Fallen Ashes 3

Natalie spun about and watched as the cities patriarch stumbled into her lab.

As swing doors flopped silently home behind him and all she could do for several seconds was stare at the man before her. He was bent to one side, heavily favouring the other. He was unsteady on his feet, his face covered in his own blood.

"Doctor...if you would be so kind..." he managed before stumbling toward a table too far away to catch him before he fell. Natalie jerked forward and he grabbed hold of her to keep himself upright.

"Lacroix...what happened?" she asked him as she guided the ancient vampire toward her examining table.

"It's rather a long story," he replied, gasping for air. He winced heavily as she helped him up onto the stainless steel bench and eased him to lie down.

She could immediately see the array of puncture wounds covering his torso and, on closer inspection, she detected the shards of wooden splinters imbedded in his skin. Natalie noticed the wounds which no longer held splinters were not healing as they should.

"What happened?" she asked again, as she reached for a pair of scissors to cut the remains of his shirt off and his tattered pants away from his equally damaged legs.

"Just something of an accident, I'm afraid. Quite clumsy of me really..." he said, with a small, wan smile.

"Okay. Your upper body took the brunt of it. There are a few deep lacerations. This is going hurt, I'm afraid," she told him as she swapped the scissors for a scalpel and began slicing around the worst of the wounds to begin the labourious job of digging out the pieces of wood.

Lacroix grunted and closed his eyes, a hand moving to grip the edge of the table.

Natalie worked quickly to remove a half dozen splinters, most over two inches long, but after she threw the one clasped between her tweezers into a nearby kidney dish, she paused.

"We can't stay here," she announced. "The next shift will be arriving any minute."

Lacroix nodded weakly and made to sit up. As he wavered, Natalie stepped forward to help him right himself. She frowned. He really was in a bad way. She quickly wiped away as much blood as she could and handed him a set of green scrubs and his torn, yet wearable jacket.

Helping him strip the ruined clothing from his frame, she eased him into the scrubs and disposed of the bloody clothing into the biohazard bin.

Supporting him as he pushed tenderly from the table, Natalie couldn't help wincing in sympathy as he grimaced in pain. There were still numerous slivers of wood in his legs and body, and he appeared even paler than he did when he walked in.

"Wait here," she told him as she leant him against her desk.

Natalie moved quickly to gather up her handbag and change from her lab coat into her own winter coat. Last of all, she raided the fridge, shoving as many blood bags in her bag as she could fit.

Moving back to her patient, she placed an arm under his shoulders and without any argument, the vampire shuffled his way back the way he had come.

Natalie lifted her eyes from the slow pace of their staggering feet to see the front door of the morgue and sighed. They were almost there.

"Dr. Lambert!"

Natalie froze and her eyes widened in panic as the voice called out behind them. Natalie leaned Lacroix against the wall and turned to meet the security guard coming toward them from further up the corridor.

"Jimmy. How are you?"

"Just fine, Doc. I see you've had another late night," he asked her.

"Yeah, well I'm off now. Ben should be here to take over any minute." Natalie tried to keep her tone light and cheerful. But her heart was racing a mile a minute.

"Hey, is your friend there okay? He looks a mite peaked," the aging guard asked, motioning toward Lacroix as the vampire leaned heavily against the wall.

"He's come down with that flu going round," Natalie lied smoothly. Too smoothly she thought. She was hanging around vampires way too much. "I'm taking him home to bed."

"You need a hand?" Jimmy kindly offered.

"No, that's okay, Jimmy. We can manage. I've been exposed enough. There's no point in us all coming down with it." Natalie smiled and began to edge her way back to Lacroix, subtly communicating to the guard to be on his way.

"All righty, then. But you just holler if you change your mind."

"I will. Thanks, Jimmy. Say 'hi' to Karen for me."

"Will do, Doc. Goodnight, then," Jimmy said as he turned away. When he disappeared around the first corner, Natalie quickly moved to Lacroix's side. He was fading fast.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders this time and leaned on her heavily.

"I thought he'd never leave," Lacroix grunted.

"You're telling me. Jimmy's a good man, but he sure has rotten timing," she replied as she lugged the ancient toward the morgue doors and down the stairs. She sat him on a garden ledge and left him with her handbag.

"Help yourself to the bags inside while I go get the car," she said. Not waiting for a reply Natalie grabbed her keys and ran for her car parked around the block in the employees' carpark.

Lacroix looked down at the gaping handbag and the blood bags inside. He slowly lifted his hand, the weight of which having had increased a hundred fold in the past hour, and reached in to grasp one. Pulling it out, he lifted the bag to his extended fangs, and with more effort than he was used to, he managed to pierce the bag and slowly suck the contents out.

He sat and waited for the familiar tingle informing him the blood was being absorbed into his body and would begin to heal his wounds. It never came.

Sighing, he placed the empty plastic pouch back into the bag and waited for Natalie to return. The wait felt like forever, every wound in his body screaming for attention which he valiantly refused to bestow.

Not soon enough, a dark blue sedan emerged from behind the building and stopped before him.

Shear weakness forced him to wait for Natalie to come and help him back to his feet. He was almost ashamed that he could barely lift his head and move his legs as she held him upright. Almost. He was getting worse, and if he believed the invoice which listed the contents of the crate Nicholas had thrown him through, he knew he was bound to get a lot worse. He had no idea what the concoction of the potions would do, but he knew how they reacted individually, a good number of them at least.

It had been an accident of sorts, really. He was sure Nicholas had not meant to harm him quite so severely. But, then again, once the damage had been done, his son did not exactly linger and offer any help. In fact, he had left him without a backward glance on the loft floor in a bloody mess amongst the shattered bottles and burst plastic bags, their liquid contents and various powders seeping into his exposed wounds, tainting his blood, rapidly poisoning him. Nicholas had snarled, made a snide comment, which he could not recall, and left.

The attack had taken him by surprise. He had not expected such a violent reaction from Nicholas until further into their argument. But, as always, his son chose to change his tactics, and had caught him unawares.

The immediate injuries had pained him more than he had allowed his insolent child to bear witness to, and after the boy had departed, he had been able to climb from the mess and fly toward the safety of the Raven. Midway, however, he had been forced to land, dizziness, and fatigue suddenly sapping the energy from his body. It had taken a monumental effort to stumble to the city morgue and seek out the doctor's assistance. He had not been too proud to know that to avoid detection from mortals or to merely survive the nearing sunrise, he could not go on alone.

Natalie eased the debilitated man into the front passenger seat and placed her handbag beside him, creating an unconscious barrier between her and the potentially hungry vampire once she had slid behind the wheel.

"Where to?" she asked, placing her foot on the clutch and shoving the car in gear.

"My townhouse. Enter through the rear," he told her, letting his head loll back as he finished issuing his instructions.

"Where?" Natalie looked to the man beside her, slumped in his seat.

"Lacroix," she demanded louder, gaining his attention. "Where do you live?" she repeated. Lacroix roused and rolled his head toward her.

"84 Waterview,"

Natalie gunned the car to life and reached into the glovebox to pull out her city map. After quickly looking up the street address, she checked her mirrors and accelerated into the traffic.

They soon arrived at the address Lacroix had given her, and Natalie paused to look up at the old townhouse, recently restored to its original state of regal aristocracy. This was definitely not the wrong side of the tracks. She followed the road around to the rear of the house surrounded by a spacious yard and high shrub fences, giving the house complete privacy from the neighbors and curious passersby. It wasn't until they had entered a rear gate and navigated a short driveway did she get a full, unimpeded view of the vampire's home.

"This is some townhouse, Lacroix," she breathed. What could a person who lived on their own possibly need with a place this size? she thought, shaking her head. Who was she kidding? She'd give her left arm to live here, alone or not.

Pulling up as close as she could to the rear entrance, Natalie turned off the engine. In the sudden quiet, she turned to her passenger and leant over to turn his face towards her.

"Lucien?" A small moan let her know he was still conscious, if barely.

Stepping out and rounding the car, she opened his door and shook his shoulder.

"Lucien, you're going to have to help me. I can't carry you alone," she told him. He held his eyes closed as he nodded and paused for a moment before struggling to swing his legs from the vehicle.

Natalie leaned forward, placing her arms around under his arms and clasping them behind his back. She grunted and heaved upward, using the nursing technique to pull the weakened vampire to his feet. Employing the car as support, she leant him against the vehicle and closed the car door.

"Okay. We'll just take this slowly. One foot at a time," she said, encouraging him to walk toward the house. Lacroix dragged his right foot forward, the mortal woman basically holding him upright with a shoulder wedged under his arm. He moved the other foot forward and they soon had a slow rhythm taking them closer to the much needed relief within his home.

At the back door, Natalie fished into Lacroix's jacket pockets and drew out his keys. Opening the door, they continued through the sparse kitchen and into a large foyer toward a staircase regally curving up to the second floor.

"Let me guess. Your bedroom is upstairs, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Lacroix breathed.

"Okay, let's do this," she muttered taking a firm hold under his arm once again. Lacroix gripped the banister with his free hand, helping to pull him up the two dozen or so steps, to the landing above. Both were breathing hard when they reached the top, and Natalie felt herself take even more of the vampire's weight as he grew weaker and unsteady on his feet.

She threw the bedroom door open and they stumbled inside. She headed straight for the bed and let him collapse upon it.

"Sit up, and let me take off your coat," Natalie said, straining to pull him up into a sitting position, his legs still hanging over the edge. His head lolled as she pulled the lab coat off his shoulders and pulled his arms free.

She left the green scrubs on, but knelt to remove his shoes and socks. Tossing them aside, she pulled the sheet down, maneuvering him to lie down and lifting his feet onto the bed. With Lacroix finally in bed, Natalie wiped her moist brow.

"You owe me big time, Lucien," she told him in no uncertain terms.

Natalie turned to face the doorway, intent on returning to the car to retrieve her bag when Lacroix groaned.

"Natalie..." She turned back as he struggled to sit up. She moved forward to help him, and he announced, "I am going to be ill."

Luckily for them both, a metallic wastepaper bin was within reach, and Natalie brought it before her immortal patient bare moments before he vomited.

Natalie brushed a hand over his brow. He was warm to touch and her hand came away tainted with blood. This was one very sick vampire.

She lay him back against the pillows and ventured into the ensuite bathroom to rinse out the wastepaper bin and return it beneath the bedside table, should they need it again.

"Don't move. I will be right back," she told him and disappeared downstairs to her car.

On her return, he hadn't budged an inch and appeared to be sleeping.

"Come on," she roused him yet again. "I need to get these scrubs off and get at the rest of those splinters," she prodded him, and, thankfully, he groaned softly and helped her to sit up and pull the green hospital shirt over his head. Natalie had him roll onto his front where he immediately relaxed as he clutched a pillow under his head.

Natalie opened her medbag and pulled out a scalpel, tweezers and a wad of gauze.

"Okay, this may hurt a little," she said, moving in to make a small incision around the first embedded splinter.

"You are supposed to say, 'this won't hurt a bit'," he muttered. Lacroix's comment was cut short by a grunt as Natalie sliced into his pale skin.

Natalie worked as quickly as she could yet being careful enough to make sure she pulled out every last sliver of wood. Wiping the blood which oozed from the wounds so she could see what she was doing, she noticed the lacerations she had treated at the morgue. They were still open and the skin surrounding them, a vigorous pink. They almost looked infected, so as a precaution she applied liberal amounts of alcohol to the wounds, much to her patients discomfort. As she applied the last dressing she told him,

"There. All done."

"Not quite," a muffled voice contradicted. Natalie raised an eyebrow as Lacroix lifted his face from the pillow.

"There are one or two more," he told her.

"Where?" Natalie asked, searching his back and shoulders for any clues.

"Lower," he informed her.

"Okay, let's have a looksee," Natalie said nonchalantly, glad he couldn't see the smile uncontrollably pulling at her lips as she lowered the scrubs down over his hips and pulled them all the way off.

Nice ass, she thought.

"I have a rather good view of the mirror, doctor," Lacroix suddenly announced. Natalie shot her eyes toward the full length mirror across the room and sure enough, there he was, smirking at her.

"Smartass," she replied with a smile, before she went back to work. "Okay...my, that is a big one," she exclaimed. Before Lacroix had a chance to make his witty comeback to such a loaded statement, she pulled a large splinter from his posterior, eliciting a muffled yelp of pain.

Once finished, Natalie pulled the sheets up over his naked body. As the vampire slept, she took the time to take a tour of the immortal's home on her way to the kitchen where she hoped he would have a good supply of sangue, which he was certain to need when he woke, and frankly a scotch wouldn't go amiss right about now either.

End part 1

Part 2

An hour later, Natalie stood at the bedside staring upon the unconscious vampire, trying to figure out what to do. Was he really sick? Could he die from this? And worse still, could it be the virus that had almost destroyed the Community only a few months back? It was a very certain possibility. The virus could have mutated, become immune to the HIV which had cured its host in the past. A super-virus. Not a welcome thought.

To make any sort of judgement, let alone a diagnosis, she had to get a few samples. Opening her bag, she pulled out her equipment and began prodding the sleeping vampire, taking blood and skin samples.

She now had a new dilemma. She needed to use her lab to analyze these samples, but she also couldn't leave Lacroix here alone in the state he was in. As she glanced about the tastefully decorated room, she paused to stare at the Monet hanging on one of the walls. It's probably real, she thought. Her eyebrow rose as a thought entered her head.

Fumbling in his jacket pockets, she fished out the immortal's wallet. Opening it she found his driver's license, library card, and bingo...platinum Visa card.

"I'm sure he won't mind a bit," she muttered with a smile. Picking up the phone, Natalie called the medical technology company where the city morgue purchased and hired their equipment, and placed a rather large order.

The equipment arrived within the hour, and so did the pizza. She had spent the next two setting up a makeshift lab in the vampire's kitchen.

As she lifted the microscope from its box and placed it on the kitchen table, she heard a moan emanate from the upstairs bedroom. Leaving her chore, she ascended to the bedroom to check on her patient. The instant she walked in and saw him writhing on the bed, she knew he was worse. Sweat, shaded like watered-down blood, beaded his body and had begun to stain the sheets below. He was burning up.

She moved beside him and placed her hand over his brow. Definitely warmer than he should be.

She wiped her hand on the sheet before returning to the kitchen to gather a bowl of iced water and a teatowel that looked like it had never been used.

Sitting on the bed, she began applying a cold compress to his brow and wiping the cool water over his face and down his chest. He rolled over several times as he flailed in his sleep. He was not looking well at all.

For several minutes she bathed him, lifting his arms to wipe the iced water down the underside of his torso, trying to keep his temperature down. But it was a losing battle.

"Natalie?" he murmured, finally waking from his restless sleep.

"Yes, it's me," she said quietly.

"I feel hot," he told her weakly, barely able to open his eyes to look at her. She refreshed her cloth and wiped his brow again. It seemed to bring a welcome relief to the ailing vampire.

"You're sick, Lacroix. Try to sleep," she told him.

"Poison..."

"You were poisoned?"

He nodded.

"It was an accident," he implored. Natalie frowned. How could Lucien Lacroix accidentally poison himself? Impossible. It would never happen. However, that only left the possibility that someone else accidentally poisoned him. But who would dare do such a thing? Natalie's frown slid into a glare as she thought of the one person who would dare...Nick.

"Lucien. Did Nick do this to you?" she asked him.

"Accident..." he murmured, falling uncontrollably into sleep once again.

Natalie rose from beside the bed, already fuming, throwing her equipment back into her bag, and tiding the area away. How could Nick do such a thing? And after all they had both been through in past few months?! she berated. Well, at least it told her why Lacroix had a raging fever. Without the mortal digestive and cleansing system, the toxins were being forced from his body through the pores of his skin.

She had the lab set up downstairs; she may as well use it to try and alleviate the vampire's symptoms, and perhaps discover the combination of ingredients which had done this in the first place. And with the feeling this was not going to be over by this evening, Natalie slipped down to the kitchen to phone the morgue and book off for the next couple of days.

After an hour in her own lab, she packaged one of Lacroix's blood samples and couriered it over to the county lab for a full analysis, something she couldn't do here.

It would take several hours, so refilling her bowl of water, she returned to the bedroom to tend to her patient.

Natalie was jerked awake, almost falling from the armchair she had curled up in beside the bed.

Lacroix had shouted; his delirium was becoming worse as his temperature increased. He was human normal and she was really beginning to worry. High temperatures killed mortals, not to mention causing serious damage. It wasn't unheard of for someone to literally cook themselves from the inside out. She needed to get his temperature down and quickly.

Rising, she strode through to the bathroom and checked to see if it had a bathtub.

Check, on the tub, she thought, returning to the vampire's side. Looking down at the incapacitated, 6'3, 200-odd-pound man before her, she knew instantly she was going to need some help.

"It's about time I drafted Nicholas B. Knight," she muttered, picking up the phone on the bedside table.

Nick partially woke to the loud noise issuing from his answerphone. He rolled over and listened without opening his eyes.

"NICK KNIGHT, GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF BED THIS INSTANT!"

His eyes flew open. Was that Nat? Reaching for the extension, he frowned in confusion as to why she was sounding quite so angry.

"Nat?"

"Nick! Finally. I've been ringing for over fifteen minutes!"

"What's wrong?" he said, sitting up.

"I need your help, and if you say no, I will personally come over there and drag you over here by your short and curly's, do you understand me?!"

"Yes, Nat. Nat? What is this all about?" Nick started at her next words.

"It's about Lacroix. He is very sick, thanks to you, and I need your help with him right now," she told him firmly.

"Nat it's light out..."

"I don't care, Nick. This can not wait. Do you understand? We are at his townhouse. I don't care how you do it, but get over here now."

Nick jerked the telephone away from his ear as she slammed it down. He stared at the beeping receiver in his hand. Was he actually awake, or was this some rather bizarre dream?

He threw back the covers and rose to trot downstairs. The answerphone was blinking madly, full to the brim. He hit the play key and was instantly assaulted by Natalie's demanding tone.

He had severe reservations about going over to his sire's home. Though he didn't know who he was more afraid of, Lacroix or Natalie. However, he didn't doubt for a moment that she would indeed go through with her threat and come to get him if he failed to arrive anytime soon. Sighing, Nick crossed to the kitchen and pulled a bottle from the fridge. Frowning unhappily, he downed the contents as he walked back upstairs to dress.

Natalie stared at the phone, feeling much better after her rant at Nick. She moved her attention to Lacroix laying on is back, panting in small, rapid gasps, sweat still almost pouring from his body. Returning to the bathroom, she turned on the taps to fill the tub with cold water.

"I need ice," she muttered to herself. Trotting down to the kitchen as the bath filled, Natalie rummaged through the small freezer above the fridge. Not much there, and she had already used most of it. Maybe he kept a supply in the cellar. Almost jogging through the house, she located the basement door and descended into the dimly lit room.

"Whoa, some basement," she said at the bottom of the stairs. The room was an extravagant extension of the house, an apartment in itself. Bed, TV, the works. Glancing around, she spotted a large appliance partially hidden behind the stairs.

"Voila!" she exclaimed. A large freezer unit sat before her. Opening the lid, she grinned happily as she saw the bags of ice cubes alongside the multitude of frozen bloodpacks.

With the wet chill of three bags under her arms, she ran back upstairs to stop the bath from overflowing.

Nick pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed his master's home.

"Hello?"

"Nat, I'm just arriving. Could you open the gate and back door, please?"

"Sure, hang on," she said. Nick sighed when she didn't start yelling again. Much to his relief, it seemed she had calmed down somewhat.

"Go through to the rear entrance," he leaned forward to instruct his driver as they moved through the iron gates, automatically opening before them.

Natalie opened the back door and saw the Mercedes pull up outside. The windows were heavily tinted, and all she could see was the duly attired driver at the wheel.

The moment the car came to a halt, the rear door opened and a blur shot out like a bullet and breezed past her into the welcome darkness of the house.

Natalie shut the door and turned to see Nick shaking his long, black coat from his shoulders, the barest whispers of smoke rising from his hands.

Without much ado, she pulled on his arm and hauled him toward the stairs.

"Come on, I need your help."

Nick sighed and followed dutifully, willing to do anything to find out why she was so angry with him.

He froze in his master's doorway.

"What happened?" he asked, a puzzled frown crossing his face as he saw his sire laying half-naked on the bed, soaked in sweat and mumbling incoherently, his shallow, rapid breaths tightening the feeling of dread in his gut.

"You should know," Natalie accused him, bending over to fuss over her patient.

"Why should I know?"

"You did this to him, Nick." She stood up and placed her hands on her hips.

Nick stared at her, then down at his sire as he moved closer to the bed.

"The crate," he whispered. He rose his eyes to meet Natalie's. "I didn't mean for this to happen, Nat. You have to believe me," he implored. Natalie sighed heavily and let her arms fall to her sides.

"I know, Nick. But I am so sick of you two fighting like this. Especially now," she told him. She pursed her lips as he hung his head.

"Come on. I need you to lift him into the bath. He's burning up, and we need to cool him down," she ordered. Nick nodded and rolled up his sleeves. Bending over his sire, Natalie pulled away the sheets, and he lifted the master vampire into his arms and gently carried him into the adjoining bathroom.

Natalie guided the way to the ice-filled bath tub, and supervised Nick as he slowly lowered Lacroix into the icy water.

Lacroix gasped and writhed slightly as he was submerged.

"It's okay, Lucien. This will make you feel a whole lot better," she told him softly, scooping the water over his chest.

"Let his head get wet, Nick," she instructed quietly as Nick lowered Lacroix until his head dipped briefly beneath the water.

"Just a couple of minutes. I don't want him to get too cold."

Five minutes later, Natalie asked Nick,

"How does he feel?"

"It's hard to say. My hands are cold, but I think he's almost normal."

"Okay, pull him out."

Nick lifted Lacroix back out of the water, and Natalie threw a towel over him and quickly rubbed him dry before Nick stood and walked him back to bed.

"He needs to sweat the toxins out, but we may have to do that again," she told Nick.

"I'll book off and stay," he told her, pulling the sheets back up to Lacroix's waist.

"Have you had some sleep yet?" he asked her.

"A few minutes,"

"Why don't you go and lie down for awhile? I'll watch him."

"Yeah, I think I will," he told him, smiling gently. "Thanks for coming, Nick."

"You mean I had a choice?" he asked her with a smile.

"Well, no, but I'm glad anyway." She smirked back.

She leant down, and he met her kiss with his own.

"Sleep well," he whispered, and let his hand trail down her arm as she moved away.

End part 2

Part 3

Nick had taken up residence in the armchair next to Lacroix's bed. He watched as the elder slept, finally settling down into a more peaceful sleep, and Nick, too, found himself drifting off.

"ANNHHHGH!!"

Nick shot upright as his master screamed in agony. Lacroix clutched at his stomach and thrashed upon the bed, twisting himself in the bedclothes.

The noise had brought Natalie running in from the bedroom across the hall.

"What happened?!" she demanded.

"I don't know. He just woke up," Nick told her, feeling helpless and in a near panic.

Natalie moved toward the bed and placed a hand on the older vampire's shoulder to roll him toward her.

"Lucien! What's wrong?" she asked him. But he seemed unable to speak and just shook his head as he continued to clutch his stomach tightly.

"Are you in pain?" she asked him.

He nodded sharply.

"Where?"

Lacroix moved his hands a little to his right side as he squeezed his eyes tighter.

Gods! He felt as though he had been run-through.

"Nick, hold him down while I examine him," Natalie ordered, swiftly retrieving her bag from the bureau. Nick did her bidding without comment and moved onto the bed to take a firm hold of his sire's shoulders. Natalie moved her hands slowly over the vampire's abdomen. As she passed over the spot he had shown her, he flinched heavily and gasped for air. Natalie gently pressed around the area and he cried out in pain, not caring if his son was present to hear or not.

"Nick, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he had appendicitis," she diagnosed, perplexed as to what was happening.

"How is that possible?" he asked her.

"It's not, supposedly. But there is one way we can be sure," she said.

"And that's...?"

"To see if there is any swelling," Natalie said, reaching back into her bag to retrieve a latex glove.

"And we do that how?"

Natalie snapped the glove on her right hand, and pulled out a small bottle. She placed a generous measure of the gel-like substance on her first two fingers of the gloved hand and told Nick,

"We go in. Turn him onto his side and hang on."

"Nat, what...?"

Natalie wiggled her fingers, and Nick realised what she was about to do.

"Oh," he said and reapplied a sure grip on his sire, holding Lacroix on his side as Natalie moved behind his sire and began her physical exam. His master tensed a little beneath his hands at the invasion, but he was in too much pain to really worry about the discomfort caused by his doctor.

"I don't believe it," Natalie muttered as she felt inside Lacroix intestine. "It's pretty swollen in there," she announced, withdrawing her fingers and removing the glove.

"How is that possible, Nat?"

"The toxins from the poison have most likely concentrated there. We have to get it out," she told Nick in no uncertain terms.

"But how? And won't it just grow back again?"

"Most likely, but at least we will take a good portion of the toxins with it."

"Nat, we can't operate on him," Nick implored, relaxing his grip on his master slightly.

"Why not? His wounds aren't healing, so they should stay open long enough," Natalie said, pulling items from her bag, and began taking the vampire's temperature and blood pressure.

"Because even I can't hold him down through such an invasion. He would likely kill us both before he knew what he was doing."

"What if we doped him up with curare?"

"Could work, but I can't say for sure. He already has a few mls in him. It's preventing his wounds from closing, at least in part," he said slowly, thinking the option through.

"We'll just have to try it...and then you are going to inventory a complete list of exactly what was in that box, Nick," Natalie demanded, holding the detectives guilt laden gaze.

"Okay, Nat." He nodded, adding, "But operating on him...I don't know, Nat..."

"Get...it...out!" Lacroix suddenly growled beneath them.

Both of them looked down at the man writhing in agony. Natalie looked to Nick, and he merely sighed and nodded.

They spent an agonizing two hours waiting for a shipment of curare to arrive. Nick had called upon the resourceful services of Feliks Twist, a vampire renowned for getting what you wanted when you wanted it. He did a remarkable job, if you asked her. Curare wasn't exactly an off-the-shelf item you could pick up at a local drugstore.

The moment the courier arrived, they got to work. Natalie had Nick help her prepare the kitchen table with restraints and set up her equipment. They had to add extra lighting to the room so she could see what she was doing during the operation.

So with lamps scattered over the room and on bench tops, and the rope Nick had padded with towels, ready to tie the vampire to the table, Natalie deemed themselves ready.

Nick carried Lacroix from the bed and downstairs to the kitchen, laying him out on the table.

Nick carefully strapped his legs, then arms down, with an extra loop over his chest and around the table. Lacroix was barely conscious, exhaustion and pain wearing him down.

Natalie bent over her patient and brushed a hand over his forehead as he cracked open his eyes to give her a small, reassuring smile.

"Do your worst, doctor," he told her. Natalie smirked and asked him,

"You ready for this?" She held the syringe full of curare in her hand where he could see it. Gods, yes, he was ready. Lacroix nodded and closed his eyes again; he'd rather not watch.

Nick looked down at his sire while holding one of his hands in his. This was all his fault. If he had only checked to see if Lacroix had been all right! But he had been so angry, he had just had to leave. He had felt the pain as his sire had crashed through the packing crate, the shards of wood stinging his skin as though they were piercing his own, not his master's. But, still, he had just left him, and this was the result.

Nick leant down to his sire's ear and whispered, almost in tears,

"I'm sorry...Forgive me..."

Just as Natalie was injecting the anesthetic, Lacroix turned to brush his lips again his son's forehead.

Nick rose, about to say more, but his sire's head lolled to the side and his body fell limp.

"Nick, I need your help. We have to do this quickly. There's no saying how long he will be under."

He glanced over to his friend, now in full doctor mode, and pulled himself together.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Take these. Wipe as much blood away as you can. I need to see what I am doing," she told him as she handed him a roll of swabs and continued to move instruments into place. Taking scalpel in hand, Natalie paused and glanced up at the detective standing across from her.

"Ready?"

Nick took a deep breath and nodded.

"Okay, let's do this," she said, leaning forward to make the first incision.

Nick did his best to mop up the blood as it oozed and pooled in the cavity Natalie had made in his sire's abdomen. He was amazed as the wound refused to heal as it should. In fact, if it had it would have made this operation impossible; the incision would normally have closed almost the moment Natalie cut it. He watched in quiet awe at the skill of the doctor before him as she poked and prodded the internal workings of Lacroix's intestine.

She could have been a surgeon, he thought But he, for one, was eternally thankful she had decided to become a crack-shot ME instead.

"Good grief!" she exclaimed, and Nick turned his attention from her beautifully intent face to her bloodied hands buried deep in his sire.

"Would look at the size of it," she said, in rapture at the organ in her hand.. Nick stretched his neck to look at what she held.

"Is it supposed to be that big?" he asked.

"Not unless you wanted to play the odds on turning up on my examining table. I would say it was almost ready to burst."

Quickly Natalie clamped off the vein and took her scissors to cut the offending organ from the ancient's body.

True to her word, as the doctor placed the swollen appendix into a kidney dish, it burst open, splattering and oozing a black substance over her scrubs and the bench.

"Gross," Nick said as he watched her inspect the organ for a moment longer.

"You had better steer clear of this stuff, Nick. God knows what it will do to you," she told him, turning back to sew up her patient.

As she fastened the last, neat suture, Nick smiled.

"Nice work, doctor."

"You didn't do so bad yourself, Doctor Knight. I guess it's not unlike riding a bike," she said.

"Just add the sound of cannon and the stench of rotten flesh and gunpowder, and it'll be just like the good ol' days," he quipped, and he smiled as Natalie chuckled.

With their patient cleaned up, Nick released the bindings from the table and gathered his sire into his arms and carried him back upstairs to his bed.

Natalie, meanwhile, began cleaning up the horrendous mess the operation had created. She took plenty of samples from the burst appendix and the noxious poison within, and put them aside to analyse properly after she had acquired a few more hours sleep.

The room swam as he opened his eyes, and he quickly shut them again. The burning, stabbing pain from his stomach had dissipated to a dull ache, and he dared to take a long, slow breath and release it before opening his eyes again.

It was better this time, though not perfect. He still felt warm, and tired...gods he was tired.

"It's all right. The operation was a success. Sleep now," he heard his son whisper.

Thankfully, he let his eyes close once again, and drifted off to sleep.

Nick watched as his sire slipped into slumber and quietly left him alone to join Natalie in a few more hours of rest themselves.

Natalie smiled as the bed shifted under Nick's weight as he lay down behind her, molding his body against hers and wrapping his arms about her. She held his hands to her stomach, and he sighed into her hair. Although she would prefer it if they were far from fully clothed and snuggled beneath the covers, she luxuriated in this rare moment of intimacy.

They lay quietly, relaxing for a moment before Natalie asked,

"Do you ever worry about him?"

"Lacroix?"

"Mmm."

"No. Not really before today," Nicked replied.

Natalie turned her head slightly toward him.

"He always seems so lonely..." she said quietly.

"You think so? I never much thought about it," he said. But he frowned a little all the same.

"He lives in this big, old house all by himself. He has a one-man radio show, and spends most of his time playing the mighty, untouchable patriarch at the Raven."

"He's never been much of a people person, Nat."

"Perhaps not. But still..."

"It's his own doing. He constantly pushes everyone away,"

"Except you."

"Especially me," Nick countered.

"What do you mean? He is always coming after you, demanding you come back to him," she asked. "You've told me a thousand stories about what he used to do."

"Why do you think I left in the first place? He smothered me to the point where I couldn't be my own man. In his eyes I was a child needing to be told what to do every moment of the day. I wanted to go left, he made me go right...Perhaps it was unintentional, but it had the same effect. I had to get away. But, as you know, he wouldn't let me go. So I ran."

"Do you think he regrets what he did?"

"No, not really. It's not his way to regret the past."

"Not such a bad creed to live by."

"Perhaps, at times, but in the long run, does it make him a better man?"

Although she agreed that Lacroix was far from a saint, there was a part of her that saw more in Lucien Lacroix than Nick had ever been able to in the past. She knew better. She was all too aware that the master vampire carried his fair share of demons.

Maybe, just maybe, this whole episode could help mould a new beginning for the relationship between Nick and his vampire father. She could only hope. For all their sakes.

Over a week later, the last of the medical equipment was being hauled out into the sun and onto the delivery truck, while Natalie did a last check about the kitchen before closing her bag and placing it on the counter, ready to depart.

"Well, I must say, it has been an experience, doctor," a familiar, smooth voice announced itself from the doorway behind her.

Natalie turned and cocked a smile toward the vampire leaning against the doorframe.

"I thought you were in bed," she told him.

"I thought it wise to make sure your helpers had departed before retiring."

They listened as the truck roared to life and trundled off down the driveway.

"I suppose I owe you a debt of gratitude, doctor," Lacroix said with apparent nonchalance.

Natalie smiled and lifted her bag over her shoulder.

"I think I'll take that as a heartfelt thank you...and you're welcome," she replied, her amusement obvious.

They stood silently for a long moment, before it threatened to become uncomfortable and Natalie shifted her feet.

"Well, I guess that's my cue. I'll see you later...and remember eight weeks, Lacroix. The toxin will take all of that time to dissipate, so don't go throwing yourself in front of any moving vehicles or like activity before then...I've taken up most of my vacation time this year on you already."

"Yes, doctor, My memory seems unaffected by the toxin, thank you," he told her off firmly, the twinkle of amusement in his eye softened the rebuke.

"Good. I'll be back on Friday to take fresh samples. Hopefully the news will only get better from here. " Natalie said and sighed as she gave the vampire a small wave. "Good day, Lucien," she said, and turned to quickly walk out the sun-drenched doorway, closing it securely behind her.

"Thank you, Natalie," he whispered after her.

Lacroix moved to lock and check the door before turning in for the day. He didn't know quite why he liked her so much, she really was quite impetuous. But as he turned from the door to the empty kitchen and house beyond, he felt the space and emptiness almost overwhelm him. For the past week, the good doctor and his son had spent a great deal of time, here running tests on the samples she had gathered, determining the rate of dissipation from his blood, and attempting to find a remedy to counter the effects should they reoccur in the future, all the while coddling him to the point of nausea. But all the same, he had enjoyed their company.

Now that everything was back to normal, the past days seemed surreal to the point that he wondered if it hadn't all just been a dream.

Sighing, he shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and crossed the room to make his way slowly up the stairs to his room above. Just another fateful night on the endless path of eternity.

Finis.

Hmmm...More?

End part 3