and stroked a foamy hand over his son's soft hair. "that came out wrongly. I did not mean it to hurt you."
Nicholas looked up, his gaze suspicious for a moment. Then affection cleared his eyes and he smiled, accepting the apology and resuming his fingers' journey down LaCroix's right leg. As he reached the foot, he continued down, stroking nothing but the base of the tub as he neared the end. Finally his fingers clasped the chain of the plug and yanked. Water began to drain from the bath, to LaCroix's strenuous protests, but only for few measured seconds and then the plug was set back into place.

Frowning, LaCroix watched Nicholas stand and start to undress, pulling the jumper up over his head with feline grace, his muscles rippling gently just under the silken skin. Playful thoughts slipped LaCroix's mind as the erotic striptease was performed just out of his reach. Nick worked the belt of his jeans then pushed the metal studs through one by one, down the column of four, until he could slide the garment over his thighs and down his legs. He waited for LaCroix's gaze to stop caressing him before he slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his silk boxers and pushed them over his hips, letting them fall to the floor before stepping away from his clothes and towards the bathtub.

Leaning forward, LaCroix placed an almost chaste kiss on the tip of the hardening erection presented to him. Then Nick stepped into the tub, and sat in the water, straddling his vampire master. He looked down into LaCroix's face, who studiously kept his expression schooled as he filled his hands with bubbles and blew them straight into Nick's face.
"You...." Not believing LaCroix's mood, Nick flopped himself down on the body beneath him and captured his father's mouth, thrusting his tongue inside and dispensing every playful thought from LaCroix's mind, replacing them with thoughts of other types of play.

The elder folded his arms over Nick's back, crushing him to himself, plundering his son's wide-open mouth as his own was plundered. As the kiss lengthened it deepened, was drawn out into tenderness that could never have existed between them before. Nick's desires changed with the kiss, they too deepened. When LaCroix finally released his mouth, Nicholas reverently kissed his father's lips, nipping and biting his way around. "Lucien, I need...."
LaCroix nipped back, bringing one hand up to push a lock of hair away from Nicholas' face, plastering it to the side of his head with the water. All he could see and hear and smell was his Nicholas. "Anything, mon coeur, anything."
Nicholas pushed himself down, slipping over LaCroix's body in the water, until he felt his sire's erect cock nudging at his ass. "Sit up." He lifted his own body to allow LaCroix to shift back a bit. Without warning, Nick reached back and impaled himself, painfully but with infinite gentleness, on LaCroix's cock. LaCroix's yell of surprise joined with Nick's cry of self-induced pain as the elder clamped his hands around his son's hips, holding him in place for a moment to allow them both to adjust. Piercing eyes were dusted with gold as they met the incandescent gaze above.
"Nicholas...." It was a breath, a proud possession, an erotic caress. Leaning forward, Nick kissed LaCroix's lips, over his jaw to his throat, licking the sensitive skin at his neck.
"I need you," Nicholas whispered roughly. "I've always needed you. I need to take and be taken by you. Mon amant." He ran his hand over LaCroix's shoulder, around the back of his neck, pushing his fingers into the closely cropped hair. He began to move slowly, rising halfway before falling back, filling himself with his father.

The position, the sheer surface on the base of the tub, the lack of anything to give him any leverage, all made it very difficult to meet Nicholas' movements. He dropped one hand to the small of his son's back, pressing him down further, forcing him to take his sire deeper. LaCroix's other hand raked up Nick's back, coming to rest with his fingers combed into his thick gold curls. He murmured his child's name, whispering for him to do what he wanted, knowing exactly what that was, reading it in his thoughts. He could feel Nicholas' fangs scraping lightly across his throat, not breaking the skin yet, waiting for permission, needing that permission. "Do it, mon fils, complete the circle."
For a few moments more, LaCroix felt only the grazing of his son's teeth and the gentle heat of his breath. This was the most tenderness they had ever shown to one another during love-making. Usually they were anywhere from passionate to simply violent, sometimes aware of their surroundings, sometimes aware of nothing but one another. As Nicholas' fangs pierced his skin, just short of his artery, LaCroix became aware of everything; the water lapping around them, the heat of his son, above him, against him and encasing him, the coolness of the air around them, most of all his son drinking from him, his blood spilling into his mouth of his most precious creation.

Closing his eyes, Nicholas sank into the sensations. LaCroix's fangs slipped into his flesh as he increased the tempo of his movements, savouring the burning fire within him, releasing everything into his blood, into his thoughts as he connected deeply with his father. //More// LaCroix bowed to his son's desire, pulling out with a low growl and slashing deeper into the throat offered to him. Nick released LaCroix, howling as the sudden pain coursed through him, chased through his body by perfect pleasure. Again he attacked his father's throat, wanting to drown in LaCroix. The emotions surging through him were deep enough to drown in. What he was feeling went beyond desire and passion, beyond love even. A tear fell from his eye to LaCroix's shoulder. In an attempt to flee from the intensity of their blood exchange, Nick drove himself fiercely onto LaCroix's cock, hurting himself and surprising his father.

LaCroix's eyes flicked open as Nicholas pushed himself further, pulling back and re-angling himself, driving back down. The elder felt his orgasm sweeping over him, bit more deeply into his son's neck. Suddenly, unexpectedly, Nicholas was spasaming, coming in long spurts into the water, his orgasm rushing through his blood, making the elixir richer, firing LaCroix's own small death. Their joint climaxes unfurled in their shared blood, each tasting the other's, sending shivers through them both as they clung to each other, buried in one another.

The universe ceased to exist. All Nicholas knew was his father's blood flowing in his veins, the intensity of the ancient love that he was being infused with and surrounded by. He was not sure where this all-encompassing need for LaCroix had come from, but as the night had gone on, as he had talked to Schanke, feeling his father's presence close by had relaxed and comforted him. What he needed now was to be consumed by that presence, by his father's love and protection, to be enfolded into it, never to be released. This exchange, this love-making had less to do with passion, with sex, and more to do with reaffirmation and rebirth. And in return, Nicholas pushed everything he wanted and needed and felt into his own blood, making very sure that LaCroix had to read it and accept it; accept that this time, Nicholas was not looking for a way out, but a way in, a way to stay where he was at that moment.

LaCroix deposited his son on the thick, black rug in front of the open fire, leaving him alone for a moment to collect two glasses and the bottle Nicholas had left in the bathroom. When he returned, his son had shifted onto his stomach, facing the fire, his arms folded under his chin. LaCroix settled himself along side, propped up on one elbow facing Nicholas. Behind them, two tall candlesticks held six bright candles, throwing dancing shadows throughout the room. The firelight played across Nicholas' gorgeous body, giving his hair an amber shine, dancing in the deep, rich blue of his eyes. Reaching out, he slowly pushed Nick's hair up behind his ear. "You're beautiful, Nicholas. The strength of a killer, the power of immortality, the dark nature of our kind, borne by such gentility, such grace, such light. It's little wonder that I could never clear my thoughts of you."
Nick turned his head, resting his cheek on his crossed hands. "Have you always felt like this about me?"
There was no hesitation. "Of course."
For a moment, Nick's eyes held awe, before he closed them from LaCroix's gaze. "I have something to tell you. I don't know how much you already know about this, but I want to tell you." Nick looked up again, seeing LaCroix tilt his head in interest. "Ten months ago, we worked a case at the Neurological Institute. They had developed a way to flatline without harming the body, dampening the pulses from the brain. I went under, I ... killed myself, induced my own brain death. I went back to that place ... with the light." He stopped. He had watched LaCroix's face, his eyes as he had spoken, and now they had dropped away. He reached out a hand, lacing his fingers with LaCroix's in the deep rug. His father did not resist, accepting his son's gesture, but still not looking up. "The night you brought me across, I went to the same place."
"I know of the place, Nicholas." LaCroix's voice was choked. "There is a light, and a guide, and you are asked to make a choice. I went there when I was brought over. Janette went there and I called her back to me. And I know you also walked towards the light. For a while, I actually thought I had lost you to it. You took ... longer to respond than others have."
"When I returned, I again saw the guide. But this time he appeared to me in your form." LaCroix looked up then, and Nicholas was appalled to see tears in those stunning eyes. "Nat brought me back, restarted my heart... she saved my life. But after that I started having dreams. In each dream I was standing on the sand, on a beach somewhere in the sun. You were either coming towards me, or standing beside me, and you were talking to me. I could never make out what you were saying, but I always woke with a sense of warmth and peace, and a yearning to go to you. I fought it every time. I refused to give in to it, because the guide had called you 'the source of the evil within me'. After a few weeks I didn't know what to think... I was confused and then that whole thing with Serena happened and you were being your usual awkward, pain-in-the-ass self...."
"Believe me, Nicholas, if I had known how close you were, I would have acted differently." He tightened his fingers, clasping his son's hand. "I was so... happy that you were finally starting to ask me for help. I didn't quite know how to react without scaring you off. I knew that if I played arrogant, you'd fight me and keep coming back. You have to realize that all I've ever wanted to do is keep you safe, protect you as I swore to do when I brought you across, it's all any father wants from his child."
Nicholas tightened his own fingers, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm sorry. It feels as if my whole being has been missing something for so long that I haven't ever realized that it was missing. But now I've got that piece back, now I have you here, I don't ever want to lose you." He took a deep breath, gazing into the loving eyes of his father. "Was that too much?"
LaCroix chuckled softly. "Yes, Nicholas. That was way over the top." He shifted closer, leaning forward and touching his lips to the other's. "Je t'aime, mon fils. I shall always be here as long as you want me to be. And I have to confess that I have always known that a huge piece was missing from my life. Now I have you back, I'm not going to let go without a fight."

Lying before the fire, fingers entwined, the flames dancing in their eyes, they just watched one another for a long time. "How is your friend?" LaCroix inquired gently.
Nick smiled. "His name is Don Schanke, or Schank. You can address him by his name now." LaCroix nodded in amusement. "He's as well as can be expected. He's finding the pros before the cons, that at least is a good sign."
"How do you plan to train him? What are you going to teach him?"
"I was hoping that you were going to help me on that front."
"I suppose it might help if I... adopted him, so to speak?"
Nick's eyes lit up. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. I don't think either of us see Don Constantine as Father of the Year, and although you probably wouldn't award me that title either you at least can trust me to ensure that he is properly set up for eternity."
"Thank you."
"It's partially my fault this is happening anyway." He paused, shaking his head at the feelings of delight he felt on seeing Nicholas' face. "Mind you, I will only take fatherhood ... so far with Schanke. There were intimacies between myself and my other children that will not occur here."
Nick laughed at his father's roundabout way of saying he would not have sex with this particular vampire. "To be truthful, LaCroix, I'm not sure I like the idea of you being intimate with anyone but me... at least for a while."

LaCroix smiled, rolling himself over so that his body covered Nicholas' left side, his right leg hooked over Nick's left, his stomach against Nick's hip, his chest and head on Nick's back, hugging him, placing light kisses on any accessible skin. "We can't fall asleep here, Lucien."
LaCroix muttered something in French, and licked his tongue over Nicholas' shoulder blade, dragging slightly descended fangs over the pale skin. Nick sighed in utter contentment, closing his eyes, unwittingly thinking back to a time when his efforts were spent trying to cure what he was.

// Now that he had stopped taking the drug, the vampire came out in full force. Within a minute he had killed, or had at least been the cause of two men's deaths. Not that they had not deserved it. They had been the indirect cause of the death of a cop, a friend of Schanke's, and had attempted to murder him, Schanke and Nat. The city was a safer place without those men in it. Nick was determined that their deaths were not going to add to his guilt. He felt bad enough as it was.

His deliberately risky, toothy grin at Nat that evening had been out of simple relief of the pain that he had existed with for thirty six hours. But the time it took to clear the paperwork exhausted him beyond belief and he had returned home only to fall asleep on his couch for twelve hours.

He awoke with a soaring hunger more intense than anything he had felt in a very long time. Two bottles of bovine later he felt a little better. He had two hours before sunrise. He turned to lean back against the freezer and his gaze fell on the empty syringe packet on the table. Memories of pain and sickness flooded him and his features creased. He suddenly needed to get out of the loft.

The Raven was unusually quiet for the time of night, and Nick sat in his car for a long time, puzzled by the closed club. After a time he dropped his face into his hands and reached out with his mind. A moment later, he climbed out of the car and locked it, knowing with a refreshing certainty that it would be here for the day.

Nick let himself into the club and closed the doors behind him, securing them before he leaned back against them and looked up into the dim light of the bar. LaCroix was watching him, the only other person in the place. "Hello Nicholas."
The gentle tone of his father's voice stunned and choked him. "Hi," was all he could force out past the sudden constriction in his throat.
"Janette did not open tonight. She has been somewhat concerned about you and she asked me to talk to you... in a different tone to the one I used yesterday." The expression on LaCroix's face made Nick's eyebrows rise, and he pushed off the door heading cautiously for the bar.
"Janette... told you off?"
LaCroix frowned. "She told me I could have been more... fatherly."
Nick chuckled at that, shaking his head as he reached the bar and ducked behind it to pour himself a glass of human vintage. LaCroix watched as he did so, accepting a refill from his son. Nick settled himself at the end of the bar, only a foot from the other vampire. Finally, LaCroix could not resist. "Going from one extreme to the other, aren't we Nicholas?"
Nick looked up and wiggled his index finger at his father. "Ah ah, now you know what Janette said, you have to be nice to me."
LaCroix nodded glumly. If he were being honest with himself, he had no desire to torture his son any further, the boy was becoming an expert at doing that to himself. "You look a lot better than you did yesterday."
"I feel slightly better. Although I think the drug's still in my system, I keep having bouts of nausea." Nick looked up suddenly, not quite believing what he had said. "Sorry."
LaCroix shook his head. "Don't be. I... I could have been a little more... understanding perhaps."
"No, you couldn't." There was no maliciousness in Nick's voice, no accusation, simply a statement of fact. "If you'd have acted any differently yesterday I'd have been worried. Although the barbecue impression wasn't strictly necessary."
LaCroix smiled at that, watching his child closely as Nick finished off the glass and poured a second. "Hungry?"
Nick nodded sheepishly. "Yes. I was shot this morning, and with the drug it took a while to heal. I lost a lot of blood on the road, in the trunk of my car." He sighed. "It's never going to come out of the flooring in the trunk."
LaCroix gazed at him with no small measure of disbelief. "You could have bled to death and you're worried about your car?"
"I'm still here," Nick countered. "Unfortunately so are the blood stains." He finished his second glass in one long gulp. He had not realized just how hungry he was. He poured another glass, and raised it to his lips. He was prevented from drinking by LaCroix's hand settling over his. He looked up to meet his father's intense stare. For a moment he was confused, then he read the expression in LaCroix's eyes, the suggestion arcing through their bond. "I don't know...." Nick shook his head.
"Allow me this, Nicholas. Please?"
For a time, he was not sure. But he was so hungry, and he knew how much better he would feel, how alive he would feel if he allowed this. Finally he lowered the glass to the bar and nodded once.

LaCroix got to his feet and moved to stand before his son. Waiting until he saw the assent in Nicholas' eyes, LaCroix stepped a little closer. He was pleasantly startled when Nick's face turned upwards and those soft lips pressed against his, turning into a smile when the younger vampire sensed LaCroix's surprise. For a long moment they stayed like that, like teenagers experimenting with the unknown. And then LaCroix took advantage of what his son was offering, and he parted his lips, pushing his probing tongue until Nick complied and opened his own mouth, kissing LaCroix deeply. When the spell broke, Nick pulled back, smiling with an innocence he had not known for many centuries, and reached up to pull the silver pin from LaCroix's collar. He dropped it carefully to the bar as the elder's own fingers opened Nick's shirt to reveal his throat. Reverently, he pushed the white silk open, tilting his head to allow Nicholas to do the same with his black shirt. Nick stood, finally closing the remaining gap and placing his mouth to LaCroix's neck, flicking his tongue across the cool skin. Closing his eyes, he allowed the vampire free, for once rejoicing in his nature as he sunk his fangs into the pulsing artery awaiting him. The moment his father's powerful, dark blood hit the back of his mouth, Nick's hunger flared and he started to drink. Feeling his blood being taken into his son's body, he slowly bit into Nicholas' throat. They soared together, healing the pain for a while, warming the cold within them both.

LaCroix could taste the remnants of the drug in Nick's blood, but he knew his own would diffuse the impurities and free his son from his self-inflicted nightmare. Feeling his father suffuse him with love and fierce protection, Nick settled, at least for a while, into his nature. The last twenty four hours had been nothing but a blur, first of delight and then of horror, sickness and agony as the vampire had fought back. It was only at these times when he and his father joined like this, as the one being LaCroix insisted that they were, that Nick felt at one with what he was, with his true self. After the ordeal of Nat's "cure", this was what he needed.

They drank from one another, clasped together in the circle of their embrace, for a long, long time. As it had been the first time they had drunk from each other, as it was each time since, the biting and the drinking pushed them both to pleasured heights. The sensations of orgasm pulsed through them both, circling through them, carried in the elixir that was created as their blood mixed. When they finally parted, they truly were each other.

Nick grasped LaCroix's forearms to steady himself, his gold-flecked eyes locked into the other's fiery stare. With a muted sob, the son fell into his father's arms, shifting his grip to the front of LaCroix's shirt and leaning in, accepting the refuge. "How many times will we go through this, Nicholas?" the elder murmured softly. "When will you accept again?"
Against LaCroix's chest, Nick just shook his head. Finally he felt peaceful, and with that feeling came exhaustion. He did not want to argue now. He allowed his side of their link to open slightly, and hoped his father would take the hint and leave the heated discussion until tomorrow. LaCroix tightened his arms and simply stood.

When Nick eventually pulled back, LaCroix nodded in gentle understanding. "Stay?" Nick nodded; he just wanted to sleep. "Then that is all we will do, mon fils."//

Nicholas thoughts and memories were silently communicated to his father, and LaCroix stopped his nuzzling of his son, lifting his head. He too remembered his child's attempts to cure himself of his vampirism. Doctor Lambert's attempt at least had been genuine. A century and a half early, their brush with the 'resurrection doctor' had been even more dangerous. LaCroix would never forget breaking into the lab to be met by the sight of his son shackled to a slab, a sickly yellowish tube snaking from a roughly cut incision in his arm that had healed around the rubber, holding it painfully in place.

//Nicholas was barely conscious, and LaCroix had a sudden urge to batter his son senseless for causing himself and his family so much anguish. The doctor had looked up at the sound of the door opening to admit LaCroix and Janette, and he froze as he watched them descend to the basement level without using the staircase. LaCroix crossed to the wooden slab where Nicholas lay, and very gently caressed his son's hair, silently issuing a mental command for his child to wake and to find the last of his strength. Then he moved to stand behind the doctor. "What do you plan to do with him?" LaCroix inquired as calmly as possible.
"I.... He will be the jewel of my occult collection. A creature of the night, and such a ... perfect specimen." The voice shook slightly, uncertain of what this menacing stranger wanted.
"How will you keep him here?"
"I have a way to make him weak, as he is now. His blood is being mixed with a substance that dampens his condition, makes him unable to sustain himself. He will be very sick, but I can live with that. I will keep him shackled in a cell with no windows so that the sun will not claim him. He will come to depend on me for food."
LaCroix closed his eyes. As angry as he was with Nicholas, the thought of his son spending years in this madman's clutches was unbearable. When he opened them again, the ice blue had become a raging fire. "I would not allow you to treat any of our kind in that fashion, but this is my son." With nothing further, LaCroix bit savagely into the doctor's neck and drained him in a second, leaving Janette to free the waking Nicholas and to join him at the top of the staircase, where his child took his offered hand, scarcely understanding how close he had come to being a captive in this terrible place.//

"Nicholas, do you still ... if a cure was found, would you take it?"
Nick heard the depths of emotion in his father's unexpected question. He turned in LaCroix's arms, lying on his back to gaze up into the face he knew so well. Silently, he lifted his hand to stroke his fingers across the pale face, and down that sculptured neck. "I have asked myself that. At the moment, the price is too high. And I believe, in time, it will become even higher." The next moment, Nicholas found himself embraced by crushing arms, pulled up against the strong body of his relieved father. Soothing, Nick ran one hand into LaCroix's hair, the other over his arm and shoulders, down his back. "My running from you is over. My running from what we are is over. I hope some day to prove that to you."

***

Just under 770 years ago, LaCroix had been Nicholas' teacher; strict, quick to punish, quicker to reward, but always patient, and always thorough. Nick had been an avid, eager student, an excitable, lusty vampire wanting to see everything and to do everything all at once. Most of all, he wanted to learn, to please his sire, to become the best in the Community. He wanted his father to be proud of him. And LaCroix had loved him for it, had seen a joy in his unquenchable spirit that had delighted the Elder. Even after LaCroix's rape of Nicholas that night so soon after he had been brought across, and the resulting hostility, it had only taken a few weeks of gentle reassurances and tender apologies to allow the young one to settle once more in his presence.

LaCroix's ability to teach his children was legendary. In the early days, other vampires had been loath to take on any of the elder's children, a fact of which LaCroix was proud. In the thirteen hundreds, when LaCroix and Nicholas' relationship had been at its most intimate and intense, their skills were honed to perfection. They would hunt together, using each other to pinpoint their prey before attacking from different directions, one covering the actions of the other. None came close to them.

The old General dropped his head against the nearest tree as Nicholas continued to evade Schanke in this mock-up hunt. The thick snow on the ground was not helping, but LaCroix knew Nicholas was being easy on his partner, and they still were not getting anywhere. It was more difficult because LaCroix did not have the direct mental link with this new-born that he would have had if the child had been his own. There were ways of strengthening a bond between them, but neither Nick nor LaCroix really liked the idea, and Nick was sure any mention of it would have Schanke running screaming from them.

Schanke had surprised them both by attaining an excellent level of control over his hunger within a day of their arrival at the cottage. In these times the ability to hunt was not needed for survival - Nick used his old talents now to catch criminals. But he had agreed that LaCroix taught Schanke how he saw fit, and that was to include hunting. LaCroix was beginning to regret his insistence that this be one of the lessons. He lifted his forehead from the tree, sensing his son close by. A moment later Nicholas was grinning at him, leaning against the same tree. LaCroix's frustration melted away as his son stepped towards him and leaned in, pressing his lips to his father's. When his child pulled back, LaCroix imagined that his face was flushed with his activity in the cold. He had melting snow in his hair which was slowly dripping down over his temple. LaCroix placed his lips to Nicholas' face and licked one of the droplets of water. He brought his arms up around the other, hugging his precious creation of his to him as he tasted the relative warmth of Nicholas beneath the cool liquid.

Nick squirmed in LaCroix's embrace, pushing closer, burrowing into his sire's thick coat. He pushed his head up under his father's chin, tilting his face to kiss the pale throat. LaCroix moaned softly, tucking Nicholas under his chin further, tightening his embrace, gently kissing his hair. Nick slipped his arms around the firm body he was clasped to, going under LaCroix's coat, one hand on the small of his back, the other further up. As he stood clasped to the other, the younger vampire felt a small hardness pressed into his cheek, and he turned his head to find LaCroix's shirt buttons were before him. Deliberately breathing in the scent of his father he allowed the vampire change to sweep over him, tantalised by the heady proximity of this elder who could exact reactions from his body at the slightest touch, could arouse him by simply breathing on his skin. Using the tip of a needle-sharp fang, Nick cut through the cotton holding the button to the shirt, and the small disk dropped away. Smiling, he continued down to the next one.

LaCroix felt his son's breath on his skin, combined with a sudden chill as he was exposed to the air. Confused, he grasped Nicholas by his shoulders and pushed him away slightly, looking down and back up with mock anger. "What are you doing, you little demon?"
Nick glanced up with a mix of innocence and mischief; a mix LaCroix knew no one else would ever have the audacity to gaze upon him with. "I'm getting closer to you." A heartbeat later, he pushed back into the circle of his father's arms, snuggling in and continuing where he had left off. A few moments and LaCroix's shirt fell open, bereft of any fastenings. Immediately, Nicholas' tongue was upon him, licking in small swirls from the centre out, over a nipple and then crossing back to the opposite one, biting that gently. LaCroix groaned, tipping his head back and moving his fingers into Nick's snowy, damp hair. As he explored with his tongue and lips, nipping with his teeth at the points that he knew would drive LaCroix slowly insane, Nick reached down between them, expertly making light work of pushing the leather of his father's belt through the buckle and releasing it. One button and a zipper later, Nick was rewarded with a hardening phallus springing free into his palm.

LaCroix's knees threatened to give way as his son squeezed his cock firmly. He felt long, talented fingers reaching further into his trousers, down over the base of his erection to his testicles. Convulsively, his arms tightened around Nicholas' back, unable to do much else, his full attention latched onto what his beautiful son was doing to him.

Schanke leaned back against a large, sprawling tree. He could feel his hunger growling at him from within, wanting to feed. He was relived now that he seemed to have some control, to have the ability to free the vampire when it was safe to do so, even if the only things he had been able to sink his teeth into lately were forest animals. He did not seem to be able to push away the memory of his attack on Nick that evening in the alley; the richness and honeyed taste of his partner's hot blood, the energy and pleasure he gleaned from taking it into himself. He was slowly beginning to understand what Nick had been saying about gender not mattering where the bloodlust was concerned. And now part of him was wondering about blood exchange, and what the other vampire had said about his relationship with LaCroix. Sighing slightly, Schanke closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later he headed back in the direction from which he had come.

Dragging in a breath between his clenched teeth, LaCroix grasped Nicholas' shoulders and lifted him from his knees, and from the mind-blowing sucking of his master's cock. The moment Nick met LaCroix's eyes, he grinned, widening his own golden-specked gaze as he stood back slightly to unfasten his own trousers and step out of them as they fell to the snow-covered ground. "Take me, Lucien. Here. Now."
LaCroix felt his already enflamed desire leap at Nicholas' bold request. He watched as his son took his hands and moved them so that Nicholas' back was a foot or so from the tree he had originally stopped against. Drawing his sire close, the young vampire rose into the air, levitating without effort or thought. He wrapped his legs around LaCroix's waist, enjoying the surprised look that played on his master's usually stoic features. "Don't you want me, Lucien?" he rasped out, already knowing the answer. He moved closer still, clasping his thighs tightly to the other's hips, rubbing himself on the hardened length that now pressed up under his testicles. The crushing of his own cock between their bellies was becoming unbearable, and still his sire just seemed to stand there watching him. "LaCroix, please," he begged.
Nicholas' urging finally served to break the spell, and LaCroix slid his hands down to cup his son's firm buttocks, lifting him and then guiding his own phallus into the cleft. Nick moaned, his head going back, falling against the tree trunk as LaCroix pushed his cock against the tight opening to his body. The position was awkward, but they had managed in worse and it had always been worth the extra exertion. Suddenly, Nick dropped down, impaling himself, letting loose a gentle cry as LaCroix's cock was forced to penetrate him. The sharp pain stabbed into Nicholas' bowels, rising to his chest as he was filled unstoppably by his own movement. He slid down steadily until the angle allowed them no closer, and then he stopped, pulling in his breath, letting his head clear of the raw pain.

"Nicholas...." LaCroix waited, his son weightless in his arms, held to him as each embraced the other. A few moments of adjustment and Nick leaned back. He placed his hands on his father's shoulders, beginning to move up and down, clenching his internal muscles as he shifted, gripping LaCroix's cock as his lover's nails bit into his back.

Schanke stopped dead in his tracks. He had heard something, like a cry or a howl. He waited, finding infinite patience that definitely did not come from his mortal self. Several minutes passed until he was rewarded with another sound, this time a low moan of something between pleasure and pain. Changing direction slightly, he headed toward the source of this enticing noise.

Nicholas rode LaCroix with increasing abandon, rising up and throwing himself down hard, burying his sire's cock deeper within him each time. With the rapidly speeding rhythm, Nick changed his angle, driving himself harder against LaCroix's body, enabling more of the long heavy cock to penetrate. Neither thought of the cries they were allowing to break free; both too captured in the bliss of their joining to care who or what heard them. Together like this they were invincible.

The sounds became clearer, brighter as Schanke moved quickly through the trees. The snow-laden land did not slow his determined progress and he shifted with the grace of an expert, driven on by his curiosity and his hunger. Whatever was making those sounds would be eagerly fed upon, Schanke had already decided.

LaCroix was experiencing an overload to his senses. His beloved angel of a son was riding his cock with complete abandon. They were standing, thrusting together against an age-old tree in a snow-covered forest; their coats at least were masking the evidence of what their bodies were so obviously engaged in. The elder was being bombarded by the sandalwood scent of his son's intense arousal, by the coppery tang of blood sweat, by the closeness of Nicholas' throat, bared as his head rested against the tree behind him. His cock was being pummelled by his son's muscles that were gripping him hard, making each and every movement almost painfully exquisite. He could feel his orgasm rushing up to take him, to hurl him over the edge. Driving his hand between them to start pumping furiously at Nicholas' own cock, he held desperately to his son, wanting nothing more than to pull him over that edge with him.

Schanke slammed his back against the nearest tree, his senses ablaze. He had arrived at a small clearing, knowing he was at the source of the sounds which had drawn him, only to find Nick and LaCroix fucking against one of the trees further in. The sight had captured him for a moment and he had found himself unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him. Until his survival instincts had kicked in. He could hear them so clearly, just yards from where he was now hiding out of sight. From what he had learned, if either vampire had been remotely aware of anything but the other, he would have been sensed. But they seemed enraptured. Moving to the side, Schanke peered around the tree.

Nick knew he could not hold on for much longer. His fingers gripped LaCroix's shoulders so hard he was drawing blood and the scent of his master's life essence had driven him further up to the brink on which he was now poised. LaCroix's master touch on his cock balanced him on the edge, and he clenched the muscles in his rectum hard, slamming himself down, pushing LaCroix into a spiral of brilliant light. He felt his father spasm, convulsing against him, coming deep, deep inside him. A moment later, LaCroix's head came forward and he brutally buried his fangs into Nicholas' throat. Nick screamed, the ecstasy coursing through him as he came into his master's pumping hand, unable to do anything more but fall forward and sink his own teeth into his father's neck.

LaCroix's blood sang with the second orgasm at his son's bite. He reasserted his own hold in Nicholas' flesh, tearing it painfully in his desperation to have more of the honey blood he desired. He could feel his own blood being pulled from him and drunk down hungrily. His whole body started to sing with the sharing. Buried almost completely inside his son, LaCroix allowed his mind to join with Nicholas', opening their link completely, dropping his own mental barriers in a wild need to be closer to his child, to become a part of him, for Nicholas to merge with his father until they became one entity, empowered with the spirit and life blood of the other.

Nick felt he was drowning. He wanted nothing more than this. Drinking down LaCroix's blood he tasted everything that his father was. LaCroix's opening of their link stunned him momentarily before he started to lose himself in the triple penetration of his body and soul. His whole being was laid open for LaCroix to read. Profoundly touched by Nicholas' willingness to give himself over, LaCroix poured his knowledge, his thoughts, and his intense love into his blood, enabling Nicholas to take what he wanted, to take all that he needed.

Slowly, Nick knew centuries more experience than he actually had. The ways of ages long dead weaved their path into his mind, connecting with his own memories. Fleeting images passed him by too quickly to be easily translated, yet some buried themselves in his subconscious where only LaCroix would be able to find them. The intensity of the exchange deepened, joining father and son on a level that enhanced everything each was and mirrored it back to the other.

Schanke opened his eyes, seeing the world once more in a haze of red and gold. He snarled quietly as he watched the two vampires crash together, spearing each other with razor fangs, drinking from each other as if both were starving. His mind thudded with the dull roar of the bloodlust rising uncontrollably within him, the beast struggling to free itself, his hunger desperately wanting in on the action just out of reach. Finally, the beast won over his own senses and he rushed at the couple with sickening speed.

LaCroix's own howl of pain - an echo of Nick's - came moments after he was startled by his son ripping his fangs violently from his neck and letting loose a heart-stopping scream of agony. LaCroix pulled out of Nicholas, turning blazing eyes on the intruder. Schanke had crossed to them and without warning had plunged his aching teeth into Nick's upper arm. LaCroix furiously grabbed Schanke's head and tore him away from his beloved, eliciting a second yell from Nicholas, and flinging the new vampire against the next tree, watching as he crumpled to the ground. He could feel the assault of Nicholas' mangled thoughts upon his mind and hushed his panicked son, pulling him close against himself and lowering them both to the ground. LaCroix gathered his momentarily confused child into his lap, feeling him curl his body up and burrow into the embrace that surrounded him with love. The elder wrapped his long thick coat around them both, almost burying Nicholas from sight, nothing but the golden crown of his head visible to the rest of the world. He understood the reason for his son's sudden collapse. The vicious interruption of their intensely deep blood exchange had ripped one from the other as they were so closely entwining their very selves. The pain had wrenched them apart, and buried so deep in strange thoughts and memories not his own, Nicholas had been left flailing, falling in the sudden void that scant moments before had been a joining of them both.

As Nicholas began to calm, he sat up slightly, his head poking almost comically from the confines of LaCroix's coat. He blinked in the relative brightness of the moonlight and looked up at his father. "C'est mal." LaCroix nodded, understanding shining clearly in his eyes, and stroked a gentle hand over Nicholas' hair.
"Es tu bien?"
Nick nodded uncertainly and looked about to find the perpetrator of the attack. He groaned when he saw Schanke starting to rise from the dazed state the unexpected flight had left him with. Glancing back at LaCroix, he knew that his position and need for closeness was the only thing standing between Schanke and a quick death. LaCroix had killed for less. Schanke's first attack on Nick, back in the alley in Toronto, had been understandable; he had been hurt, shocked by his own reaction to the burning sunlight, and he had desperately needed to feed. But this... this would not go unpunished by LaCroix. "Let me handle it?" Nick asked his father quietly.
"Attacking you is unforgivable."
"Lucien, please? He may have had reason."
LaCroix's eyes shone ochre as he glared at Schanke over Nick's head. He was fuming, his anger calling out for a reaction to the liberty this young whelp had taken with his son. But he could feel the pressure of Nicholas' plea in his mind. "Any other, mon fils...."
"I know."
LaCroix took a deep breath simply to calm himself, and settled his gaze back on Nick. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm sure." He touched his lips to LaCroix's. "We'll meet you back at the cottage and I will ensure that he gives you a full apology."
LaCroix nodded and once Nick had pulled his trousers back on, he unwrapped himself from around his son. "I will go and see what other pleasures this forest has to offer," he murmured. "Although none will come close to you, amant."

After watching LaCroix disappear into the trees, Nick moved swiftly to Schanke who still looked fairly dazed and confused. "That could have earned you a life-expectancy of about twelve seconds," he muttered as he neared his partner.
Schanke looked up, shaking his head as Nick settled beside him. "I am so sorry... I don't know what came over me.... Is he mad?"
"Yes. Many vampires have died for less."
"Man... I could hear things. I thought it was an animal. I tracked the sounds and when I saw you two...." He looked up. "Sorry, Nick. Did I hurt you?"
"The injury has healed, but you surprised me. Attacking a vampire in mid blood-exchange is highly dangerous and not recommended. You're lucky he didn't break your neck the moment you bit me."
"I am really sorry."
Nick nodded, reaching out to touch his partner's arm. "Don't do it again."
"No."
"And he will require a full and resounding apology when you see him."
"Yes." Nick could not help but smile.
"So... do I take it that you're hungry?"
Schanke thought about that. His collision with the tree had set the hunger back slightly, but now he could no longer feel any after-effects of cracking his head against the wood, he was beginning to feel the approach of the bloodlust. "I think so."
Nick stood and helped Schanke to his feet. "LaCroix will take you hunting tomorrow night if you want. Until then, the bottled stuff really is quite acceptable. And it can be warmed in the mircowave."
Schanke nodded as they headed back to the cottage.

***

There were still a few hours before dawn. LaCroix was not back but Nick could feel his father indulging himself in the pleasures of hunting. Schanke was relaxing on the sofa, feet up on the table, his second bottle of warmed blood hanging from his fingers. Nicholas himself was lounging in the bath, rediscovering what his father had found so delightful the previous morning. Sinking into the sandalwood bubbles, he drifted off, relaxing with the warmth and the aroma, letting his exhausted body restore itself.

Having sated his considerable hunger and calmed the angry beast within him, LaCroix returned to the cottage, reaching out through their bond to sense the bright, relaxed presence of his son. Obviously their intense blood exchange had not caused any undue distress, and although they would have talk about it, for tonight he was content to let Nicholas rest. Entering the cottage, he shook the snow from his coat and deposited it one of the hooks by the door. As he walked passed the opening into the lounge, he saw Schanke stand from the sofa. LaCroix stopped, and for a while the two gazed at each other. "I'm sorry, LaCroix."
The elder was silent for a moment, and then nodded, continuing on into the kitchen to find a wineglass. Kicking off his shoes he headed back into the lounge to sit beside the newest member of his family. As he held up the glass, Schanke immediately took the hint and poured. "You have to understand that Nicholas is the most precious thing in the world to me."
Schanke nodded, even though the words had provoked questions in his mind, he thought it best to keep them to himself for now. "I have apologized to him too. I honestly don't understand what happened."
LaCroix allowed himself to let go of the remnants of his anger. Nicholas had remained open to him all night, and his child's bright presence in his mind had soothed him further still. Under different circumstances Schanke would have had his throat torn out for attacking Nicholas as he had. But it was now in the past, and he had been impressed by the young one's forthright apology. "You are still only a few days old," he conceded. "Nicholas had no control for several weeks. And not just of the bloodlust." He looked sideways at Schanke's expression. "There is more to this immortal existence than drinking blood and avoiding sunlight. As you witnessed in the forest, vampires often fuck with wild abandon and without a care for who sees or hears them."
Schanke tore his wide-eyed stare away from the elder. Did he really just say that? "I... err... I didn't mean to... to stand and watch...." He closed his mouth, unsure about this, despite the warmth that flooded through him as the memories rushed back. The fear of LaCroix's retaliation had subdued him from the moment his fangs had been torn out of Nick's flesh, but now his life seemed in no danger he could not stop the flashbacks; the sight of the two together, the heat as the lust had driven through him causing the loss of reason that had resulted in him burying his teeth into his partner's arm and tasting their mingled orgasms for one unforgettable moment.

He pulled himself back from his mind, glancing up to find LaCroix watching him with some amusement. "We aroused you," he stated simply, smiling some indistinct smile Schanke might have associated with a predator who has captured his prey and was taking his time with it before lunch.
"..." Schanke's mouth opened and he snapped it shut, taking a gulp of the liquid from the glass in his shaking hands.
"It's all right. There's no need for shame or embarrassment. Nicholas has only to be in the same room to arouse me. I dare say that we do look ... stunning together." Schanke kept absolutely still. LaCroix smiled that smile again and turned himself, leaning back into the corner of the couch, stretching his arm out across the low back, sipping from his own glass. He studied the other vampire for a short while, and then decided that this particular conversation could wait. He schooled his expression before changing the subject. "I believe you have a family."
Schanke visibly relaxed, although the pain that flashed in his features was all too obvious. He nodded. "A wife and daughter."
"You understand that you will never be able to see them again." The gentleness in the spoken tone surprised Schanke; this sudden change was unexpected. He found he could only nod. "We can arrange to fake your death, and have you leave Toronto. That way your family will be looked after, financially at least."
Schanke nodded again; the subject swing had really thrown him, as well as having the effect of jostling his emotions to the point of turmoil. He could do nothing to change what had happened. He had thought long about Myra and Jenny, and had already concluded that maybe faking his own death was the best way. The thought of simply leaving her, facing her and telling her that he was never coming back, was too painful and almost impossible to bear. He knew how she would hurt believing him dead, but the grief would pass, Jenny would have all her memories intact without bitterness. Was that not the point to touching the lives of others? To leave them with only the good memories and with no bitter feelings to taint the past? Somehow, he understood that he had to go on, that he could not cling to what had been before. He felt almost as if he were dead, and that this was an afterlife - eternity. Maybe one day, when Jenny was older, Myra could join him here. Maybe he would simply move on and never return. Another, new pang of sorrow pulled at his heart. Nick. They had just started to get to know one another. Maybe they could remain together somehow.... Maybe sometime in the future. He looked across at LaCroix, all fear gone from him. "You're right. That would be the best way."

Schanke shook himself from his thoughts. When he stayed too long with his memories of Myra and Jenny, it started to hurt too much. Change the subject, his quiet inner voice told him. He smiled as he too made himself more comfortable. "What was Nick like, as a kid?"
LaCroix actually chuckled at the description. "We prefer the term 'fledgling'. Nicholas was... insatiable in everything. He lusted to know all of what we were, of what he had become. Even after our rather... difficult beginnings, he respected the new relationship that was between us then, he absorbed all he could learn and he learnt quickly and well, lending his own twist to many traditions and skills and in time teaching me new tricks. He was the most accomplished hunter I had ever seen, adding his own wit to everything I could teach him." LaCroix's eyes glittered. "He is everything I knew he would be."
Schanke felt warmed by the obvious pride in LaCroix's voice. "Do you have many children?"
"I have made countless vampires over the centuries for a great many different reasons. But... I do not regard them all as my children." He sipped at his drink. "Janette is my eldest, Nicholas is my youngest."
Schanke's eyes widened. "Nick was the last vampire you brought over?"
LaCroix shook his head. "As I said, I do not see all vampires that I make as my children. Your father, for example, is the last vampire I brought over, and I did that as a favour to Nicholas. But after imparting a few basic rules I left him, believing that he could handle himself." A sad expression crossed his stark features. "When I first had Nicholas he was all I could ask for in a son. With Janette there I had a family, and after she parted company from us, Nicholas and I were companions." LaCroix's voice quieted, as if he were speaking only to himself. "When he began to turn from me, from our nature, he brought me so much pain I could not stand the thought of raising another fledgling." He looked back at Schanke. "Since then I have expended all my energies in trying to persuade Nicholas to give up his search for mortality and his crushing of his vampire nature. Now I seem to have succeeded in getting my son back... I am determined to make up for the time we've lost. I believe I would like to get to know him again."

***

LaCroix had woken to an empty space in the bed beside him. A cold chill ran down his spine at the memories of centuries of nights awoken to alone. He shook the feelings, preventing them from squeezing the warmth from his heart, and swung himself out from under the sheet. His robe was in a graceful pile on the floor where Nicholas had dropped it that morning. He smiled as he pulled it on and tied the deep crimson sash around his waist. This silk robe was his favourite, and thus getting it off his son's back was usually a difficult task. Opening the bedroom door, LaCroix's soul was settled by the soft sound of piano playing coming from the lounge. He paused in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of the bloodwine, and then headed into the lounge.

Candles held high on iron candelabras lit the room. Outside the unshuttered windows the evening moon was low in the sky, casting shadows against the amber glows of the flickering flames. Nicholas was sitting at the piano, fingers gliding sensuously over the keys. He wore a white silk shirt, open, over a pair of black silk trousers that the elder recognized as his own. LaCroix smiled as he stepped into the room, his eyes gliding over Nick's gently rippling chest and taut belly. He heard the final notes of the Beethoven piece that his child had always loved, and paused, hoping he would choose to start another piece. His next choice was darker, and unknown to LaCroix. The elder's interest was piqued when Nicholas began to sing, quiet and measured, the strange lyrics that went with the music.

"Never get angry at the stupid people
Though I go crazy at the dullness of my life
Sit and I stare into a dusty window
An empty face stares back at me and cries - "

LaCroix stepped further into the room, sipping from his glass.

"My vulnerability rushes up to me and I'm left here
The rebel without a cause
The deeper I delve into
The consciousness of me and you - "

LaCroix stepped up to the piano, meeting Nicholas' eyes as he looked up, but continued to sing.

" - The harder it gets
I need to close my eyes
What hurts me most
I'll never see your eyes again."

Nick continued to play the music, yet he stopped singing, smiling at his father.
"You do have a beautiful voice, mon coeur, I hadn't realized...." Nick tilted his head in thanks. "What is the song?"
"It's a recent piece, a pop song. 'Piano Song'."
"It's beautiful." Nick ended the music, and LaCroix moved to sit beside his son on the stool.
"I used to play it... the words used to mean something." He sighed wistfully, smiling softly. "Now they just serve to remind me of what I could have lost for eternity." His fingers lay on the ivory keys, not moving. Next to him, their arms barely touching, his sire sat unmoving, save to bring the glass in his far hand to his lips. After a long moment, LaCroix placed his glass onto the piano top and reached his left hand up and under Nick's right arm, momentarily brushing his son's fingers before placing his own long digits onto the piano keys, stroking them lightly.
"It has been so long, Nicholas. When was our last duet?"
Nick gazed at his father's pale fingers. "This morning, Lucien. And we were in perfect harmony." He felt his master's warm response through the link that bonded them.
"That wasn't quite what I meant, mon amant." LaCroix's fingers began a quiet, smooth playing. "You had a restless sleep, mon cher?"
Nicholas easily took up the familiar duet. "I had a nightmare."
"Do you wish to tell me about it?" LaCroix's voice was deceptively light.
"I dreamt that I was trapped in a burning house. I couldn't escape, each time I thought I had found an exit, it disappeared." Nick kept his voice level with some difficulty. "I finally flew up through the flames, hoping to get out, but I couldn't... they just went on and on and I could feel myself starting to burn." Nicholas focused his thoughts on the music.
LaCroix reached for a note, touching his son's fingers deliberately. "You should have woken me."
"Why should I have disturbed you?" The duet started to flow, taking on a life of its own, winding between father and son.
"To allow me a chance to comfort you."
Nick's smile danced between them, sensed rather than seen as they played together. "I'm not a child, Lucien."
"You are *my* child, Nicholas." Although he had heard the words a thousand times or more, this time they sounded different, less a statement of possession, more a claim of love and affection. "Before I had you, I did not truly know what it meant to have a son. Now, I finally feel that I have a friend in you, a brother. A companion."
Nick paused in his playing, breaking the ebb of notes to gaze up at his father. "You have a son in me, Lucien ... Sire." He heard LaCroix's sharp intake of breath at the word. Yet the music, now a solo, continued unbroken.
"You have not called me that since those first years."
"It's no longer threatening." was Nick's simple reply.
"Is that why you have dropped your mental defences, as well as your emotional ones?" The softness of his voice touched Nick. He thought for a time resuming, as he did so, his part of the duet.
"How often did I use our link to call to you when I was in danger or when I needed you? Not once did I consider that you may sometimes need me just as desperately." He lifted his right hand from the keyboard, running his forefinger up his lover's arm before again joining the piece. "I enjoy feeling you there. I have always known, always been aware of your presence within my mind, of your ... cradling of me." He felt LaCroix's hum of compassion at the description. "You know that I resented you being there when I turned from you, I wanted to shut you out of every part of my existance. I couldn't ... not completely. When we began to talk again, when you started to become a true part of my life again.... I can't honestly explain it. It isn't lonely with you there. I'm less afraid with you there."

The music faded from their ears as both stopped playing in unison. The younger's fingers remained still on the keys as LaCroix covered them with his own. Then Nick's hands were being taken, held, moved from the piano and used to turn him to his sire. "I'm not asking for your vulnerability, or for your submission. I know how strong you can be, I have tasted your own lust for life, your passion and desire, many times. It is not a detail that is easily forgotten. I want your light with me, your companionship at my side. I wish to teach you everything that I was taught. The deeper darkness, the higher pleasures, more than anything we have touched."
Nick looked up, meeting LaCroix's questing eyes. "Was that what I tasted last night, outside?"
"Yes. I'm sorry... you were never supposed to meet it in that way; unexpectedly. I know that you have ideas, I know that you have learnt of some of what I'm speaking of. But last night was so intense, you were so open to me, I wanted to show you the same within myself. I am sorry, I know I disturbed you."
Nick shook his head slightly. "It was so mixed in with what I can always, have always been able to taste in your blood. Whatever else I read there, it was still you. There isn't another that I trust with as implicitly as I trust you."
LaCroix felt his own cold heart glow at his son's words. Sometimes, more than others, it was difficult to believe that it could be like this between them after all the viciousness and hatred that had passed before. He leaned forward and dropped a chaste kiss to Nick's lips then stood, moving from the piano stool to the couch. Once settled into a corner, he rested his arm across the back, his eyes inviting his companion to join him and smiling, Nick went to settle himself against his master. Once they were both comfortably ensconced on the couch, LaCroix tightened his arms around his son. "Maybe, Nicholas, you could accept some advice?" he murmured softly.
The change in his tone was not lost on Nick. "Of course."
"I had a talk with young Schanke this morning and I think we came to an agreement about how to end his mortal existence in the eyes of his family and friends." Nick sighed gently, knowing that this had to be discussed but recognizing the pain that so many people were going to suffer, understanding how many lives they were about to shatter. LaCroix could read the thoughts and the sadness flowing through his son; for once he believed that he understood. He released one of the hands that he held and ran his fingers up Nick's arm, over his shoulder to touch the sensitive skin of the side of his throat, pushing up into the soft blond hair at the nape of his child's neck. "I know, mon fils, but we can only make the best of a bad situation."
Nick nodded, lifting his head to meet his father's concerned gaze. "What was the decision?"
"We shall arrange a car accident after a police car chase. His family already believe that he is out of town investigating a crime. With a little professional help we will be able to produce a body and the required false records. You know that we have specialists in this field. His family will be provided for and after a period of grieving they will be left with untainted memories of him. Jenny will grow up proud of her father and Myra will maybe remarry in time. It is the best way." Nick was amazed at the compassion being shown by his ancient sire. He let the amazement show clear in his expression. LaCroix raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"I was just thinking how different your treatment of me was when I was Schanke's age."
The elder's eyes darkened. "Times were very different, Nicholas. You know that."
Nick turned his head and smiled up, kissing LaCroix's chin as it was the only part of his father he could comfortably reach. "I think your suggestion is the right way to go."
"Good. I shall make the arrangements tonight. Tomorrow we can return to Toronto, and you and Schanke should pay Aristotle a visit."
Nick nodded, uncertain what to do about that. Schank was far too young to be left to fend for himself. He leaned his head back against LaCroix's shoulder and closed his eyes. LaCroix waited, certain that Nicholas was going to say something. But a few minutes later he heard his son's breathing slow and then stop. The elder rolled his eyes, touching his lips to the blond hair pressed against him. He settled back, happy just to feel his beloved resting trusting in his arms.

Schanke rose an hour or so later, having slept restlessly. His first port of call was the kitchen for breakfast - the first meal of the day was still the most important. He remembered Myra always saying that to he and Jenny. He had dreamt of Myra. She had been standing in the sunlight next to his black marble gravestone. In her fingers she held a single, blood-red rose, its thorns pricking her flesh, causing droplets of blood to fall to his fresh grave. There was no emotion in the dream, just a kind of all-encompassing peace. He knew he was doing the right thing considering the few choices he had.

Schanke padded through to the lounge and stopped in mid-stride, his face breaking into a grin at the sight that met him. LaCroix was watching him with only the barest hint of a smile and the air of someone guarding something of priceless value. Wrapped in LaCroix's arms, head lolled against the elder's shoulder, legs curled, his own hands crossed on his chest, Nick was sleeping soundly. He looked like an angel in his white silk shirt and loose trousers, his blonde hair a mess. Schanke gazed at the pair for a short while, and at sometime in those moments he saw what it meant for Nicholas to call LaCroix 'father', and for LaCroix to call the other 'son'. He knew that he would never have this with his own vampire master; and bringing the image of Thomas Constantine to mind he realized that it was not something he really wanted. He understood that the attraction between Nick and LaCroix threaded back through the ages to the moment they first laid eyes upon one another in a castle in Paris.

Blinking his thoughts away, he noticed LaCroix inviting him to take a seat, and he moved to sit at the end of the couch. "Sleep well?" the elder inquired quietly, and Schanke nodded.
Looking the young vampire over once, LaCroix could tell that he was lying, but he could not bring himself to make an issue of it. One day, but not now. Now was far too warm and comfortable. "It's today, isn't it?" Schanke kept his voice at a whisper, knowing LaCroix would hear him perfectly.
"Yes. I will make all the necessary arrangements and Nicholas will then deal with the aftermath. You need not do anything."
"That easy, huh?"
LaCroix nodded. "Death is a mere inconvenience. Once this is done, you can enjoy your new life. Don't carry any regrets with you, let them go. And I know these days it is the fashion for new vampires to attend their own funerals but I do not recommend it. It is a sentimental gesture, nothing more. There is nothing to be gained from it but a pain that will do nothing but weigh you down. Let it go now, it was over the moment Constantine attacked you. Let it be."
Schanke nodded. He had had thoughts of attending, but after his dream, he had not been sure. He decided to do as LaCroix suggested. He took a few sips from his mug, relishing in the strength he could feel flowing into his body, like the morning's first cup of coffee. As he drank, their sleeping companion muttered something to himself and opened his eyes.

Nick gazed at Schanke for a moment, confused. Then he realized where he was and tilted his head to smile apologetically at his father. "Oops."
"'Oops', Nicholas? Is that all you can say after using me as your pillow for an hour?" But LaCroix's tone was light, and Nick merely grinned and nodded, turning back and catching sight of the mug in Schanke's hands. He looked imploring at his partner.
"Ooh, could you get me one of those?"
Schanke raised his eyebrows. "What did your last slave die of, Knight?"
"Exhaustion. Please...." Schanke shook his head and clambered to his feet, putting his own drink on the nearby table.
"LaCroix?"
LaCroix nodded. "Thank you."

As Schanke disappeared into the kitchen at the end of the short hallway, Nick turned again to his sire and this time LaCroix tipped his own head down to meet his son's kiss. They lingered there, Nick flicking his tongue along LaCroix's lips, LaCroix responding by catching the teasing muscle in his teeth and biting down gently. Nick pulled back grinning. "You make a very comfortable pillow."
"Ummm. Do not make a habit out of using me this way, Nicholas."
"You don't mean that."
"Maybe not, but I have to maintain some sort of front, do I not?"
Nick looked back as Schanke returned and handed them each a mug. "Thanks, Partner."
"I won't say anytime."
LaCroix snorted his agreement. "He does take advantage, wouldn't you agree."
Schanke sat back down, nodded adamantly. "Definitely."

Quiet enveloped them for a time until LaCroix broached the subject that represented the final step in Schanke's new life. "We have to decide where you are going to live." He told the young vampire. "Wherever you decide to go, Nicholas and I will go with you, for a month or so. After that we shall decide whether to stay, or to return to Toronto." When he finished, LaCroix glanced down at his son, but although there had been no discussion of this, there was no surprise from Nicholas; it was what he had been expecting, the only viable option.
Schanke nodded. He had already realized that he would be unable to stay in Toronto, and the only thing that might have kept him there was the friendship he had finally discovered with his partner. "I'd like to go to England," he murmured. "I've never been and I think it's somewhere I could settle for a few years."
LaCroix nodded. "England it is, I shall contact Aristotle. Or maybe you should, mon fils, explain the situation. He has never liked me." Nick chuckled.
"That's because I have made a habit of relaying stories of your fathering to him over the ages."
"Well, maybe you could continue that tradition when you speak to him. That way the stubborn vampire might start to cooperate when I require information."

Schanke listened to the exchange, the familiarity and banter between the other two giving him high hopes for his own future. Eternity as a vampire would not be dark and bloody, it was not an age of coffins and damp soil and always running from mortals determined to drive a fence stake through your chest with a tent mallet. Vampires lived well, and he would take all the advice he could get when it came to financial matters. He could do anything, go anywhere, and with LaCroix's tutoring he could learn quickly. Tonight his life would change for the rest of eternity. Tonight he would die to be reborn. He looked at Nick and LaCroix, and finally accepted all the new feelings that had been pouring into him over the last few days, from that moment he had bitten Nick, drank the honey blood that ran through the blonde vampire's veins. He could not wipe the images of the previous night from his mind; now he knew what Nick really was he could see something in his partner, could see what he had watched others - women and men - see in him and never recognized. It did not matter any more. The rules and stereotypes of mortal men no longer applied to him, there was a new code to live by now.

Schanke's train of thought was disturbed by Nick stretching his legs out, putting his feet up on his friend's thighs. He looked up and gave the cheeky blonde vampire a mock scowl. His partner's deep blue gaze was watching him closely, obviously expecting some sort of emotional breakdown that just was not coming. He was past that. Carefully, Schanke wrapped his free hand around Nick's left foot, rubbing the sole slightly with his thumb, gauging any reaction from either vampire. When none was forthcoming, except a genuine smile crossing Nick's face, he put his mug down on the table behind them and deepened the touch, massaging both feet.

Nick did not move when Schanke took a tentative hold of his foot. He mentally reached out to LaCroix, ensuring his sire was all right with what they both knew was happening. LaCroix's reply was a strong wave of possession and love, but it carried an undercurrent of understanding. His embrace tightened, hugging his son closer. As far as LaCroix was concerned, too many had already taken advantage of his Nicholas, too many had already hurt him; himself included.

Schanke shifted one hand, stroking his fingers over Nick's ankle in an intimate caress that sent a sudden shiver up the blonde vampire's spine. LaCroix felt its echo and smiled, stroking his fingers over his son's arm. "Nous lui excitons."
Nick kept his expression schooled, but he expressed his slight surprise that his master would be allowing this. //vraiment?//
"Oui, dernier nuit."
Schanke watched them carefully. Somehow he knew Nick's side of the conversation that had passed in silence. His partner smiled at him now in a manner that aroused the beast within him. Whatever was happening was, for now, being allowed. Schanke was not sure what he wanted, only that the scant drops of Nick's blood, tasted as two orgasms thrummed through him, was an elixir he could live on for the rest of eternity. Was it just Nick? Or did orgasm change the blood somehow, add something to it? Shifting his eyes to LaCroix's, Schanke bent his head and tongued Nick's toes lightly, popping it into his mouth when LaCroix showed no outward signs of objection. He glanced at Nick as he pulled up slightly and parted his lips deliberately, letting his fangs drop.

Nick watched, keeping his mind wide open to LaCroix for any signs that the elder was disturbed by these events. But LaCroix was still simply amused by the curiosity of his grandchild, and although his hands and arms remained on and around Nicholas, he did not try to stop Schanke as the youngest bent his head once more and pushed his tight lips over Nick's big toe. A moment later, Nick felt a needle-sharp canine slip into him and his blood being sucked out. Schanke only wanted a taste, and Nick allowed it, sharing the sudden sensation with his master. When his partner pulled back, Nick locked his deep blue gaze with the red one. "What do you want to do?" His voice, deeper and rougher than usual, spoke to the vampire Schanke had so recently become, the curious, randy spirit of a fledgling.
He was answered in kind. "I want to taste you."
"You just have."
But Schanke shook his head. "After. I want to know the difference, I want more of what I took last night."

Nick threw a backward glance at his master, and saw the slight hardening of his expression. He knew LaCroix would never allow a full sexual encounter between he and Schanke, unless Nick insisted and it was not something he wanted particularly. But a little experimentation never hurt anyone, and Nick knew he could give Schanke what he wanted without upsetting LaCroix. Gracefully he sat up, swinging his legs off Schanke's and over the edge of the couch. LaCroix released Nick from his embrace, yet kept his hands on his son's body, reading the thoughts and ideas that were flowing between them. He was both comforted and excited by the fact that Nick was doing only what his father felt comfortable with, and he knew that the moment he asked Nicholas to stop, he would stop.

Nick felt his father's smile as he himself reached for Schanke. //Je t'aime, mon coeur//
//Je t'aime Nichola//
Nick ran light fingertips down Schanke's forearm as his partner leaned into him. "Nick...?"
"Trust me. Just go with it."
Nick felt LaCroix's hand run down the length of his back as he met Schanke's mouth with his own, coaxing a hesitant kiss from his partner. Allowing his fangs to drop slowly, Nick scraped one sharp tooth across his own bottom lip, allowing the other to taste him. The change in Schanke was swift and violent. He deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into his partner's mouth, at the same time bringing one hand up to Nick's shoulder; thought slipped from his mind as the bloodlust sharpened.

LaCroix leaned forward, sitting with his front flush to his son's back. Brushing Nicholas' hair away from his neck, he ran the tip of his tongue down the side of his son's cool neck. Schanke's fingers traced their way across Nick's shoulder to his throat, running down lightly over his windpipe, the light touch eliciting a gentle moan from Nicholas.

Maintaining the mental contact with his son, LaCroix knelt up behind him, moving his powerful hands up the silk-clad arms that were holding the third vampire in place. Dipping his fingers down until they touched his child's chilled skin, the elder hooked the open sides of Nick's shirt and pulled them up and back from his shoulders, dropping it to rest a little way down his arms, revealing his broad shoulders and smooth chest.

Schanke suddenly found his partner's body accessible to his roaming hands. He found his courage increasing each moment he was allowed to investigate. Nick's skin, although cool, was like satin to the touch, the tiny hairs tickled Schanke's sensitized fingertips. Following his instincts, Schanke ended the kiss and started down the column of Nick's neck. From the back, LaCroix nipped his way over his son's shoulders, his hands holding his upper arms, preventing him from doing anything but enjoy the duel exploration of his body. LaCroix shivered as Nick's head came back and he moaned softly. "Mon fils...."

At the whisper of his father's voice, Nick turned his head, his lips finding LaCroix's as Schanke pushed him back against the elder in his need to know better the body being offered to him. As Schanke's lips released a second hard nipple to return to Nick's inviting mouth, LaCroix resumed his gentle scraping of his son's back, pushing the silk shirt down further to reveal more of the intoxicating flesh.

Nicholas could barely think as the expert ministrations of his father behind him and the adventurous explorations of his partner in front started to overwhelm him. He had not expected LaCroix to allow Schanke this much, let alone to join in, and the realisation of where this was going aroused him even more, causing his hardening erection to become almost painfully trapped in his loose trousers. Schanke's wandering hands stroked his chest, roaming lower until his wrist abruptly brushed over Nick's straining cock. Nick groaned into Schanke's mouth as his partner hesitated at the utter maleness of the evident erection.

Nick felt Schanke's sudden nervousness and deepened their kiss, bringing him easily back into the moment as he felt LaCroix's hands moving over his lower back and forward, grasping his hips momentarily before coming around to unfasten the constraining trousers. Nick felt his father gently touching his mind as long fingers wrapped themselves around his freed cock. The sudden pressure forced a growl from his throat. He answered LaCroix's mental touch with a suggestion of his own. The moment the thought was transferred to his father, LaCroix started to truly burn for his son. Reaching between them, LaCroix unbelted his robe, allowing the expensive material to fall open before shifting closer to Nick's back, lifting his child slightly until his own hardening cock was nestled between Nicholas's tight buttocks. Nick moaned again, pulling back from Schanke's kiss to meet his sire in a tongue-tangling collision of lips and fangs.

Schanke sat back for a moment, watching the two older vampires kiss each other with the wild abandon that seemed to be natural between them. His breathing was rapid, more from habit than need, and he felt unashamedly hard. He placed his palms flat on his partner's thighs and pulled one leg up, forcing Nick to bend his knee up onto the seat, giving better access to his cock. Leaning on his palms, Schanke tilted his head to kiss Nick's exposed throat.

Gathering his wits for a moment, Nick reached forward and maneuvered Schanke's legs as his partner had done for him. Then he stretched his own right leg around Schanke, using his innate strength to pull Schanke close to him, before reaching down to unfasten his trousers and release his rampant, almost desperate erection. Schanke gasped as his cock was taken into his partner's skilled hands, and when Nick started to grip and release him, pumping in a slow, building rhythm, the last of his mortal hang-ups left him and he reached down, his fingers meeting LaCroix's on Nick's cock.

Nick cried out when another pressure was applied to his erection, dropping his head back and opening his eyes to stare into the golden gaze of his father. LaCroix's mind was erupting with pleasure and arousal, wiped clean of any jealousies or rights of possession as his son's movements applied exquisite pressure to his aching cock. Nick smiled, resuming his passionate kiss with LaCroix, bringing one hand up from Schanke's cock to wrap it around his head, holding him in place where his mouth was exploring his partner's neck. Nick broke the kiss once more to twist into Schanke's wet caresses and hiss "bite" into his ear. The moment he dove back into LaCroix's mouth, Schanke's fangs penetrated his throat. Nick screamed in orgasm, spurting over the joined hands masturbating him with male skill. Twisting his head he unwittingly ripped the opening in his throat on Schanke's fangs to enable his own bite into LaCroix's throat as he pushed his orgasm through their link causing LaCroix to thrust up once between his buttocks before coming hard against him. The third bite, LaCroix's fangs sinking into Schanke's wrist, triggered a circle of orgasm starting in Schanke's cock, flowing into Nick and through him to LaCroix.

The three spasamed together for an age, drinking from and providing for one another. Schanke felt that he could drown in the honey blood of his partner, tasting too much to translate, but being hit hard by the strength of Nick's love and desire for LaCroix. Nicholas exalted in the state of bliss he was drinking down from his father, sending his response that LaCroix would usually read automatically in his blood through their bond. LaCroix, being drunk from by his beloved son, drinking from his grandson and tasting Nicholas there, still received the connection thankfully.

LaCroix pulled out first, quickly followed by Nicholas, who licked his father's wounds for a moment until they healed. Very gently, LaCroix reached around and pulled Schanke from Nick's throat with no resistance. Schanke sat back, his breathing slowing, his eyes returning quickly to their usual colouring. When he looked up at LaCroix, the elder's expression was calm and reassuring. He met Nick's sky blue gaze to see his partner smiling at him.

LaCroix shifted back into the corner of the couch, pulling Nicholas into his arms, and as he went, Nick pulled Schanke down to rest upon him, sliding an arm around the younger vampire's back as he settled down in a way he never had before. //Mon coeur, mon desir//
//Je t'aime mon pere, toujours et pour eternite//
//Nichola//
Nicholas settled back further, trying to mould himself to the shape of LaCroix's body. He dropped his head back against LaCroix's shoulder, feeling Schanke move against him. His partner's head rose from where he had rested against Nick's hip. Nick brushed his hand softly against his partner's cheek, smiling with open affection. "You okay?"
Schanke nodded. Okay did not seem to touch the surface of what he was feeling. Honoured, treasured, loved, and above all more sated and contented than he could ever remember feeling. "There aren't words," he told them finally.
LaCroix nodded once, pleased with his grandson. "There are more pleasures in this new life than you will ever be able to count, Don. Ensure you sample them all before making any decisions." Satisfied with his own strange statement, LaCroix rested his face against his son's hair and closed his eyes. "We have much to do tonight."
"In a little while, Lucien." Nick murmured softly, letting his own eyes close, loving the warmth of his father supporting and holding him, and the weight of his partner resting easily on his legs and abdomen. He just wanted to enjoy this closeness a while longer. After all, did they not have all the time in the world? He heard LaCroix's gentle amusement in his mind.
//Now you start to listen to me!//

fin chapter two

Chapter Three