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

        "No.  You shouldn't even have told them Nick was in Paris!
Giving them my personal phone number in Paris is out of the
question."  LaCroix paced across the living room.

        Natalie watched his smooth movements as one watched a trained
tiger, admiring the grace, the beauty, but ready to dive behind the
couch at the first sign of the carefully controlled strength becoming
unleashed.    "They need to talk to him.  Even you can't erase the
minds of the entire Toronto police department."

        She wasn't prepared for his snarl of rage.  "Don't you think
I know that?  He will come back, to face these absurd challenges of
his questionable innocence.  It interferes with everything!"  He
leaned over, putting one hand on either side of the couch cushions
around her.  With his face centimeters from her own, there was no
time or room to dive anywhere.  "Release me from my word, Natalie."

        She could smell the slight taste of cinnamon on his breath,
see the tips of his fangs, just above his gumline, before those full
lips closed back over them.  It didn't take a genius to figure out
what vow he wanted released from. Her week was up, in two days
instead of five.   Faced with death, looking her straight in the eye
with those glacial ice pools, she was lost.  She couldn't scream,
couldn't run, and she refused to cry.  "Give me one more sunrise,
LaCroix, then do what you must."

        "Agreed. You have this one, last, day." His soft lips
carressed hers.  Nibbling at the edge of her mouth until she opened
under him.  Half in wonder, half in surprise, Natalie explored his
mouth.  The taste of cinnamon was there, along with the oddest flavor
of honey.  She felt his fangs slide down into place, and touched the
sharps points with her tongue.  Stroking the sides brought a shudder
to the powerful frame above her.  She wanted more, but he tore away,
resting his forehead on her own.

        "No more."  His voice came out hoarse. "You had better go,
sunrise is in ten minutes." He gently placed another kiss on her
forehead, just a soft brushing of his lips, and drew away.  "I need
to prepare."

        She watched him walk away in confusion.  What did he want
from her? Everything she knew of LaCroix's past told her point blank,
that this was just another game, an amusement to pass the time, or
even another way to bring Nick back into the fold.   Her heart told a
different story, she saw a lonely proud warrior.   Great, Lambert,
And the last time your heart was right, was when?  That's right, Nat,
never.  Your heart is a homing beacon for trouble.  The only men it
likes are either the walking dead, serial murderers, or, in the
present case, both.  She snorted.

        "Doctor, might I remind you, you wanted to see the sunrise?"
He stood by the phone, looking at her with one raised eyebrow,
expectant.

        "Don't worry, I won't be late for our appointment."  She
heard the bitterness in her tone, and didn't care.

        LaCroix regarded her in bafflement.  "I should hope not.  Now
go, before I change my mind and take you where you stand."

        She went.

        The cold wind chafed the skin of her cheeks, burning along
her skin until it reached the warmth of her jacket's collar.  She
wrapped the small protection tighter about her, as she stared up at
the Toronto skyline.  The road remained quiet in this predawn hour.
Cresting the horizon, the sun gave a light grey glow to the thick
clouds above.  The first drop of rain landed in a frozen ooze on the
tip of her nose.

        "Well, looks like I got what I wanted, a true sunrise in
Toronto."  She leaned against the building as the light drizzle
started to turn into a downpour. Overhead, the clouds remained in a
densly packed cover.  If the sun managed to break through that
defensive shield, pigs would be flying at La Guardia, instead of 747's

        Everything had run smoothly at her lab.  The technician had
all but fallen over at the gravity of his `mistake'.  Even in the car
on the way back, LaCroix behaved, the perfect gentleman.  It was just
the calm before the storm.

        Disappointment ate at her.  She'd hoped for a glorious pink
dawn, surrounded by golden clouds, with rays of light shooting over
the gleaming windows of the city.  There was no use in standing here,
getting drenched.  Resigned, she turned back inside.

        Miklos looked up from wiping a table as she came back in.
Two cases of bottled blood, sat conspicious on the bar.  He knew.
She could see it in his stance, the way his eyes shifted from her to
the bottles.

        "You're scared."  He continued wiping at the glistening table,
polishing out some invisible stain.  Those two simple words, spoken
in a lilting Greek accent, summed up everything.

        Natalie swallowed, hard, past the unshed tears, retaining
what dignity she could.  "Yes.  Who wouldn't be?"

        He gave up the pretense of cleaning, and tossed the rag onto
the table. "Most of us didn't have the time to be afraid.  But,
neither did we have the time to prepare, or enjoy our last hours.
Believe it or not, he's doing you a kindness.  What is scaring you?"

        Natalie walked to the bar, and lifted out one of the green
bottles.  Miklos did nothing to stop her, just observed her with
those wise brown eyes.

        "This scares me."  She fingered the light dust coating the
top.  "I already crave LaCroix's blood, and because of it, he
controls me.  That terrifies me. If I can't control myself, I know
what happens.  Richard..."  She looked away, remembering that hellish
night.  "My brother couldn't.  Nick killed him."

        "Ah."  Miklos went behind the bar, and took down the box of
hot chocolate mix.  "You fear death."  Dumping the contents of one of
the packets into a mug, he continued quietly.  "LaCroix will not
allow you to die. He owes you too much, we all do.  If he thought you
couldn't handle crossing over, he would fight the enforcer's edict,
no matter the consequences."

        Natalie sat there, a little stunned at this insight.  She
couldn't see LaCroix endangering himself for a mortal, not even her.
However, she didn't doubt Miklos.  "Do you trust him?"

        "I would walk into the sun if he told me it wouldn't hurt."
Miklos stirred the steaming chocolate.  "Whipped cream?"

        "Yes, please."  She watched his expert hands spray the cream
in a perfect swirl.   He sat the tempting mug in front of her, and
leaned back against the mahogany shelves.  She found it hard to see
him as a vampire, he seemed so, human.  "Thank you."  Taking a sip,
she beamed her appreciation.

        "You're welcome."  He smiled in comfort.  "You'll be fine.
If anyone can retain control, it is you.  After all, you've known
Nick for six years, and haven't shot him once."

        Natalie laughed, low in her throat.  "I've been tempted."
She realized then, that Miklos would answer any question, she asked,
without judgement, just as one friend to another.  The ramifications
of that set in.  Serious now, she deliberated how to ask him the
foremost question in her mind.

        "How will LaCroix do this?"

        The smile bled away from his handsome, tanned face.  "I won't
lie to you.  You deserve the truth.  He is a man."  Miklos stopped,
uncertainty reflected in the purse of his lips,  "He will bring you
across in his bed. Jeanette was the only woman he did not bring over
that way, but her circumstances were unique.  You are too much of a
temptation for him, he's wanted you for a long time."

        That's what she figured.   Not knowing what else to do, she
drank more of the chocolate.  "Will he give me a choice?"

        "No.  You already desire him, if I can smell that, then so
can LaCroix. If you want to remain in control, then go to him
willingly."

        How could she go to him willingly?  How could she not?  She
wanted him, and he wouldn't be giving her a choice.  The road to hell
should be paved with such temptations.  Would it be such a crime to
enjoy it?

        She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until Miklos's rich
voice, answered.  "Things are different for vampires, Natalie.
Intimacy with your master is expected.  No one would judge you for
enjoying it."  Miklos turned to the sink behind him, and started
rinsing the serving trays.  He still glanced up at her, from under
the wavy locks of black hair.  "I am surprised Nick didn't tell you
this."

        "He never intended to bring me across.  We had hoped to cure
him instead."  Not that it mattered now.  Nick was happy with
Jeanette, his decision made.   Natalie finished off the cocoa.

        "Ah.  Sometimes, Nick can be a fool.  I am sorry he didn't
have the brains to treat you better."

        "Don't be, not your fault I was too blind to see past a
pretty face."  She grimaced, wasn't it normally the man who had that
problem?

        "One can feel regret and sorrow for another without sharing
guilt. You're feeling a bit better now, no?"

        "Yes, Miklos, I'm a little better.  Thank you for your
honesty."  She did appreciate it, just talking about things had
calmed her enough that she didn't think she'd cry or panic when the
time came.

        "No problem."  He lifted the case of bottles in one hand and
smiled at her.  "If you want anything, after, let me know.  I need to
get these upstairs to him, and seek my own bed.  Goodnight Natalie."

        He retreated to the back rooms, leaving her alone in the
suddenly huge nightclub.  "Goodnight."    The sound of her voice was
swallowed into empty space, unanswered.
 

        After half an hour she couldn't put it off anymore.  Whatever
her fate, she came to the decision to seek it out.  Six years of her
life wasted, for one man.

        "Well, Nick, you had your chance."  She acsended the stairs,
going to the one she knew would keep his word.

        LaCroix met her at the door, wearing a flowing white silk
shirt, edged in layers of lace, and a pair of skin tight black
pants.  The white fabric accented his own pale coloring, highlighting
the glowing depths of his eyes. She wanted to touch him, to run her
hands over that soft material, and the smooth skin underneath.  When
he held his hand out for her, she took it.  Through the link, she
felt his approval, the cool warmth of his desire and satisfaction.

        "Did you enjoy your sunrise my dear?"  He brushed the hair
away from her face, and pulled back his fingers in surprise.  "You're
wet."

        "It's raining."  She took her hand away and peeled the jacket
off. "I didn't see the sun."

        Taking her damp jacket, he looked down at her in
compassion.  "Does it mean so much to you?"

        Did it?  She considered.  The sun itself meant nothing,  it
was the afternoons in the park with friends, the picnics with the
rest of the department that meant something.  She would miss them,
not the sun.  "No, not really."

        He nodded, slowly, to himself.  "Good."  He tossed her coat
over the couch, the movement quick, decisive.  "It is time.  Go to my
room, I'll be there shortly."

        Natalie shivered, forcing herself to take the additional
steps to his sanctuary.   With each step, her courage faltered,  by
the ficus tree it gave up altogether.  She stopped, unwillingly to go
further.  She could feel him,  a solid warmth at her back.  His
strong hand wrapped around her frozen waist, propelling her the rest
of the way.  "Come Doctor, don't fail me now."

        Together, they surveyed the results of his handiwork.
Hundreds of candles burned throughout the room.  Their flickering
glow casting a golden sheen onto the draping velvet of the bed.
White roses flowed from every vase, and more of the soft petals
dusted the floor.   The wall mirror across the room reflected back
her ghostly figure, tiny against the enigmatic god looming just
behind.

        LaCroix turned on a hidden switch and a dark violin solo
filled the chamber, resonating in the sultry air.  She imagined his
long fingers dancing the bow over the strings, every movement
precise, flowing as the music overcame his soul.  From within, she
felt the music swell, soaring, as it found an answering emotion,
longing.

        She didn't resist when his deft fingers unbuttoned the front
of her blouse.  Her breasts became heavy under his touch, the nipples
tightening as they were freed into the air.  Pushing forward into the
warm palm of his hand, she shivered.

        He tenderly stroked the sensitive flesh.  "Exquisite,
amans."  The bra fell to the floor beside the dress.

        Natalie turned into his chest.  She needed to feel his bare
skin against her own.  If she was going to be naked, then so was he.
She found the lowest button, and slipped it through the hole.
Working her way up, she counted the five buttons until she met his
hands on the last one at his neck.  The large fingers encased her
own, nimbly unhooking the last of the buttons with her.  His eyes met
hers over their joined hands.

        "Allow me."  He  pulled the shirt off in a flourish, the
muscles of his arms and chest flexing.  In the candlelight, he
appeared a golden angel.  She ran her fingertip over that perfect
skin, smiling in satisfaction as the hairs raised under her touch.

        Her breasts flattened against his chest when he drew her to
him.  Kissing that heated skin, brought a growl from deep within
him.  She felt the vibrations under her lips,  through her breasts,
and then lower.  He thrust into her belly,  his hardness straining
against the tight fabric of his pants.  How they held him, was beyond
her.  At any moment she expected to hear the sound of fabric giving
way.

        Be a shame to waste such nice pants...she hooked her finger
under the snap, millimeters from that straining head.   He froze,
every sense alert.  She didn't know if she sensed his fear or
anticipation.  With a slight tug the snap gave way, and he burst free
into her hand.

        She held the thick length of him in her palm, squeezing
gently up the shaft.  With no small amount of awe, she realized she
couldn't close her fingers around him.  He quivered, and his arms
pulled her tighter to his chest.

        "My dear, you are a treasure.  Perhaps we should move this to
the bed."  His deep voice spoke into the hair at her neck, just below
her right ear.

        Yes, the bed would be a lot better.  She didn't know how much
longer her knees would last before melting into a gooey heap on the
marble floor.

        "Please."  She released him, intending to walk to the bed.
She didn't make it.  In a woosh of air, he swept her into his
powerful arms.  Almost dizzy at the sudden change of position, she
clung to him.

        He laughed.  "I like that word on your lips."

        She stared up at the intensity on his face, seeing the lust
in his glowing eyes.  Fear shot through her, the control she prized
so much, gone.  She had to know.

        "LaCroix, tell me this is not a game for you."  There, it was
out, her fragile emotions perching on the edge of a cliff.  When he
didn't immediately answer, they plummeted.

        The glow in his eyes receded a little, blue flecks peeking
out between the gold.  "No, no game, dear child.  Together we will
watch civilization rise and fall, and rise again.  They are the game,
laid before us on the platter of the world."  He whispered the words,
but the deep sound carried throughout the room.  The candlelight
danced shadows across his chiseled face, as he laid her gently upon
the velvet comforter.

        That was not the answer she sought.  He must have seen it in
her eyes, for he frowned.  "Natalie, if you seek love, go to my
fickle son.  He feels the questionable emotion at the drop of a hat.
I am too old for such foolishness.  If you want loyalty, yes, that I
can give you."  He lifted her wrist to his mouth and kissed along the
vein.  "For eternity."  He plunged his fangs into the soft skin.

        The sudden violence brought a scream to her lips.  She felt
him sucking gently,  drawing her lifeblood out in a stream of liquid
ecstasy.  The fleeting pain when his teeth broke through her skin
immediately changed to waves of pleasure.   Every nerve tingled and
heat rushed between her legs.   Through the link, she felt the
rapture of his fangs surrounded by the pulsing rush of her blood.
With an iron self control, tempered over fifty lifetimes, he stopped,
and licked the wounds closed.

        Kneeling above her, he finished stripping from his clothes.
The pants pealed off like a second skin.  His hands ran over her
satin panties, applying enough pressure to make her arch into those
expert fingers, demanding more.  The moan escaped before she knew it
was coming.

        Rather than take the time to pull them down, he tore through
that last barrier, ripping the lingerie from her body.  She grabbed
his hand before he moved any further and pulled him down beside her.
She needed him, now.  His hand returned to stroking her, bringing her
to the edge of the precipice.  He parted her folds and penetrated
with one finger.

        It was enough.  She crested over and over again,  spasming
around his finger as it moved in and out.   She flexed into his
pelvis, pressing against him, wanting that huge length buried to it's
hilt inside of her.  "LaCroix..."

        "Shh, slowly, mon coer.  It has been awhile for you, non?
You are so tight."  He pushed another finger in, stretching, and
preparing the way.

        She rocked against them, and reached for the part of him she
wanted.  Tonight there would be no holding back, this was her night.
She rubbed the length up and down, holding the velvet warmth in her
palm.  Would that skin feel so smooth against her cheek, she
wondered.  Later, she'd find out, later.

        "Now LaCroix!"  She didn't care if she sounded demanding.  He
added a third finger, spreading the hot moisture around her
entrance.  She guided the thick head to her opening, arching under
him, moving to accomadate his powerful flanks.  He rubbed it against
her first, lubricating the length in her juices, before slowly moving
his fingers away and replacing it with what she wanted.  As his head
entered, she stretched until she thought he'd rip her apart, and
still she needed more.  She pushed against him, sliding more of that
delicious length inside.

        He shuddered above her, the concentration and control it took
not to hurt her, making him shake.  Centimeter by centimeter he
pushed unerringly into her, until he seated himself fully.
Undulating against the fullness invading her body, she cried out, the
orgasm exploding through her.

        He pumped hard into her after that, surprisingly, it didn't
hurt, she demanded the roughness.  He went so deep, she felt him in
her stomach. Raking her hands across his back, she road the waves.
For hours they rocked together, tangling in the sheets, the
candlelight dimming, as the wicks burnt into the wax.  He rotated
against her until the slightest touch sent her shooting into climax.

        "You like that do you, my dear?"

        "Mmmm."  She ground her hips against him, wanting something
else, knowing that he still held back something.  When the smell of
his blood reached her nose, she ground against him.  A part of her
realized the link was bleeding over, as he lost control.   He thrust
wildly into her, and nuzzled his mouth against the pulse in her
neck.  She knew the end was at hand, and turned her head away,
welcoming this, the vampire as well as the man.

        His razor sharps fangs slip home, parting her skin like
butter.  An unintelligble sound caught in her throat, as she
sacrificed this to him.  Above he shuddered in his own releasing,
she felt the cool spurting of semen and blood against her cervix.
Her hands cradled his head to her, keeping him there, the unending
rapture sending her into one last orgasm.  She felt his satisfaction,
mirroring her own.  There was no time for fear, just a peaceful bliss
as she fell headlong into the darkness.

End Chapter 7