Forever Knight:
New Night Dawning
1996, Toronto:
"Damn you, Nicholas!" Lucien LaCroix snarled as he raised the stake his son handed him after calling him his closest friend and before kneeling above his precious and beloved mortal Doctor over his own head...
...and smashed the blunt side of the stake across the base of Nicholas's skull with enough force to kill any mortal; even if such a mortal with a skull as thick as his son's apparently was existed. Nicholas slumped over Doctor Lambert's corpse in what looked almost like a lovers' embrace, knocked into an oblivious torpid state. His son would not be trading the gift of life which was given him for an empty box just yet. He would live through this and recover; but here in his loft he would remain as he was until Lucien could attend to the matters that needed attending to before they both moved on. Nicholas had once again managed to make things much more difficult than they needed to be; and damn him for it. Perhaps he would take some kind of comfort in knowing that his debt for Fleur was now paid in full.
But that was enough digression. There was much work to be done; and it needed to be done quickly. His own affairs were squared away, but now he had to deal with the mess his son had made. Perhaps there is some truth to the words of Moses and responsibilities of fathers to their sons after all. His first step would be to dispose of the mortal, then to Aristotle, and then Nicholas's Captain Reese...
1999, Vancouver:
"Nicholas:
By the time you wake and read this, I will be gone from this place; New Orleans, most likely. What I will do for you now is save you the trouble of your whining and objections:
'Damn you, Lacroix! She believed in me! She trusted me! I promised her!'
In response to all that, I remind you of your sister, and the debt you owed me as we both agreed upon. While it is true that you ultimately did me a favor in that regard, we can now say that I have returned the favor. In addition, I offer you this consolation; through your precious Natalie, your debt is now paid in full, and I will not bother you with it again. You once named me as your closest friend, and I will not forget that. As your friend, I could not permit you to trade in the gift of life for an empty box. If that means you continue your ridiculous crusade to regain your mortality so be it; even that nonsense is better than the void of final destruction.
Now then, allow me to orient you. The suite you have awakened in is one in the luxurious Garden Hotel, in the city of Vancouver, British Columbia. The hotel is owned by your sister, Charity Desjardins, who is also the Overseer of all affairs of our kind in the city. While I am pleased to know she has done very well for herself; becoming a kind of benevolent dictator in order to maintain a safe environment for Vampire and Mortal alike, you know me well enough to understand why I wouldn't stay. I'm quite certain you will like her; she is very much like Jeanette. They were friends and coworkers as mortals. She is aware of your tastes, and has already set up arrangements to ensure you will not starve. I have no doubt she will be of great assistance to you in your first nights in her city.
Aristotle has set up your identity. You are Nick Knight, retired homicide detective. Your records and such have been altered to make for a plausible history, and I have personally seen to it that your 'early retirement' makes sense to your former captain in Toronto. He remembers you handing him a letter of resignation personally, and being adamant that you were certain about your decision. He remembers nothing of me, except perhaps our brief encounter when Divia left a body at the Raven.
As hard as it may be for you to accept now, remember that I do love you, and always will.
Lucien."
Nick folded the letter LaCroix left with him and placed it back in the envelope he found it in when he woke up three years ago. As little as he liked to admit it, LaCroix was right. They had agreed, and there was that debt to pay.
"Damn you anyway, LaCroix." Nick muttered.
To his credit, LaCroix really did cover all the bases for him. Nick had since found his own lodgings apart from Charity's hotel, but her hospitality and demeanor was so much like Jeanette is was almost frightening. Over the past three years, he had come appreciate Vancouver; Charity did indeed run a pretty tight ship, which made things quite safe for Vampires and Mortals alike in this modern age. As for his identity, LaCroix really did some of his best work. Nick had even recently called Reese long distance; it was like contacting an old friend and chatting. Reese was very concerned about he was holding up after losing so much to the job in such a short amount of time and so early in his career. He told him as well as can be expected. The part of LaCroix's work which impressed Nick the most was the Natalie factor; Reese seemed quite convinced that Natalie was alive and also retired, though very much out of the communication loop.
Lately, Nick had been finding himself in much better spirits; or at least in spirits more willing to deal with the hurting was experiencing. He looked at the blank canvass in front of him, took a final sip from his chalice and picked up a paint brush...
2003:
It seemed quite surreal to Nick; to be standing in the middle of the main concourse of Charity's Garden, amongst the hanging plants, potted trees and shrubs, all somehow both offset and complimented by a selection of some his own more recent works of art. Charity Desjardins was gracious enough to provide the space in the concourse of her hotel for his first official viewing in longer then Nick cared to remember; he may have had a viewing under a different name sometime in the 18th century, but somehow the past seemed to matter a little less lately. He imagined Natalie would have been pleased to hear that. Upon Charity's insistence, a third of all proceeds made from this viewing were to go to Violence Against Women Stops Here (VAWSH for short), an organization devoted to supporting women who are mistreated. Nick had no problem with those conditions; in fact it felt good to support a good cause. It seemed like the type of cause Jeanette would get behind. What seemed surreal about it all was how so very human the whole experience felt. In many ways it actually hard to believe it was really happening; he was contributing something positive to the world; and it was something other than solving crimes or doling out some kind of justice or another. Through his paintings, he was simply brightening the lives of others. In fact, the night had only barely started and two pieces had already been sold; twin works depicting the Vancouver Skyline – one at sunrise and the other at sunset. He looked at the tags and saw they were both bought by the same person. Nick smiled. Right now, the only regret he had was that his departed friends couldn't share this moment with him; not Jeanette, or Natalie, or Tracy, or Javier, even Schanke should have been part of this. Oddly, the more he thought about it, it was Schanke he missed most of all. Perhaps that was because over the past few years the roles the others played had been filled- not replaced – but filled. The place Schanke had in his life remained somehow vacant.
He almost expected LaCroix to suddenly appear and start slashing his work; but then he was still in New Orleans. At least, that was the best that anyone seemed to know of his current location. That was another surreal element of this new life in Vancouver; LaCroix's absence. Nick had not seen him since that last night in Toronto. While in many ways he was glad to be rid of his Master, there were many ways he found himself actually missing him. He wondered if this was some kind of Vampire connection or bond, or merely some sort of Stockholm syndrome. The later would be better; that would indicate a whole new level of humanity within him.
"They really are lovely, Nicola," a woman behind him said with a Paris French accent. If Nick hadn't sensed her coming, he might have thought for moment that Charity was Jeanette; though it was still stunning how much the same they really were. They had very different appearances, but in almost every other way they were virtually the same person.
Nick turned his head slightly towards her as she gave him a gentle peck on the temple.
"Thank you," he said.
"Ils seront un fabuleux ajout au décor. Au-dessus de l'entrée sud."
Nick looked at her. "You bought them?"
"Of course I did!" Charity smiled. "They really are your best works so far." She gave Nick a playful pat on the butt. "Now go! Go and meet your public. It will be not so terribly different from a press release, but instead of talking about a murder, you will be talking about art. And smile! You can let yourself be happy, Nicola. Not only are you adding beauty to the world, but this is all for a good reason. You are giving to the world, not taking from it."
Nick smiled. He remembered Erica and how she often said that life is only worth living when you can give something rather than just taking away. For the first time in a very long time, he felt something that he once thought would forever elude him; happiness.
2010:
When the Chicago Blackhawks finally won the Stanley Cup for the first time in several decades, Nick began to reminisce about his nights in the Windy City. Though the town was riddled with criminal activity then, most of his memories as a uniform cop were fond ones. The majority of the people there were good people. In this present moment, what he remembered most was how loyal they were to their home team; even when they did poorly.
That reminded him of Joe; who was always talking about hockey. With his Toronto Maple Leafs pennant sitting on his filing cabinet, the Captain's loyal following of his home team was remarkable; admirable even. If one thing could be learned from Joe Reese, it was what it means to never give up. His loyalty to the Leafs, however misguided some might say it is proved that. For a moment he contemplated giving his former Captain a call, but quickly dismissed the idea. Chances were good that Joe would ask if he heard from Natalie, and that would be awkward to say the least. Nick didn't feel comfortable talking about someone he murdered and then broke a promise to as if she was still alive, as Joe clearly believed she was.
Instead, he picked up the invitation he received at some point during the day. He had awakened earlier sensing somebody approaching his loft. He got up to investigate and found the invitation slipped under his door. It was for the grand opening of a new Jazz club on Davie and Seymour. It advertised that the Big Band sound was coming back in a big way, and was pleased to invite one of Vancouver's hot new talents to be a part of the scene. The invitation was personally signed by the owner of the club; Donald Oliver. There was something about the signature that Nick felt he should recognize, but he couldn't place it. The scrawl of it looked like something he had seen before; though he couldn't quite recall where.
Nick shrugged it off. There were yet a couple of hours before the sun went down and he could even safely open his blinds, let alone go outside. Luckily the opening was scheduled for well after sunset. He would go, but he had time still to work on a new painting.
As it turned out, Donald Oliver turned out to be Don Schanke! When Nick how this was possible, Schanke explained that Jeanette must have taken a liking to him, because she pulled him out of the airport right after they talked and saved his life. Unfortunately, the guys that wanted them dead caught up with them and shot him, so Janette had no choice but to bring him across.
Schanke loved being a vampire. He, missed his wife and kid, but understood why he couldn't see them anymore. He always wanted to run a Jazz club. Nick and Schanke drank the night away like old buddies. It was great for both of them. Everybody was happy.