Choices of the Heart
by
Lisa Y. Drexel
"Oh, that's just fucking great," Nick Wolfe whispered as he felt the tingling of a nearby Immortal.
He reached into his pocket and touched his gun and kept on walking-praying that he didn't betray himself or his Immortality.
He studied his surroundings, having never been to St. Louis, and decided that there was something strangely appealing about the neighborhood he found himself in. Storefronts lined the streets; outdoor cafes were scattered about along with music pouring out into the comfortable summer air.
It was unusually cool for June-he was wearing a jean jacket and not even breaking a sweat. From what he'd gathered from the evening news and bits and pieces of conversations he overheard, this was not normal.
Oh well, better for him-he hated hot, humid summers.
He pulled out a piece of paper and stopped under a street light and re-read the address. Then he glanced up at the lighted sign above the door: Wolfe's Bane.
He was in the right place.
Hopefully the Immortal he felt was Michelle Evans and not someone else. He really didn't feel like dealing with other Immortals, especially without a sword.
He knew he could always just shoot whomever and then hightail it out of there, but he really didn't want to take any chances-with Immortals or the local police.
He took a deep breath and opened the door, reminding himself why he'd taken the direct flight from Paris to St. Louis
He needed to find someone like him.
A new Immortal that knew all the players-in other words, who knew Amanda. After a quick call to Lucy and a promise she wouldn't tell Amanda that he called-at least not for a few days-he got the name of two Immortals that fit the bill: Michelle Evans-student of Adam Pierson and Richie Ryan-student of Duncan MacLeod.
He hadn't met either of the older Immortals, but had heard of both of them, albeit unintentionally. Although Amanda liked to keep her past lovers a secret, Nick could tell by the way her eyes widened when Liam had brought up Duncan MacLeod's name-that there was a past there.
And Adam Pierson. His situation was more complicated.
Nick didn't know all the details, but when he did overhear a conversation between Joe Dawson and Amanda right before he moved to Paris and Nick was more intrigued than he cared to admit. Something about Adam's identity being out and how he went underground, leaving his student to fend for herself.
It sounded like he and Michelle had more in common than just becoming Immortals, Nick thought to himself as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the club.
As he walked through the doorway, her buzz was becoming stronger and Nick allowed it to pull him through the throes of people until suddenly he was free.
He stopped at the sight of two women watching him carefully. Both attractive, but in different ways. The brunette was tall, pale and almost ethereal in her appearance. She exuded grace and beauty-almost as if it were a facade that she wore for all who cared to notice.
The blond-she was the Immortal. Once Nick and her eyes met-that annoying buzz slipped into something akin to ringing in his ears. Her hair was long and in one braid that hung over her shoulder and reached her waist. The hair that had slipped out curled against her face in somewhat of a wild, whimsical way. Her dark gray eyes were watching him carefully, but Nick could see her intelligence and sense of humor shine out. But also wariness.
A lot of wariness.
Nick made sure that both of his hands were visible and walked over to her and held out his hand in greeting.
"Michelle Evans?"
She nodded slowly, ignoring the other waitresses as she squeezed her arm and disappeared towards the back of the bar. "Yes," she acknowledged her voice tired and apprehensive.
"I come in peace," he said softly watching her eyes narrow in distrust. "Nick Wolfe-I'm a friend of Amanda's."
Nick watched as her body seemed to instantly lose that shroud of nervousness that seemed to envelop her. She started as she glanced at his hand and grinned self-depreciating as she shook his. "Oh God-I'm sorry-it's just been a lousy month. Glad to meet you, Nick. Did you know that Amanda's got APB out on you?"
Nick chuckled softly as he shrugged. "Figures. I definitely left kinda quickly."
Michelle let go of his hand and turned around. Nick looked behind her to see the other waitress and dark, longhaired man walk over to her. The man gently caressed her face, worry evident in his pale face.
"Don't worry. Remember that phone call I got yesterday from Paris?"
He nodded as his eyes suddenly widened in surprise. "So this is the missing 'person' in question?"
She chuckled as she nodded. "Nick Wolfe, Javier Vachon," she said, pointing to the man.
Nick nodded in greeting. "It seems that Amanda is stirring up trouble from across the ocean," he commented as he slipped up onto one of the barstools.
Michelle shook her head at him. "She's worried sick about you-that's all. "
He said nothing, still feeling raw and angry about the whole situation.
She gave him a long lookover and frowned. "You look like I did a couple of months ago. When did you eat or sleep last?
Nick was about to say about 36 hours ago, but when he opened his mouth a yawn slipped out.
She grinned. "That's what I thought. You have a place to stay?"
He frowned, realizing he hadn't even bothered with that little detail. Once he got off the plane, he sat in one of those lounges at the airport, watched the news as he studied a street guide for the city. Other than that and renting a car, he hadn't stopped being on the move since.
Since he died.
His eyes shut as that memory flooded him and just shook his head.
"You can stay with me."
Nick's eyes flew open in time to catch her turning to Vachon. "Can you take him to the apartment? Show him the delivery menus and such? I'll be off in an hour."
"Are you sure, Querida?"
So, he's Spanish. Too light skinned to be from the side of the Atlantic. But no accent.
She nodded, as she squeezed his hand. "I'm sure." She leaned over and whispered in Vachon's ear-just loud enough for Nick to hear. "He doesn't even a have a sword-unless he picked one up somewhere between Paris and here, right?"
Nick nodded glumly, trying to ignore the blush of embarrassment that washed over him. "I was a little too ticked."
Not much of an explanation, but the truth.
Vachon shot Nick one more look-as if to assess Nick's real intentions-and then pecked Michelle on the cheek. "Sure thing, Mike. See ya in an hour, then?"
"In an hour," she repeated, nodding. She looked back over at Nick and gave him a reassuring smile. "Go on. I'll be home in an hour. Relax. Mi casa es su casa."
Nick let out a deep breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding and smiled at her. Rest and safety. Two things that he desperately needed right now. "Thank you, Michelle," he said as he stood up and
stretched.
"Call me Mike. And no problem. Amanda's always been good to me and you look like you need a friendly face." She stopped suddenly and frowned. "I don't know how much you know about me and my situation-"
"You mean about Adam?"
Her eyes seemed to sadden for a second. "Yeah, with him. I can't get into it here, but I'll tell you later. It's just that right now, being around me is not necessarily safe. I've already been challenged once this week and three times last week. I can promise you that me-and Vachon-will do everything we can to keep you out of it. I won't let anyone go after you and if by chance I don't make it, he'll make sure you get on the next plane out of here."
"It's okay," he said, now trying to reassure her. "It can't be any worse than Paris, can it?"
She shrugged, obviously still troubled. "No, but it's close right now."
He felt the need to comfort her and reached for her hand. "Don't worry about it, Mike. I just need to talk to you and then I'll leave. Either I'll go back to Amanda or look up Richie Ryan. He was next on my list."
She lightened up a bit. "Oh okay, and Duncan MacLeod is up there too. And if you're still upset with Amanda, at least he can give you a few pointers until you're ready to face her." She looked back over at Vachon. "Stay close to him and if there's any trouble-get him out of there and go to the Old Cathedral, okay?"
"Don't worry, Querida. I'll make sure his head remains intact, okay?"
She rolled her eyes at him. "Get out of here before the General wants my blood for dawdling."
Nick frowned, for some reason troubled by her figure of speech, reminded of the flippant way Amanda and Liam would make 'head' jokes when they were in an especially contrary mood.
*You're just exhausted, Nicky-boy. Dying of poisoning hastened by a gunshot will do that to you. Let it go,* he told himself as he watched Vachon move over to Nick.
"Come on, Wolfe. Let's get ya home before she takes my head," he muttered under his breath as he waved a hand in front of Nick's eyes, breaking his daze.
Taking the other man's cue, Nick nodded and was turning around to leave when he saw a tall, imposing, blond-haired man step out into that same hallway that Vachon had come from and signal to Mike.
*Spooky,* thought Nick as he glanced at his new companion and began walking to the door.
Nick picked up the stack of menus in one hand and his coffee in the other and sat down on the table, across from Vachon.
"So, how do you know about Immortals?" Nick asked him as he separated the pizza menus from the rest.
Looking up, he watched Vachon shrug as he sipped his own mug. "I've heard of them, but Mike's the first one I had actually met in person."
Nick frowned as he tossed aside the Dominos menu. It gave him heartburn. "It's not as if they advertise or anything." *Imos? What the hell is Imos?* he asked himself, setting that one aside in the pile to ask about.
"True."
*Something weird is going on here,* Nick thought to himself as he watched the Spaniard. "Have you ever had Imos?"
Vachon shook his head. "But Mike loves it. I think it's a St. Louis thing. Thin crust."
Nick tossed it over with the Dominos menu. He hated thin crust.
Pizza Hut was the only thing left out of the pizzas.
He was in no mood for it.
His stomach growled, reminding him of how hungry he was. He sighed outloud. Vietnamese, Italian--even an all night deli that delivered.
Choices. Choices. Choices. It was shame he was too exhausted to make any.
"What's good here?" he asked pointing the remaining menus and then running his fingers through his wet hair.
"So the thin crust is out?" Vachon asked, fingering the Imos menu.
Nick nodded as he picked up the Chinese menu. "What about this?" Nick asked as he handed Vachon the menu.
"Never heard her complain."
"Think she's hungry?"
Nick watched Vachon close his eyes for nearly thirty seconds and then open them. "Yeah, she is. Order her the cashew chicken."
"What about you?"
"Already ate," he said as he sipped from his drink.
Nick nodded and picked up the portable phone and dialed. He watched the other man get up and with Nick's coffee mug in hand and refill it, sliding it across the table once it was full.
Vachon didn't refill his mug.
Something was nagging at Nick about the other man, but he couldn't pin it down. He didn't know if it was his complexion-so pale that it eerily reminded Nick of the color of some of the corpses he'd seen in his detective days or the fact that Vachon knew of Immortals, but obviously wasn't a Watcher, or he would have a tattoo. Mentally shrugging, he let it go, too tired to pursue it right now. If it still bothered him in the morning, he'd deal with it then.
He placed his order, adding some egg Fu yon, egg rolls, crab Rangoon and two orders of cashew chicken.
He was starving.
Then he felt it-that annoying, even painful tingling in his head that warned him another Immortal's presence.
Not realizing he stiffened, he was surprised to see Vachon suddenly standing in next to him, his hand tightly holding Nick's arm as he froze, staring off to the side.
Vachon released Nick's arm and moved back to his seat. "It's Mike."
Nick was rooted where he stood, his eyes glued to the door-not really trusting the other man's intuition. Vachon wasn't Immortal. He couldn't feel other Immortals.
A key slipped into the lock and the doorknob turned and the door swung open, revealing Mike. "Lucy, I'm home!" she yelled out, grinning.
Nick's body sagged in relief.
He didn't think he'd ever get used to this.
At first, he wasn't sure where he was. He opened his eyes and other than a candle housed in a long cylinder glass and the glow of LED light of a clock, the room was pitch black.
He stared at the time. 10:25 with one dot. Did that mean AM or PM? He asked himself as he sat up and swung his legs over to the side, touching the hardwood floor.
He stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders-still feeling tired, but more refreshed than he had in a long time.
AM, he answered himself. He had at least ten hours of rest, if the lethargy in his muscles were any indication.
His stomach growled, reminding him why he hated Chinese food-it digested too quickly for him-and stood up, walking over to the chair and tugged on his jeans and grabbed a tee shirt, throwing it on.
Once he had his toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, he headed for the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light in the hallway and dropping off the toothbrush on the bathroom counter.
Deciding to brew some coffee while in the shower, he set about his task, his mind pleasantly diverted by the simple tasks of his morning regime in someone else's home.
A half-hour later, he was showered and dressed in clean clothes and drinking a cup of coffee while leafing through the latest issue of Psychology Today.
Mike had told him last night she was returning to school in the fall. She was going to be a psychologist.
It strangely fit her, he thought to himself, remembering the way she managed to get him to divulge what happened to him in Paris. Although they hadn't discussed it at length the night before, she did give him a piece of parting advice before he headed off to the living room and his bed for the next few days, her futon.
"You have to remember something about Immortals, Nick. Especially old ones-which Amanda is. They've cheated death for so long and so many times-that they have no idea or inclination to understand that other people might not feel the way they do about death. It's an enemy that they've beaten for hundreds of years and they've spent their whole lives fighting to remain victorious over this enemy. By the time they're Amanda's age-they can't see that maybe Immortality is just as unpleasant to some as death is to them."
"What about you? How do you feel?"
She took a deep breath and sighed tiredly. "It's still a gift. Everyday for the past three years have been a gift. I died that night. My number was called-this immortality is wondrous and dangerous and exciting-it's changed my life. Giving me love in the strangest damn places-introduced me to worlds I never would've imagined existing. But it's still just that-a gift."
"A gift," he said, hearing his voice for the first time that morning. He chuckled to himself. "Why the hell do I feel like it's a curse?"
"Because," Mike said from behind him, startling him. "From what you've told me last night, you haven't seen anything positive about it."
Still dressed in a deep violet robe, she walked passed him and headed for the coffeepot. After pouring herself a cup, she leaned against the counter and sipped it.
"There's something positive about it?" he asked her as he closed the magazine. "All I've seen, even in Amanda, is a bunch of people who live by rules that set them above the rest of us mortals. An arrogance that I can't even imagine much less condone."
Mike smirked, nodding in agreement. "I know. You think Amanda's bad, you'd hate Adam."
"Tell me about him."
She sighed as she walked over to the table and sat down. She pulled out a pack of Marlboro's and a lighter and dropped them onto the table. "He'd hate me for smoking," she said as she shook one out and lit it. "So would Mac." After taking a hit, she leaned back in her chair and met his eyes. "Adam Pierson is just the last of a long list of persona's he's had. When you're Immortal-rarely do you keep the same name-not if you want to function in society."
"I thought he was a Watcher."
She grinned. "He was. So was I," she said, holding out her wrist, showing him her tattoo. "We met online. I got sick after being a field operative for seven years. Instead of quitting, I went into the research division-filling in a need on this side of world. I would sit at my computer-digging up facts. Fly around the country-rooting through rare and antique bookstores-finding out tidbits about Immortals. He, was one of the main researchers for the Methos Chronicles."
"Methos? Who's that?"
"Reportedly the oldest of all of us. 5000 years old at last count. A myth to most Immortals and to all Watchers. And that's the way Adam had wanted it stay."
She stopped; watching him carefully as Nick rolled what she said around in his mind. After nearly a minute, a look of wonder crossed his face. "Adam's Methos?"
Mike nodded as she put out the cigarette. "Not very many of us knew his real identity. A handful. Amanda, Richie, Joe Dawson, Mac, Connor, Cassandra, me-a couple more. But none of us would've told. That old. That Quickening was too powerful to lose to some headhunter with delusions of world domination. And Methos, he'd gotten to the point that he was living just to preserve himself-his Quickening. Stayed in the shadows, stayed out of the Game and hid himself in the Watcher's Headquarters in Paris.
"But things happened. Duncan MacLeod happened. I happened. Joe happened. He started living again. He's the one that found me-bloody, dead in my apartment. He's the first person I saw when I revived. I knew he was coming by-but I had no idea at the time he was Immortal, much less Methos. I figured it out-he took me as his student. The first one in over two hundred years.
"But it got out. A year ago. He went underground-left me a bunch money, identities, so I could disappear as well. But I didn't do it. Instead I went to the one place in this world that's not Holy Ground, that Immortals usually stay clear of."
"Where's that?" Nick asked, enthralled. "Amanda always said holy ground was it."
"The Hellmouth-i.e. Sunnydale, California." She sighed and rubbed her face. "I wouldn't be getting his backwash now if I would've stayed there. But I couldn't. I've been back here for a little over three or so months and I've been challenged ten times already." She stopped and took a deep breath. "I've yet to get out of even one."
"Ten heads already?"
"Eleven. One in Toronto. That was my first. I went two and half years without ever being challenged. I was still employed by the Watchers until the end of March. But Joe let me go after my first head."
"That's why you warned me."
She nodded.
"Had you ever-"
"Killed before?"
He nodded.
She shook her head. "Nope. An innocent."
He shut his eyes as her words sunk in. "How can you? I've killed before. Hell, I was a cop for over ten years. I've even taken an Immortal's head. But-"
"Killed or be killed. It's as simple and as complicated as that. I won't chase after them. I won't go headhunting-but I'll be damned if I'll give up my gift to some prick who wants to use me as a stepping stone to get to Methos," her voice rose as she shook out another cigarette.
"You love him."
Tears flooded her eyes as she nodded. "The asshole. And he is that. Arrogant. The epidemy of 'listen to me, I've been there' and the irony of it all is that he has. After 5000 years there's nothing that he hasn't done; good or evil."
"But how, Mike? How can you accept this? Are there any good ones? Other than Liam?"
Mike frowned. "Who's Liam?"
"A priest in Paris. An Immortal."
"Like Darius," she said to herself. "You need to meet Mac, Connor and Richie. then decide if you want to kill Amanda a few times for this."
"I'm just so angry that she took the choice out of my hands!" He stood up and began pacing across the kitchen, feeling that red hot rage once again. And that was the crux of the issue. It wasn't that he was Immortal or even a pre-Immortal at the time. It was that she took the choice out of his hands. She never asked him how he would've felt about it.
Mike nodded, understanding flooding her eyes. "What would you've in her shoes, Nick?"
He stopped midstep and froze. What would he have done? Didn't he do some crazy things to keep her alive? Didn't he chase after Korvos to avenge her 'death?'
"I-I don't know," he said quietly, knowing even then that he was lying.
He did know.
He would and had done everything he knew of to guarantee her survival. Because she was important. To him.
He heard Mike's chair being pushed back and turned to see her stand up and walk over to him. She squeezed his shoulder and chuckled softly. "That's what I thought." She dropped her hand and began walking towards her bedroom. "I'm going to get dressed and then we can go get something to eat."
Nick nodded as he watched her disappear into her room-the door closing behind her.
He rubbed his face with both hands and groaned softly. "Ah fuck-what've I done?" he asked outloud.
Chapter Two
Mike and Nick spent the day sight seeing. She took him to the Arch, where he rode the train to its top. She dragged him to Union Station and bought him a tee shirt. Took him to lunch at the Riverfront McDonald's, where they ate Big Macs while floating on the muddy Mississippi. Then it was to Forest Park, home of the 1904 World's Fair.
In other words, she wore him out. All she said in her defense was that it had been a long time since she had stepped outside before 4pm; she wanted to take advantage of it.
But surprisingly, he had fun. St. Louis was definitely an interesting city and by the end of the day, he felt like he had a pretty good feel for it. It wasn't a place he would want to live, but he could understand why she loved it so much.
After a short nap and shower, they headed up to Wolfe's Bane.
That's where things got kinda funny-on a few fronts.
He met some more of her friends-one incidentally was a detective with the St. Louis Police Department and the other was the coroner-when some of those puzzle pieces started coming together.
What was it with Mike's friends that gave them all such a pale complexion? First that other waitress, then Vachon, and now Nick and Natalie Knight. Mike had more skin color than all of them combined and she was fair skinned.
He had just formulated a question to ask her about that later on, when he saw her stiffen in her seat. Suddenly her face was as pale as her companions as she stared at a man who had just walked into the bar.
*She looks like she just saw a ghost,* Nick thought to himself as he studied the man that had scared Mike. He was tall, well-built, with dark, nearly black hair, dark blue eyes and like the rest of Mike's friends, a unnaturally pale pallor. He, seemingly oblivious to being under observation was scanning the bar and stopped cold when his eyes landed on Mike.
A cruel smile curled his lips.
Nick looked over at Mike in time to see her eyes fill with tears as she slunked down in her chair. Without turning, she reached for Knight's hand and squeezed it. "That's him-Nick. That's your boy."
"What are you talking about, Mike?" The cop asked her.
Natalie reached over and squeezed Mike's hand. "Are you okay, Mike?"
Biting her bottom lip, she shook her head. "The rapist you're looking for! That's him! The one that killed me," she said, her voice dropping so low that Nick barely heard it.
Nick couldn't believe it. He leaned back in his chair and casually got a second look at Mike's killer. The man screamed death. Nick knew the type-dealt with them while he had been on the force. The need for justice screamed in his bones.
Natalie sat up and looked over to the bar as if she were searching for someone. "Do you want me to get Vachon?"
Mike nodded silently.
Knight leaned back in his chair and calmly sipped his drink as he tried following Mike's line of sight. Nick could tell when found the man in question when his body suddenly reeked of tension. "Are you sure, Mike? Really sure? I don't need to cause any trouble if you're not sure."
She finally turned to Knight as she sighed heavily. "So, I was right. He is one, isn't he?"
Knight nodded. "But not one of us."
Her eyes finally shut and she wiped away the tears that had fallen. "I'm sure. One doesn't forget their First Death, Nick. Just like your first." she trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. Nick wondered what could Knight have that was the equivalent to an Immortal's First Death.
Just another loose puzzle piece, he thought to himself as he watched the easy-going mood of his friend spiral downward in front of him. Finally, he couldn't stay silent any longer. "He killed you? That guy over there killed you?"
She nodded, her eyes still closed. "It was my first death. I though he was caught-I gave an anonymous tip that should've nailed him-but it didn't. When I came back a few months ago, I found out he started up again-he rapes and kills women that fit my description-even to the age range."
Knight finished his drink and grabbed Mike's empty glass. "Do you want another?" he asked Nick. "I don't want to spook him-if he sees me getting drinks, he might not think anything."
"Here, I'll help you," Nick said as he stood up and grabbed Natalie's glass.
"Nick-let-"
"Mike, I was a cop too, remember?"
She dropped her head in her hands and groaned softly.
"Don't worry, Mike," Knight whispered as he glanced over at Nick and nodded once. "Come on, Wolfe. But no matter what, let me take care of this."
Nick should've heard the warning bells right then. Wasn't that what Amanda always said when another Immortal was involved? But for whatever reason, he let it go.
He still didn't know if that was the right thing.
As he and Knight weaved through the dance floor, they met Natalie as she was returning to the table. She stopped and grabbed Knight's arm and shook her head once. Nick assumed the gesture meant that Vachon couldn't be found. "Just stay with her, Nat."
"Will do. Be careful-both of you."
Nick nodded once and then headed for the bar, and placed both glasses on the counter. Knight joined him, nodded at the bartender once and then turned around so his back was to the bar.
"Do you see him?" Nick asked the blond detective.
"Yes," Knight answered, sighing. "He's still watching Mike. It's almost as if he's planning to kill her all over again."
Nick stiffened at the implications. He hadn't known Mike long, but she did open her home for him and managed to quell that insistent anger that had pounding on him since Paris.
Just for that, he owed her.
Nick searched for any visible exits and was relieved to see that other than the front door, the only one visible was the emergency exit down that same hallway where he saw Vachon emerge the night before. With that, he had a plan.
"Why don't you head for the back exit and I'll try to unnerve him enough to get him running. If he has any sense, he won't try to cross the bouncer-"
"And he'll try escaping out the back in order to avoid being caught," Knight finished. "Damn, where is that Spaniard when you need him?" Knight whispered to himself. His body went still and he turned to the back entrance. Nick followed his eyes and saw that same pale, blond man that had called Mike over the day before. "Stay here and watch him! Don't do anything until I say!"
Knight then disappeared into the crowd only to reappear standing next to the other blond, who was at the end of the bar, sipping a glass of red wine. Nick watched the conversation and although he couldn't read lips, he did witness a slight flinch in the older man as his gaze left Knight's and found the suspects. So wrapped up in things, it took Nick a minute to realize that suddenly those ice blue eyes were on him. A cold chill slithered down his spine as he felt himself under the taller man's observation. The first thought that went through Nick's mind was, 'danger-predator-beware!'
Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts and turned his attention back to the Mike's attacker. He had moved from the edge of the dance floor to the west wall, standing next to the deejay booth, sipping from a wineglass.
He was still watching Mike.
From the corner of his eyes, he saw a blur of movement. Nick glanced back to the end of the bar only to note that both blond men had moved. His eyes darted back to the attacker only to catch him being hauled out the back by both Knight and the other blond.
It happened to damn fast.
Shrugging off all those nagging questions, Nick took off following the three men towards the back entrance.
For a moment, he just stood there, leaning against the wall in a stunned stupor as his mind tried wrapping around what he just witnessed.
It didn't happen.
He kept replaying the last few minutes in his mind until those stray puzzle pieces began falling into place. As the last of the dust that had once been a rapist and serial killer, touched the ground, it finally sunk in what he just saw.
It was almost enough to wish he really had died in Paris, instead of just having his Immortality triggered.
Vampires.
Immortals were bad enough. But at least they were human. They bled, they died (even if they didn't stay dead), they ate regular food, could go out into the sunlight.
He looked up from the sparkling dust to see both Knight and the other man stare at him-silent and unmoving.
*What now?* Nick asked himself.
The back door flew open and out stepped Mike with Natalie on her heels as she scanned the alley for her assailant.
"Well?"
"It's taken care of, Michelle," the other man said, his eyes flickering from Mike, Knight and him. "The creature that tormented you is no longer of this earth and has been sent back whence he came. Unfortunately," he paused as he nodded his head in Nick's direction, "we have another problem."
Mike whipped around and stopped when she saw Nick leaning against the wall. "Nick? Are you okay? Did he bite-"
"Non, Michelle, you misunderstand me. He followed us out here and we were unable to stop him before he saw it all."
Her eyes widened as she looked at both Knight and LaCroix's tense stature and Nick saw her back straighten in anger.
"It's not a problem, LaCroix. He's Immortal."
"Enforcers don't always know the difference, ma cherie. A human is a human to them."
"But he's not mortal!"
Knight cleared his throat as his eyes darted around the alley nervously. "Don't you think we should take this inside, LaCroix?"
"If there's to be a Quickening-"
"No!" Mike yelled as she moved to step in front of Nick. "There will be no Quickenings here! He is Amanda's student-which means he's under the protection of not only Duncan MacLeod, Connor MacLeod, but of Methos as well."
LaCroix chuckled softly. "Michelle, you know better than that. Methos would never stick his neck out for anyone other than himself. And maybe you."
She shook her head as she grabbed a hold of Nick's hand, crushing it in desperation. "That's not true-not any more. He's risked his life more than once for Mac and Amanda. If you take Nick's head, you will have to take mine. And then you will have to deal with Death himself."
Natalie opened the door. "I think we should take this inside."
Nick finally shook off his stupor and pulled away from Mike. "You all aren't like him," he said, pointing to the dust pile in between LaCroix and Nick.
LaCroix nodded. "A distant relative-like the chimpanzee is to humans."
Mike rolled her eyes at LaCroix. "They're just too embarrassed to admit it. All vampires used to be like that monster. No soul. No conscience. No heart. It's not true anymore-thanks to Immortals. We gave vampires their souls, isn't the right, Lucien?"
The vampire's cold eyes hardened at the question as he glared at both Immortals for nearly a minute, only relenting when he realized Mike wasn't going to back down.
Knight cleared his throat and started walking towards Mike and Nick. "I have to agree with her on this. If Immortals were such a risk to the community, than why haven't the Enforcers killed them off long ago?" He took the door from Natalie and held it open, ushering the Immortals inside. Nick heard Knight tell LaCroix they would meet him upstairs.
The rest of the night passed in a blur. Once Nick got over the fact that there were such things as vampires, the rest was easy to believe.
And when he had problems with believing, all he had to do was flash on to the scene in the alley where Knight staked the other vampire while LaCroix held onto creature's arms.
Like Immortals, vampires needed to keep their existence a secret. But unlike Immortals, they had their own secret police to ensure just that. They were called Enforcers.
Apparently, Enforcers were a scary lot. Nick hoped he never had to run into them. Unfortunately, it was a possibility or so he was told by the vampires, now that he knew of their existence. Nick on the other hand, didn't see how he could tell anyone. No mortal would ever believe him. Hell, if he hadn't been Immortal himself, he probably wouldn't have believed it. But seeing the world through preternatural eyes had shifted his view enough to realize that there was more to life than just what he'd grown up to believe was the truth.
Mike, on the other hand, didn't think Enforcers would bother him. Not only had they left all the other Immortals she knew alone-they stayed away from her. And she was seemingly engulfed into the community to the point she was nearly one without being a vampire herself.
When she told him of Spike and how her blood transformed him from a demon-vamp to a Souled-One, Nick finally understood what she meant a few days before when she said Immortality opened worlds for her that she never knew existed. Her Immortality changed the physical existence of another being.
A pretty heady experience for an irreverent 20th century gal.
After he packed his duffel bag, he picked up the phone and held the receiver in his hands.
Should he?
He wanted to. He missed her and all of her coyness and insatiable love of life-despite her 1000 years. He missed her smile, her unpredictability and the most important thing, her companionship.
As much as she drove him up the wall, she somehow grounded him-reminding him that life was more than a black and white chessboard where you had to choose sides. She calmed his self-righteous streak and forced him to deal with the shades of gray of life-especially Immortal life.
Hearing the obnoxious buzz indicating that he had the phone off the hook too long, he broke the connection and held the phone to his ear, waiting for that familiar tone that indicated he was free to call out.
Dialing Paris from memory, he waited through four rings until she picked up the receiver.
"This better be good," she groaned into the phone. "Because at three in the morning-"
"Amanda, shut up and say hello to your erstwhile student." Nick chuckled in the phone as he heard the telltale signs of her sitting up in bed.
"Nick? Are you okay? Where are you? I've been so worried. I'm so sorry-"
"Amanda, I'm fine. And it's okay. I understand. It took me awhile-"
"Where are you?"
"St. Louis."
"St. Louis? Whose in-Mike? Are you staying with Mike? Is that safe?"
"Relatively speaking, yes. She's got a lot of friends."
This time Amanda laughed. "That she does. I take it you had an interesting time?"
"Yeah, but I'm ready to go home."
"Umm, Nick-how 'bout I meet you in Seacouver? Mac's there and he's so much better at the physical part of training. He's your size. Beside, he has the sword I was thinking of giving you."
"That's fine. Believe it or not, it was on my agenda, if things didn't work out here."
"What do you mean?"
"I needed answers and I needed to understand. Fortunately, Mike was able to give me both of those things."
"Good, I'm so glad." A pause. "I'll make some reservations, call Mac and ring you back and let you know when I'm going to be in." Another pause. She cleared her throat. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"What changed your mind?"
"A wise woman asked me what would've I done in your shoes."
"And?"
He grinned into the receiver. "I would've done just about anything to make sure you lived.you only did the same."
He heard her suck in a deep breath. "Remind me to thank Mike."
"I'll thank her for both of us."
Two days later, as Nick sat in first class next to Amanda, he watched the city of St. Louis disappear under a huge cloud of haze. The heat returned with a vengeance-leaving the city snuggled in a river valley with now a miserable swamp-like hell instead of the easy, moderate weather that he had experienced.
It was funny, but the natives seemed to let out a collective sigh once the weather returned to normal. Although everyone loved the coolness of June, they were uneasy at its oddity. Heat and humidity was a familiar cross for them to bear and sometimes that familiarity was welcomed in lieu of the unknown.
Nick couldn't help but agree. Sometimes he felt as if his Immortality was like the cool weather-a blessing, but an uneasy gift-wrought with unknowns. But, unlike St. Louisans though, he could no longer return to the familiarity of his old life.
Maybe his fate changed when he met Amanda, or maybe he would've died by a bullet regardless of her influence, but that life-Nick Wolfe the cop-was no longer possible.
Now, it was Nick Wolfe, the Immortal's turn.
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©1998 by Lisa Y. Drexel