Ends and Beginnings
By Kayla Gayle
Disclaimer: Standard issue applies here—I do not own them, if I did the third season never would have happened and it would still be on the air. Oh well....
However, I do own the characters of Carey, Esme, and the other Reno Vamps. Do not use without permission, if you please.
I have been reading FORKN Fan Fic's for a while now and have never posted, so some of what may have been written may creep in. For great fics on this subject, thanks to Mel Mosher's site, Mr. Happy's site and of course, Susan Garrett, who is possibly the best of the best of Forever Knight writers. I owe her Vampire's Anonymous series a great debt.
Timeline is after Last Knight. Oh yes, this could be considered a kind of Dark Knightie story. N&NPakers may want to leave now, though she's treated with great respect.
Rating is most likely PG-13.
Enjoy. Constructive criticism allowed, flames are not. This is a VAMPIRE story after all....
CHAPTER ONE
The Raven was crowded that night. The thump of the techno music that LaCroix had been playing as of late was appreciated by the crowd—mortal and immortal alike. The one person in the club who was not seemingly having a good time was the tall blond man sitting in a back booth, sipping a glass of red wine.
Or rather, bovine. Nicolas De Brabant—a.k.a. Nick Knight—had given up on human blood long ago. Fed up with being a creature of darkness, he wanted to walk in the light, to be mortal once again. He thought he had that chance this go around, for the coroner Natalie Lambert had been helping him to come back across.
Now all was changed. Nat lay in a hospital, the victim of a mugger who stopped her, as she was about to enter Nick's loft. Or at least, that was the story Nick told IA, and Nat had backed him up, when she woke up and was coherent. His "father" could not bring himself to stake his "son". And it was LaCroix who flew Nat to the emergency room and then disappeared before anyone knew what was about.
Tracy too was alive—sharing Nat's room, by coincidence or not. Backup had arrived in time to save her, the hospital had her records crossed with another's. Her father threatened to sue the hospital, and the uproar put more regulations into place to make sure that it did not happen to anyone else. To add to it all, Don Schanke was still living. He had been comatose since the plane crash. He had been mistaken for another, for Schanke had left his seat. He had just awoken several weeks ago, still shaky with his memories but still Schanke. Janette had left word as well; she was in her beloved Paris. Her mortal charge was with relatives of Robert's.
So all should have been well in Nick-land, but it was not. Pending investigation of the Lambert issue, as the Captain said, Nick had been suspended. Not permanently, he was assured. Just a temporary measure.
Nick took another sip out of his glass. He grimaced at the taste. Since tasting Nat's blood, the beast had wanted to take control. He felt a light tap on his shoulder and he turned to see a female vampire standing there.
"Hi," she said, brightly.
"Hello."
"My name is Gilda MacGuffin. And you must be the infamous Nick."
Nick regarded her. Like all creatures of his type, he had a fantastic memory. Gilda just was not familiar.
"No," she laughed, knowing his thought train. "We've never met. However, everyone knows you—and your quest."
"If you've come to poke fun, I'm not in the mood," warned Nick.
"Not poke fun." She said, as she gestured toward the empty seat opposite Nick. "May I join you?"
A shrug from the noncommittal detective and the woman sat.
"I just wanted to talk with you."
"About what?" asked a wary Nick.
"Do you really wish to become mortal? Or just regain your humanity?"
Nick thought about this a moment. Gilda continued.
"Listen, I was brought across in 1304, not too long after yourself. It was in northern England. I too know the pressure the church pressed on us back then. You considered yourself a good Catholic; something that you thought lost when you came over. You were a knight of the crusades, after all. Going after the infidels in the Holy Land, questing for God and country."
Silence from across the table. Gilda sighed.
"You wish to atone for your sins, to save your soul. You can do that all, Nick. As a vampire."
He looked up at her at that.
"Tell me, do you use your—um—'special skills' often? Do you fly to a crime scene? Use your senses to help those in need? How many cases would you have solved, Nick, if you were human? Hmm? Think about it—no dramatic rescues, no hearing cries for help...and as for danger, well, you would have been dead. How many times have you been shot, or almost killed by a, how do you say, perp?"
Nick shook his head. "That was different. I was trying to..."
"No, you just don't want your soul to be dammed. That is that medieval thinking once more rearing its ugly little head. You can still pray, Nick. Just not near any crosses. And fooling mortals into thinking you're one of them is a worse lie. Your wanting to be like them nearly cost two partners their lives."
"One."
She shook her head. "Two. If you were mortal, you never would have solved the case that put your first partner on that plane. And if you had, you could have gone yourself. And your coroner friend, whom you claim to love? You were about to bring her over, make her what you despise. And poor Janette! She was mortal, you brought her across as well, against her wishes."
Nick had the grace to blush. It was all true, but who was this? Had someone sent her?
"No, you like being a vampire. You like the power, the glory, just not the killing. You can be a happy vamp without committing murder, you know. You can drink human blood as well..."
"That is what keeps me from coming across," he said, parroting Nat's words.
Her laugh sounded like ice tinkling in a glass.
"No, Nicholas. That is what keeps you alive, as it were. You are constantly hungry, are you not? That means you can lose control too easily. Human blood can be acquired without the hunt. I have a friend, and you have been in Toronto too long. All your human friends know about our existence. The sooner you leave, the more they live."
She handed Nick a business card—it belonged to someone named Cary Shelley. The address was Reno, Nevada. Suddenly a light shone in his brain, she was a type of Enforcer. This was a warning. Veiled—but a warning. Gilda rose to leave, touching a hand to her flame-colored hair. She held her hand out and Nick, ever the 12th century persona, kissed it. It earned him a smile as she kissed his cheek.
"Heed my words well, Monsieur De Brabant. Adieu."
And she was gone, leaving behind a quite astonished vampire in her wake.
By Kayla Gayle
Disclaimer: Standard issue applies here—I do not own them, if I did the third season never would have happened and it would still be on the air. Oh well....
However, I do own the characters of Carey, Esme, and the other Reno Vamps. Do not use without permission, if you please.
I have been reading FORKN Fan Fic's for a while now and have never posted, so some of what may have been written may creep in. For great fics on this subject, thanks to Mel Mosher's site, Mr. Happy's site and of course, Susan Garrett, who is possibly the best of the best of Forever Knight writers. I owe her Vampire's Anonymous series a great debt.
Timeline is after Last Knight. Oh yes, this could be considered a kind of Dark Knightie story. N&NPakers may want to leave now, though she's treated with great respect.
Rating is most likely PG-13.
Enjoy. Constructive criticism allowed, flames are not. This is a VAMPIRE story after all....
CHAPTER ONE
The Raven was crowded that night. The thump of the techno music that LaCroix had been playing as of late was appreciated by the crowd—mortal and immortal alike. The one person in the club who was not seemingly having a good time was the tall blond man sitting in a back booth, sipping a glass of red wine.
Or rather, bovine. Nicolas De Brabant—a.k.a. Nick Knight—had given up on human blood long ago. Fed up with being a creature of darkness, he wanted to walk in the light, to be mortal once again. He thought he had that chance this go around, for the coroner Natalie Lambert had been helping him to come back across.
Now all was changed. Nat lay in a hospital, the victim of a mugger who stopped her, as she was about to enter Nick's loft. Or at least, that was the story Nick told IA, and Nat had backed him up, when she woke up and was coherent. His "father" could not bring himself to stake his "son". And it was LaCroix who flew Nat to the emergency room and then disappeared before anyone knew what was about.
Tracy too was alive—sharing Nat's room, by coincidence or not. Backup had arrived in time to save her, the hospital had her records crossed with another's. Her father threatened to sue the hospital, and the uproar put more regulations into place to make sure that it did not happen to anyone else. To add to it all, Don Schanke was still living. He had been comatose since the plane crash. He had been mistaken for another, for Schanke had left his seat. He had just awoken several weeks ago, still shaky with his memories but still Schanke. Janette had left word as well; she was in her beloved Paris. Her mortal charge was with relatives of Robert's.
So all should have been well in Nick-land, but it was not. Pending investigation of the Lambert issue, as the Captain said, Nick had been suspended. Not permanently, he was assured. Just a temporary measure.
Nick took another sip out of his glass. He grimaced at the taste. Since tasting Nat's blood, the beast had wanted to take control. He felt a light tap on his shoulder and he turned to see a female vampire standing there.
"Hi," she said, brightly.
"Hello."
"My name is Gilda MacGuffin. And you must be the infamous Nick."
Nick regarded her. Like all creatures of his type, he had a fantastic memory. Gilda just was not familiar.
"No," she laughed, knowing his thought train. "We've never met. However, everyone knows you—and your quest."
"If you've come to poke fun, I'm not in the mood," warned Nick.
"Not poke fun." She said, as she gestured toward the empty seat opposite Nick. "May I join you?"
A shrug from the noncommittal detective and the woman sat.
"I just wanted to talk with you."
"About what?" asked a wary Nick.
"Do you really wish to become mortal? Or just regain your humanity?"
Nick thought about this a moment. Gilda continued.
"Listen, I was brought across in 1304, not too long after yourself. It was in northern England. I too know the pressure the church pressed on us back then. You considered yourself a good Catholic; something that you thought lost when you came over. You were a knight of the crusades, after all. Going after the infidels in the Holy Land, questing for God and country."
Silence from across the table. Gilda sighed.
"You wish to atone for your sins, to save your soul. You can do that all, Nick. As a vampire."
He looked up at her at that.
"Tell me, do you use your—um—'special skills' often? Do you fly to a crime scene? Use your senses to help those in need? How many cases would you have solved, Nick, if you were human? Hmm? Think about it—no dramatic rescues, no hearing cries for help...and as for danger, well, you would have been dead. How many times have you been shot, or almost killed by a, how do you say, perp?"
Nick shook his head. "That was different. I was trying to..."
"No, you just don't want your soul to be dammed. That is that medieval thinking once more rearing its ugly little head. You can still pray, Nick. Just not near any crosses. And fooling mortals into thinking you're one of them is a worse lie. Your wanting to be like them nearly cost two partners their lives."
"One."
She shook her head. "Two. If you were mortal, you never would have solved the case that put your first partner on that plane. And if you had, you could have gone yourself. And your coroner friend, whom you claim to love? You were about to bring her over, make her what you despise. And poor Janette! She was mortal, you brought her across as well, against her wishes."
Nick had the grace to blush. It was all true, but who was this? Had someone sent her?
"No, you like being a vampire. You like the power, the glory, just not the killing. You can be a happy vamp without committing murder, you know. You can drink human blood as well..."
"That is what keeps me from coming across," he said, parroting Nat's words.
Her laugh sounded like ice tinkling in a glass.
"No, Nicholas. That is what keeps you alive, as it were. You are constantly hungry, are you not? That means you can lose control too easily. Human blood can be acquired without the hunt. I have a friend, and you have been in Toronto too long. All your human friends know about our existence. The sooner you leave, the more they live."
She handed Nick a business card—it belonged to someone named Cary Shelley. The address was Reno, Nevada. Suddenly a light shone in his brain, she was a type of Enforcer. This was a warning. Veiled—but a warning. Gilda rose to leave, touching a hand to her flame-colored hair. She held her hand out and Nick, ever the 12th century persona, kissed it. It earned him a smile as she kissed his cheek.
"Heed my words well, Monsieur De Brabant. Adieu."
And she was gone, leaving behind a quite astonished vampire in her wake.
