Piercing the Darkness
        Part Four
        by Barb Vainio

        This is a new Round Robin that is being posted to the FK Vals list.
        Standard disclaimers apply.

        This is part 4 of the new FK Vals Round Robin. It is labeled "Adult" due to language, child sexual abuse and other sexual references and activity.
        Permission to archive at the FK Vals site.

        Lucien LaCroix and Natalie Lambert do not belong to me and I have no expectation to profit from their use.

        ***************************************************************

        "Well, Reggie?"

        The way she pronounced his name, with a heavily rolled "r" and almost sibilantly softened "g", would have given him an instant hard-on - if it weren't for the tone of voice that froze his balls until they felt like they'd shatter with only a touch. He willed his hand to stay at his side instead of reaching to rub some life back into his crotch. He wasn't going to give this...woman any more ammunition than she already had; he didn't want to hear how cold-blooded her laugh would be. He wondered what she looked like; she had managed to maneuver him so that all he saw was her silhouette. Her voice made him think of long dark hair, voluptuous tits and red pouting lips - but then that's what he always thought of.

        Her impatience snaked toward him like a living thing and he hurried to gather his thoughts and answer her.

        "I - I -"

        It was like she'd frozen his tongue along with his balls. He gulped a huge draft of air and tried to bring some moisture to his mouth. He never had this kind of trouble talking to a...female. He was considered something of a lady's man in certain circles. But this...this...

        Jeez, he couldn't call her a broad, or a bimbo...or a cunt - even in his head. What was going on? He'd never had any problem calling a bitch a bitch before. If she'd been the person he spoke to first, he'd never have taken the job. It was already way more than he'd bargained for anyway. What with LaCroix sniffing around that mortal chick like a stallion in heat, and Knight gone who knew where. Not that that was any great loss. And now he had to deal with this - this. He snorted in disgust, bravado making him careless. The hell with it. He already knew how he was going to get even with them - both the elders and whatever group this broad - there, he finally could at least think it - and it wasn't by letting someone else do the job for him.

        He'd just have to jolly this...one, and all her friends, along until he could put his own plan into play. He wiped suddenly wet palms down the front of his green suit, taking care to avoid any contact with his still frosty family jewels, and started over, smiling as benignly as his buckteeth allowed.

        "I followed LaCroix to the coroner's apartment and stood across the street." His voice took on a heated edge as he remembered the scene he'd witnessed. "I wonder if she knows what a good view of her living room you can get from there. Nice of her to keep her blinds open."

        The cold voice ended his digression - and his incipient erection.

        "What happened next, Rrrezzhee?."

        The green-suited vampire rushed to answer the question, his word tumbling out between partially descended fangs.

        "He was there before she got home and waited in the dark for her to come in. Everything stayed dark for a while and then all of a sudden I see flames and start to panic before I realize he only lit a fire in the fireplace. That brings her sneakin' out of her bedroom, wearing some short slinky number that showed more than it hid. She really oughtta close her blinds if she don't want - "

        This time a look was enough to get him back on track.

        "She's carryin' a baseball bat. An' she looks like she'll use it, too. I thought old Lucien was gonna be skewered and roasted like a pig for sure."

        "But?"

        God, she wouldn't even let you tell a story with any style. He risked a glare in her direction, but returned to the essentials of his report when she curled her lip and snarled softly.

        "But," he continued, unable to keep all the exasperation out of his tone, "instead she drops the bat, they talk - argue, maybe - for a few minutes and then somehow she winds up in his arms, cryin' like she just lost her best friend."

        "And then?"

        Her obvious interest as she leaned forward made him wonder if he'd misjudged her. Maybe she wasn't an ice queen; maybe she was one of those broads who got turned on by talkin' dirty. The more self-controlled some of them seemed to be, the quicker they heated up when someone finally dealt with them the right way. His hand tingled with the urge to find out if she was one of them. He imagined watching her head snap to the side in response to his slap. Would she scream? Moan? Try to fight back? Oh, they were the best. It took a while to train them, but it was worth it; they learned to *play* as hard as they had initially fought.

        His reverie was brought to an abrupt end by the agony of her hand squeezing his fingers. He looked into her seething eyes and decided with a whimper that, no, she definitely wasn't one of "them".

        The woman flung his hand aside and growled, all traces of her accent gone. "Is there anything else you have to tell me, Reggie?"

        Knowing she was giving him a chance, however brief, to escape with his life, <How *did* she know what he'd been thinking? > he sputtered, "N-n-n-o. I left when I saw that, figurin' that's all you was interested in tonight."

        The woman smiled - and his balls shriveled again.

        "Thank you, Reggie."

        Purring now, she concluded, "You will report any further information you might get, won't you?"

        As he backed out of the room, he knew it wasn't a request.

        The woman's smile broadened in genuine pleasure. Lucien seemed to be doing his part. Hopefully Dr. Lambert would do hers as well.

        Dr. Natalie Lambert was in no condition to do much of anything. All she seemed capable of at the moment was alternating between bone shaking sobs and chest tightening anger.

        How could she stay in the embrace of this man - this monster - that Nick had warned her against at every opportunity? Not that this was really an *embrace*. The man - monster, she corrected herself again firmly - was merely offering her comfort during a difficult time. And doing it very nicely, a traitorous voice whispered in her mind..

        <But what about this "relationship" thing he mentioned? > the scientist in her asked. <How does that fit in with "offering you comfort"? >

        The coroner fought to regain some small amount of control, stiffening her much too pliant body and dropping the hands that had somehow become intertwined behind Lucien's - <LaCroix' >, she angrily reminded herself - neck.

        She used her now too empty hands to push herself away from his - very solid - chest.

        LaCroix, annoyed - and not a little disappointed - at her continued refusal to accept his attentions, allowed her to break his hold. But instead of allowing her to back away, he grabbed her and roughly spun her around so that her back was towards him.

        Natalie gasped in pain as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her upper arms and froze in the position he put her in, unwilling to provoke him to even more violence. She couldn't prevent herself from glancing quickly at her arms and gasped again as she saw the skin turning white under his grip. She groaned softly at the pain she knew would accompany the bruises his fingers would leave.

        LaCroix instantly released his hold, horrified at the amount of control he had lost. He had had no intention of hurting the good doctor, just of keeping her within reach while he tried again to reason with her. Although he was quite sure that reason was not what was needed tonight, that was no excuse for letting his emotions override his self-control.

        The ancient vampire was surprised when the coroner remained where he had placed her after he released her. <She probably assumes you'll *break* her arms if she moves. > Not for the first time, LaCroix cursed his errant son. What else could Dr. Lambert think based on what Nicholas had told her? He was sure she had heard nothing but 'LaCroix is an evil monster' from Detective Knight.

        And had he done anything to change her opinion? Certainly not tonight. He'd entered her home while she was away, drew her out of her bedroom by starting a fire (however rational his motives for doing so were) and then savaged her when she tried to move away from him. Viewed through her eyes, he realized his plan could never produce the results he wanted.

        <And just what *do* you want? < the general asked the vampire brusquely. <You should know better than to plan strategy without having a specific objective. >

        LaCroix acknowledged the reminder he shouldn't have needed and began to enumerate the goals he wanted to reach:

        Convince Dr. Lambert that she really was in danger Convince her that her only choice was to form an alliance with him Help her to accept that alliance must be permanent Make her understand that the alliance need not be unpleasant - for either of them

        The last item brought his assessment to an abrupt halt. He stiffened his spine and shook his head to clear the sudden vision of Natalie's warm body pressed willingly against his. It didn't matter; willing or not she had to become his...companion. Tonight. Now.

        He looked at her, still standing where he had placed her, gently rubbing the bruises that had already darkened her upper arms. He couldn't help staring at how they contrasted with her creamy skin, marring the beauty her nightgown exposed so provocatively.

        And suddenly he hated himself - a deep, visceral loathing so intense it overwhelmed him. Why would a mere blemish, no matter how deep, on a mortal's skin cause him to despise himself so utterly? He didn't know...couldn't know...wouldn't know. He closed his eyes but still saw the marks on the doctor's fair skin, more vivid in imagination than any reality could be. He clenched his fists, fighting the image and the pain. Willing himself to think of something - anything - else.

        But he still remembered - for the first time in centuries. And felt again his father's hand digging into his shoulders as the older man shook him back and forth, stopping only to slap his face until his nose bled. He heard the venom in his father's voice as he had taunted, "You behave like one of those effeminate creatures that take their pleasure by submitting to other men." He stopped for a moment and Lucius hoped, prayed - for the last time in his life - that the old man would be satisfied with the insult. But then his father had chortled, "Perhaps you have *already* had your asshole stretched. You spend enough time alone with that tutor you connived with your mother to engage." And, pulling the seven year old boy face down across his knees, had flipped up his tunic, jerked his undergarments to his ankles and forced two fingers into his anus. Lucius' scream brought the entire household into the atrium, brief witnesses to his humiliation before they were sent scurrying way by a glare from his father.

        The memories continued to come. He saw himself the next day, standing imperiously at attention, his eyes blackened and his shoulder throbbing, as he met, 'willing or not', the new tutor his father had employed; a man who would teach him only of war - and revenge, he reminded himself with satisfaction. He also remembered the vow he had made the night before, lying on his stomach to lessen the pain of his brutalized rectum, never to allow anyone ever again to see his pain...or any other emotion. Even when he gave standing orders for his troops to rape the women of any conquered tribe, an activity he never participated in, he made sure no one had ever known how personally he understood its power to destroy hope.

        Young Lucius had returned to his everyday life, behaving as though nothing had happened until the old man's...death.. He refused to acknowledge either sympathy or leering glances from the household staff. But as soon as he became head of his household, he dismissed all the freemen and sold all the slaves, and replacing them with people who could have no knowledge of what had been done to him that afternoon. His mother never questioned his actions and he wondered for the first time if she had known of his father's brutality - and the last shreds of his humanity joined the rest behind the locked doors of his wounded pride.

        The irony of the entire...episode, LaCroix thought, was that Lucius might well have chosen the army on his own - he had been as fascinated by the stories of Caesar and the Roman conquests as he was by the artwork and songs that celebrated them. But to be required to surrender his life before he really knew how he wanted to live it, just because his father determined it would be "better" for him, had been almost as devastating to his pride. He had, after all, spent the last 19 centuries fighting to ignore it - and reenacting it with his children, both mortal and eternal, he realized in a rare moment of introspection.

        The insight did nothing to improve his temper.

        But it did make him re-examine his handling of the current situation. He had been ready to force Natalie, so like him with her pride, bravery and strong will, to accept something "for her own good". He realized he would not...could not do that. He could no longer delude himself that he knew what was best for anyone else. <Thank you again...Father> he thought nastily. Or if he did know what was best, as in the case of Nicholas, how could he force them to accept his ideas? As for Dr. Lambert, he would gladly accept her as his...companion if she was willing to join him, but he would not force her. Although he was powerful enough to overcome her resistance, he would not hypnotize her either. To manipulate her that way would demean her courage. Nor would he pretend to something he didn't wish to feel. That left him with one final, undeniable truth: there was only one way to accomplish this - but he, who had faced the possibility of torture or death without fear, wasn't sure he had the courage to pursue it. But he really had no choice, and he had never refused the accept the inevitable.

        He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as he had done for decades just before going into battle. Trembling slightly, he forced himself to feel the barriers he had erected during that assault so many centuries before, and had reinforced every time something threatened to breach them, - and smashed them to dust.

        LaCroix staggered under the onslaught of almost two millennia of suppressed emotions and groaned at the pain they brought. And tried to ignore the other feeling that was floating among the agony.

        Natalie turned at the sound and started to quip, "OK, fang face, what are you going to try this time?" but stopped in mid sentence when she saw how pale he had become. She'd never seen any vampire this pale. Except for Screed as he bled out, she realized in alarm. The doctor rushed to his side, reaching out to keep him from falling. She managed to maneuver him onto the sofa and dropped down next to him. Without thinking, she grabbed his wrist and then dropped it, laughing.

        "It would be so much easier to treat you if you actually had as pulse."

        The doctor's attempt at humor gave LaCroix a chance to regain a small amount of control before looked at her through memory-clouded eyes and replied softly, "I am sorry I make your life so difficult, Doctor."

        Natalie choked off the smart-ass comment she wanted to make and looked carefully at her "patient". She reached a tentative hand to his cheek and, when he didn't pull away, gently steadied his face while she looked into his - magnificent, pale blue - eyes. She returned his gaze with one of wonder.

        "You really mean that, don't you?"

        The vampire, surprised at her lack of sarcasm, said merely, "Yes."

        Nat stared at him for a while longer, trying to figure out what trick he was playing now. Since he couldn't reason with her and physical intimidation hadn't worked, had he decided to seduce her? <Like that would really work, > she snapped silently. But she didn't drop her eyes until the bruises on her arms began to ache.

        She quickly lowered the hand that was still touching his cheek and used it to rub her upper arm. She jerked away, almost sliding off the couch, when she felt LaCroix' cool hand lift hers from its task. The strong arm that curled around her waist was removed as soon as she regained her balance. She thought briefly that she should have struggled longer.

        She knew she ought to reclaim her hand, certain that he would end his touch at the slightest hint of movement from her. Why was he suddenly so reticent - and why was she so unwilling to make him retreat?

        Unable to stand the silence one more instant, she blurted the first question she thought of, regretting it before she'd completed the sentence. But whether because it wasn't what she really wanted to know or because its tone was too harsh, she chose not to examine.

        "Why did you stop me from rubbing my arm? It hurts."

        His voice heavy with some emotion Natalie couldn't even begin to identify, the ancient vampire whispered, "I know. And I am truly sorry for causing you that pain. It was not my intention. I - I merely wanted to stop you from walking away, and...lost my temper."

        The Roman general hurried on, hoping to forestall the words that would accompany the incredulous look the doctor didn't even try to hide.

        "As for why I stopped your self-ministrations, what you were doing would have caused you more discomfort in the long run."

        Without thinking, Natalie retorted, "And how would you know? You haven't felt anything since long before Vesuvius erupted."

        She clamped her hand over her mouth, but not soon enough to prevent the words from causing what she could only interpret as pain to flash briefly in his eyes, flicker out and then return, dulling the light blue of his eyes to silver.

        She gaped at the ancient vampire, who suddenly seemed so vulnerable. What the hell was going on? This was the man who had beaten Nick almost senseless on more than one occasion. And suddenly he looked like a lost seven year old. She looked away in confusion, an action LaCroix was grateful for since it gave him a moment to settle the emotions he no longer could conquer.

        As she so often did, Natalie took refuge in science, asking brusquely, "Why would what I was doing have caused me more discomfort?"

        LaCroix eagerly answered the safe question.

        "You were rubbing the bruise too aggressively, damaging the tissues even more than they...than I had initially."

        And then he damned 'safety' to all the hells he could think of and lightly brushed his thumb across the marks on the doctor's left arm. He felt his groin stir in response to the heat of her blood as it pooled just under the surface of her soft, creamy skin. He fought to do nothing more until he learned Natalie's reaction. But gods, it was hard. He sent a momentary apology to Nicholas, wherever he had gone, for his ignorance of his son's struggle. How did anyone deal with emotions this intense?

        Natalie Lambert was wondering the same thing. She had gasped at his first touch and then froze to prevent him from moving away. She analyzed his touch, so different from any other she had ever felt. Why was it so different? She couldn't quite put her finger on it. She groaned at the pun and had to quickly grab LaCroix' - Lucien's, she corrected herself ruefully - to keep him from removing it.

        Dark blue eyes searched light ones and agreed to seek no answers until they learned what the questions should be. For now the need would be enough.

        Natalie replaced Lucien's hand on her arm, encouraging his thumb to resume its sensual stroking. LaCroix complied, deliberately widening his path, until the finger caught in the strap of Natalie's nightgown, pushing it gently until it slipped off her shoulder. The silky fabric slipped from her breast, exposing the nipple to his hungry gaze. He moved his thumb from her arm and rubbed it slowly over the erect tissue, feeling it harden even more. When he heard Natalie's moan he cupped her breast with his palm. While not large, it nestled perfectly in the hollow of his hand. He began to roll the nipple firmly between his thumb and index fingers, feeling the puckered flesh grow warm with his attentions. He placed his lips on her arm, lightly kissing the dark smudges he so regretted causing. He opened his mouth and let his tongue roam across the slightly salty skin. The scent of her blood so close to the surface forced his fangs to descend and he pulled back in surprise; he never lost control this quickly. And then he realized that this was the price he had chosen to pay when he decided to woo the good doctor fairly.

        Misunderstanding his action, Nat quickly grabbed the back of his neck and tried to force his mouth back to her arm. LaCroix merely pulled back further until she could see the tips of his canines gleaming white against his lips.

        <So different from Nick's> she thought, remembering the playful peek at his fangs the detective had shown her the night he had almost been killed. Surprised that she felt no regret, she studied the vampire before her Lucien most certainly didn't look playful - if she didn't know better she'd think he looked nervous.

        She wanted to tease him, but was unsure of his reaction. She grinned wickedly as she decided she'd have to find out how far she could push him. <But not until he finishes what he started > she thought with determination. And her smile faded. What if he couldn't - wouldn't - finish it? Nick never would - he wouldn't even start it. Suppose LaCroix felt the same way.

        Something of her concern must have transmitted itself to her - she hoped - lover, because he stood up, gently touched her face and smiled, fangs still very much in evidence.

        "I am not Nicholas...Doctor Lambert," he teased. "I will definitely complete whatever you wish me to. I merely need to...replenish my reserves."

        Staring into his gold-flecked eyes, Natalie stood as well and slowly brought her arm from her side, turning her wrist up to face him. LaCroix gulped and she could have sworn his eyes became moist before he answered.

        "Thank you, Doctor. I hope you will make that offer at a more...appropriate time, but for right now I will have to regretfully decline."

        LaCroix turned toward the door, but then whirled back, needing to see more of her. He slipped the other strap of her gown off her shoulder and stepped back just enough to watch the silk slither down her body to pool around her feet.

        Nat stood totally still, reveling in the golden gaze that almost caressed her body. She had never felt so free - so wanton - with any other lover; she had always wanted to keep something private, covering her crotch with her hand or lowering her gaze to the ground. But she wanted LaCroix to see all of her, touch and taste even her most intimate parts. She smiled as his eyes lingered between her legs and she parted them slightly, stepping out of the nightgown before tilting her hips forward until the moisture that dampened her curls glistened in the firelight.

        Unwilling to resist the impulse, even if he could have, the ancient vampire gently parted her labia and stroked her lightly, beginning at her anus and ending with a brief touch of her clitoris. Natalie gasped in pleasure and then again in shock as he brought his finger to his lips, kissed it, and slowly offered it to her, whispering seductively, "Have you ever tasted your arousal, Natalie?"

        When she emphatically shook her head in denial, LaCroix moved his finger a little closer and when she blushingly demurred again, he lightly held her chin with his other hand, opened his mouth and refused to let her look down as he slowly sucked her moisture from his finger.

        He turned to leave, an action he knew he needed to take quickly if Natalie was going to survive the rest of the night - if that were her wish, but was stopped by the quick pressure of Natalie's hand cupping his crotch, painfully squeezing his fully engorged penis. The ancient vampire groaned, although he enjoyed her boldness, and quickly removed her hand, keeping his back to her as he hissed hurriedly, "I won't be long, my...dear. But I really *must* leave now."

        He jerked the door open and strode out, leaving a bewildered Natalie Lambert to try to reconcile the LaCroix of Nick's stories with the Lucien who seemed almost vulnerable. But she was distracted by the thought of the significant bulge that her hand hadn't been able to cover. She wondered, with more than a little anxiety, if he had been fully erect. She hoped she didn't have to wait too long to find out.

        End Part 4