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

 "As you requested, Doctor, scrambled eggs and hot chocolate."
LaCroix's powerful figure, came through the main door dressed to the
nines.

 She swung away, wiping at the evidence of her tears.  Knowing
him, seeing her cry would just give him more fodder.   It wouldn't do
for him to see her this way.  "Thank you."   Striving for composure,
she took the heaping china plate.

 How many eggs did they think she could eat?  There must be at
least ten piled on there, smeared liberally with ketchup.  Wait a
minute.  Hold up. With last night's episode still firm in her mind,
she poked her fork at the red coating.  When that didn't give her the
answers she sought, she lifted an experimental bite of the stuff to
her nose.  It smelled like ketchup.  With the tip of her tongue she
tasted it.  Yep, that was ketchup.

 LaCroix had a small choking fit.  Great cover.  She wasn't
buying it. The creep was laughing.   She reviewed the image she must
have presented him.   Okay, so he had a reason to laugh.   Snorting
eggs wasn't a normal reaction to a hot breakfast.

 She shoveled the forkful in.  At least he hadn't laughed
outright.   So far, he was being entirely too nice this morning.
Why?   After everything else in the last twenty-four hours, she
didn't know if she could handle anymore of his plots.   She closed
her eyes to focus on their new link, but he'd closed it to her.
Whatever thoughts went through his mind, remained his own.   His calm
face gave no indication,  if anything he looked distant.  It just
wasn't fair.

 The clock gave her about an hour and a half until her shift
started.  She knew the station would be in an uproar tonight.   With
both Nick and her turning in their resignations,  people would assume
they were leaving together.   She rubbed the bridge of her nose.
Should she encourage that belief?  It gave a  reason their coworkers
would accept without question. The office pool was for when it would
happen involved every uniform on night check.   It was the ideal
solution.   A few painful congratulations and well wishes to endure,
and it would be over.   Grace and Schanke posed the biggest threats
to her control.  Breaking down in tears might not fly, and conversly,
assault charges from Schanke might be difficult to explain.  Now, for
some physical evidence.  She looked down at her bare finger.
 "LaCroix...Lucien,  we have an hour before my shift starts.
Let's go shopping.  I need a ring."  She made a mental addition of
clothes to the list.

 He shook out of his reverie to look at her in
confusion.  "Pardon?"

 She decided not to take pity on him.  "Well, If I'm getting
married, I need an engagement ring.  Don't you think?"

 "Married?"  He regarded her with an expression that clearly
questioned her sanity.  "Might I ask who you were planning to
marry?"

 "Didn't you hear Nick propose?  It was in the middle of sex
no less."  Her voice reflected some of the hurt from that horrible
phone call.

 Comprehension began to dawn, and she felt him double checking
through their link for confirmation.  An evil thought brought a huge
smile to her lips.  "You wouldn't happen to know one of Nick's credit
card numbers would you?"  By god, she was going to make him pay for
this.

 LaCroix threw back his head and laughed, the sound rolling
through to their link.  "Ah Doctor,  you shall make a fine addition
indeed.  I'm sure I have his mastercard around here somewhere.  Would
you prefer a large diamond or a colored gem?"

 She thought for a minute.  "A diamond and six blood red
rubies." One for each wasted year.

 The meaning wasn't lost on him this time.  "Good choice."  He
grabbed her hand in an iron grasp.  She jumped at the sudden action.
His eyes focused on her ring finger,  the tips of his fangs just
peeking past his lips. "A size six will fit.  Let me call my jeweler,
he will have it ready when we arrive."  Hitting autodial he released
her with a smile.  "Try to remain calm, the link is making control,
difficult."

 That was supposed to calm her down?  Was he out of his mind?
She pulled her hand away.   Somehow, she didn't doubt his word, but
do you tell a prisoner that if they don't fear, they don't die?  No.
That just gave them something else to fear.  Damn, damn, damn.    His
eyes were glowing now.  Think, something mundane.  Such as the fact
he had a personal jeweler on autodial?  How did one manage that?
Must be nice to be rich.  See, nice, calm thoughts.

 "Good evening, this is Monsieur LaCroix.  I need you to fill
an order for immediate pickup."  He paused,  waiting for the person
to get paper.   "A size six platinum band, studded with a two carat
quality `H' diamond, surrounded by six matching half carat rubies.
I will be there in forty-five minutes."   There was a hint of warning
in his voice.   She revised her earlier opinion.  It must be nice to
be rich, powerful, and scary as hell.

 He hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair.  His slow
perusal started at her rumpled hair, and worked its way down to her
bare feet.  She blushed.  Great, that was supposed to be Nick sitting
there, looking at her with sex in his eyes.  LaCroix, she wasn't sure
what her feelings about LaCroix were yet.  Not the same as they were
last night, but not sex.  Definitely not love.

  Her eyes met his and the bloodlust slammed through their
link.  The pounding of her heart changed to echo his in a subconcious
dance of death.  Her eyes fixed onto the smooth column of his neck
and the slow pulse just under the thin layer of skin.  It would be so
easy to bite into that rich fountain.  Already her fangs tingled in
need.  She ran her tongue over them in anticipation.   Fangs?

Something didn't click in the small remnant of her concious.  What
the hell was going on?  She didn't have fangs.  Her nose flared and
the delicious smell of his blood became overwhelming.  Unable to
stop, she launched herself at his throat, not knowing why, just
knowing that she had to do it.  The pain would stop then.

 LaCroix caught her easily.  He pushed her mortal body against
the counter and leaned his face into her wrist.  The feel of his soft
lips sent tingles down every nerve ending of her body.  Electricity
shot through her bloodstream.  She knew he was going to bite, could
feel her fangs, his fangs, it didn't matter, parting her skin.

Rapture, the hot blood gushed into their link sealing it forever.  It
pulsed around them, flowing through the bite in her wrist, completing
the circle.  She felt herself screaming and didn't care.

 All too soon, he broke away and licked her wrist with his
rough tongue.  Not unlike that of a cat, she compared.  The grin only
made the comparison more apt,  a chesire cat to be exact.  He support
her the few steps to his chair,  eyes still glowing.  She didn't feel
like resisting.  In five minutes she planned on killing him, but for
now she needed the help.  Dizzy from the blood loss, she swayed
against him.  Why wasn't she dead?  The link was there in the
background, a steady white noise just waiting to be activated again.
 "I gave you a week Natalie.  I always keep my word, but there
will be allowances made."  He licked a stray droplet of her blood
from his chin.

 "What did you do to me?"  She didn't care that her voice
shook.  Hell, her whole body was shaking, what was the difference if
her voice did too.  She knew she'd been in his head, that was his
reaction, not hers.

 "I have started the process of bringing you across.  Until it
is complete, you are mine, in body and soul.  Do you realize what
that means?"  He made her look at him, not just the speck over his
shoulder, but at him, right between the eyes.

 "No.  You tell me what it means."  She pushed all of her
betrayal into her eyes,  "I can't handle anymore surprises,  tell me
what is going to happen."

 "You will feel my needs, all of them, as your own.   I will
block some of it, but when you call to it as you did tonight, that
will be the result.   There is no turning back now.  You are mine
Doctor.  In a month unless I finish the job, you will be quite,"  He
paused rolling his tongue over the word, "mad."

 Fear shot through her.  Dead, she could handle that.  Death
was something she dealt with every night.  Immortal?  Again, she
could live with that, no pun intended.  But insane?  No, she'd rather
jump from the CN tower onto the waiting cars below.   "You will
finish the job, right?"

 "You have my word Natalie.  I look forward to it."  He gave
every indication of wanting to do so now.  The gold shimmered under
the crystal lake of his eyes, dancing, just waiting it's chance to be
free again.

 Odd, how something so unnatural could bring her comfort, but
it did.  One less thing to worry about.  That still did not excuse
him from attacking her.  Or was it her attacking him?  Either way,
his fault.  Her wrist still bled, two thin rivulets trickling down to
drip onto her wrinkled suit.  She stood, thinking to clean and bind
the wounds.  She didn't make it more than five feet.  Enough time to
murmer, "Catch me" before making a nose dive for the marble floor.
 Seeing it hurtling to her face, she shut her eyes, not
wanting to look, not wanting to feel the impact.  Once again, LaCroix
saved her.  She was going to have to thank him for this later.  Even
if it was his fault.

 "Careful.  Perhaps it would be in your best interests to call
in sick tonight Dr. Lambert.  Physician heal thyself as they say."

 "No." She only had one week left with her friends.  Even if
it meant torture to see them, she had to do it.  "No, I'll be fine in
a few minutes.  Just get me bandaged up."

 He nodded, and rose in fluid grace.  "As you wish."  He
retrieved a first aid kit from his room and returned to her side.
She watched in silence as he went through the box in perfect ease.
His expert motions as he cut the gauze and measured the tape spoke of
an intimate knowledge in her tools of trade.  What an odd
contradiction.  He could be a doctor.

 "I have been many things Natalie, a doctor is but one of
them.  Eternity is a long time to be a general."  His expression
never changed, just calm, serious.   He taped the  binding all around
her wrist, his movements firm and completely proffessional.
Whatever passion he'd shown earlier was gone as if it had never
been.   That he read her mind again disturbed her, but for now at
least, he was on her side.

 "Here, try to stand, hold on if you have to."  He gripped her
good arm, and supported her under the armpit.  She leaned up, into
the cool confines of his body.  Together, with her arm thrown over
his shoulder, they made it to his couch.  This close, the smell of
roses and his aftershave enveloped her. When he released her, a small
part of her missed the contact.  Must be the link she thought, and
swore.  She didn't want to have contact with him, much less miss
it.

 The cold wetness of her sleeve made her look down.  Had she
not known better, it could have been a botched suicide attempt from
the amount of blood saturating the material.   It had soaked up
nearly to her elbow, half way around on both sides, with a few drips
onto the trousers.  No way could she go out in public with these.
Someone would call the police or the ambulance in a heartbeat.
 She should go to the hospital, but how would she explain this
without her coworkers thinking her suicidal, or the victim of a
vicious attack.  Schanke would just love to haul LaCroix downtown.
Two day ago she would have agreed with that just on principle.
Hell, she would have asked them to put him in a room with a view.
 "How kind of you."  The drawl voice spoke from above her
head.  She looked up into his fierce frown,  her captor didn't appear
happy.  Oops, she really needed to learn how to block that link.
 "I didn't invite you in, so don't get pissed when you hear
something you don't like.  What did you expect to find after lying to
me, nearly killing me, and invading my mind?  Warm fuzzy thoughts?
Go buy a clue."   She snapped the last out, wishing she was strong
enough to make a grand exit through the door.  But if his outraged
expression was an indication, next time she made a nose dive for the
concrete, he'd step out of the way.   The grand exit could wait.
 "I have not lie to you."  Angered sincerity oozed off of him.
 Great, a practiced liar.  Hmm, who would have guessed.  She
snorted.  "How about not drugging the wine?  Ring a bell?"
 He cocked a brow and smiled at her. "There were no drugs in
your wine last night."

 "You spiked it with your blood!"  She could still stake him
for that nauseating deception.

 "Ah.  But, you did not ask me about blood, just drugs.  There
are no drugs in my system."

 So that was how he was going to play this.  He should have
been a lawyer.  On second thought, he probably was at one
point.  "Can we skip the semantics debate?  You knew what I was
asking."

 "Really Doctor, I can not help it that you do not ask the
right questions.  However, your mortal job will not wait for us to
continue this debate.  Stay here, I will find something appropriate
for you to wear."

She sat in silence, glaring after his solid back.  He was
right, damn him.  That made it worse.  Being wrong was not one of her
strong points.  She tugged off the shirt before it caked onto her
skin.  The blood had already hardened the silk in some parts, and
left a sticky trail on her arm.  Rubbing it away didn't help matters,
the stain was still there, bright against her pale skin. She needed a
bath.  Too bad she was in no condition to give herself one.  The hot
tub combined with her low blood pressure was a drowning just waiting
to happen.

 After about half an hour, she started tapping her feet with
impatience. She was going to be late unless he showed up soon.  With
one arm holding onto the couch for support she forced herself to
stand.  If she couldn't do this, she might as well call in sick.  The
world tilted a little, but it didn't spin. Good.  She forced herself
to take a cautious step forward.  That's it, one step at a time,
Nat.  She refused to depend on LaCroix all night.  There, she'd made
it to the counter, and all of her senses were still in good working
order. Now, where did he put his rags?  She tugged open all the
little cherry drawers beside the sink and found them folded in the
bottom.

 When the tap water was hot enough she soaked the white
washrag in it and scrubbed her arm.  Over and over again she rinsed
the now pink rag until she felt clean.

 "The consequences for not obeying can be...deadly."
LaCroix's pale figure stood just inside the doorway.  A silent
predator, waiting in the dark. He put his armful of clothes on the
back of a chair and stalked across the room to her.   Now what had
she done?  The very real danger of him killing her hit when he was
about eight feet away.  It was the look in his eyes, the resignation
and the calculating anger.

 She jumped back,  hitting the refrigerator with the bare skin
of her shoulders.  The scream surprised her.

 Smiling cruely he reached out a finger to her chest.  "Nice.
For this view, I could almost forgive your disobediance.  But we both
know this display is not for my benefit."  He dragged his fingernail
lightly over her skin, tracing along the veins.  Like a deer caught
in the headlights, she could do nothing but stare.  Why was he doing
this?

 "Do you truly not know why I am displeased?"

 She shook her head, mute.  Had she purposely done something
to piss him off, she wouldn't be stupid enough to stick around for
the repercussions.

 "I ordered you to remain where I left you.  Yet, I return to
find you leaning over the sink with blood dripping from a rag."  He
tilted her chin up to face him.  "Never. Disobey. Me. Again."  Eyes
wide she nodded.  Don't argue with the man holding the gun.  He
released her, and stepped to the side.  "Good, Doctor.  Now go get
dressed,  unless you want attentions of another sort."

 She didn't need to be told twice.  Somehow the material
didn't rip in her haste to put it on.  LaCroix couldn't be faulted in
his taste.  The black, of course it would be black,  suit was the
perfect feminine match to his.  It was almost too nice to wear at
work.   She went to check herself in the mirror. Spiffy Doc, not bad
at all.

 "Okay, lets get this show on the road."  She grabbed her
pursed and came around the corner.  LaCroix waited for her by the
door with a small velvet box in his hand.

 "Enchanting.  Madam, I would be honored if you accepted this
token of Nick's affection.  He paid dearly for it."  LaCroix snapped
the box open to reveal the ruby and diamond engagement ring.  With
care for her injured wrist, he slipped it onto her left ring finger.

 Hell, she hadn't thought of that.  The jacket covered the
bandage when it hung down, but everyone needed to see her ring for
the rest of this charade to work.  There was no way she could hide
the injury now.  In the next fifteen minutes she had to come up with
a believable excuse.

End Chapter 3