Dammit, I just replaced that bulb, Natalie thought irritably, flipping the unresponsive switch by her front door. Bone-weary after a marathon shift to rival any cop's, all she wanted right now was a soft bed and a peaceful remainder of the night to enjoy it.

Skitch. The little sound of a match nearly stopped her heart, and by its light she glimpsed the stranger who held it, standing in her living room where he did not belong.

Just for a second, then he blew out the match while she turned to get out of the apartment. By now Nat's eyes had adjusted enough to see that the man was suddenly between the door and her reaching hand. She opened her mouth to call for help, but the sound died in her throat as the intruder caught her gaze and held it.

"No scream, Dr. Lambert," he said softly, matching her step for step as she backed away. "Not even a sound."

Gathering her strength and scrambling to recall the few details she knew about this, she forced herself to look away from the unblinking dark eyes, only to find herself pinned against the living room wall.

"Look at me," the stranger whispered, inches from her ear.

Focussing stubbornly on the toe of her left shoe, Nat shook her head. She couldn't outrun him; she had to outthink him, and if she let him establish eye contact again she wouldn't get a chance to think at all.

Fingers brushed her cheek; she pulled her head sharply away. "Are you afraid, Natalie? I may call you that, mayn't I?"

"I'd be pretty stupid if I weren't," she snapped. "I know what you are. What do you want?"

"What do you think?" he returned, taking hold of her chin and forcing her to face him. Nat squeezed her eyes shut, and he laughed, a surprisingly pleasant sound. "Look at me, Natalie," he whispered again, smoothing back a strand of hair that had escaped from her barrette. "There's no need to fear."

Without meaning to she opened her eyes, and instantly he locked them with his own. "That's better." Natalie flinched slightly when he reached behind her and took the large barrette from her hair, but she could neither look away nor move a step.

Belatedly she remembered Magda's cross, the little gold one the girl had given Nick after he saved her life. Every once in a while Nat tried to get him to take it back; for once she was glad he hadn't and reached for the chain inside her blouse.

No sooner did she have hold of it than a hand clamped over hers, jerking the chain away from her neck. His grip slid to her wrist, painfully tight. "Drop it." She held on, and the pressure on her wrist increased. "Drop it, Natalie." The cross fell to the carpet and he released her hand with a smile that under other circumstances would have been charming. "No more little tricks like that up your sleeve, I trust?"

"No."

"Good." He traced her cheek and the line of her jaw with a fingertip; Nat tried to pull away but there was nowhere to go. "Not that I would expect you to tell me if you had. A pretty face, a sharp mind, a stubborn will...Nicholas never could resist that particular combination."

"Not that it's any of your business," Nat shot back, too quickly, "but Nick and I are best friends, period."

"Really?" The intruder chuckled. "He must be losing his touch. Tell me, Natalie..." He leaned closer, inches from her face, and she had the uncomfortable sensation of falling despite the solid wall at her back. "What do you find most fascinating about him? His strength, his power? The fact that he has lived nearly eight hundred years and could go on living forever?"

"His humanity," Nat returned evenly. "In spite of all that, he's still a man, a good man, and he wants to live like one again. And I'm helping him do just that."

The strange vampire's surprise seemed genuine. "He's trying to cross back over? The fool! Why?"

"Because he doesn't want it any more, why else? Because he's had his fill of death and darkness. He wants to live again."

"And you are helping him." A smile spread slowly across her captor's face; Nat didn't like it at all. "Oh, dear doctor, this is all too perfect."

"What is?" Nat demanded, her temper getting the better of her efforts to keep cool and rational. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"I want you, Natalie," he replied, not very helpfully. "You see, I owe Nicholas a debt that is long overdue. I came here tonight intending simply to kill you...but now I have a better idea."

Abruptly, unexpectedly, his kissed her. She tried to turn away but found her muscles unwilling to cooperate. She was falling again, vertigo spinning her well-reasoned arguments out of reach. Get out of my head! she thought fiercely, trying to push him away.

Unperturbed, he stood back a moment, studying her with a hint of a smile. Then he leaned over again, murmuring in her ear, "You could live forever, Natalie."

"No!" Desperately she shoved at him again, succeeding only in pressing herself against the wall. He wouldn't budge.

"You can't tell me you've never thought about it," he went on. "Never wanted to experience it for yourself, if only so you can truly understand when Nicholas confides in you? And you want to understand, don't you?"

"I understand that it's made Nick miserable," she insisted, "and it made my little brother kill five people and then attack me so he could go after his wife. I want no part of it."

"Yet if Nicholas hadn't chosen it, you would never have known him at all," he pointed out. "He would be long dead, probably on the point of some Saracen's sword. He would never even have become the man you know, Natalie. One can learn a great deal in eight centuries, not all of it bad."

He was talking her in circles, dammit; somewhere there had to be a way out of that loop. Until she found it, though, what could she say that he couldn't turn against her?

Before she had a chance, he continued, "Will you stand there and tell me you've never felt that temptation, Natalie? Surely you have the strength of will your brother lacked. With all the time you have spent with Nicholas, all the things you have learned, you've never heard the siren call of immortality?"

"No."

"Never wanted to learn more, to know the things Nicholas cannot explain to you?"

"No." Nat cursed silently, hearing a sliver of doubt creep into her tone.

"Never looked at some pitiful corpse on your examining table and wished you never had to fear that fate?"

"No. Not at that cost."

"I don't believe you." He moved to kiss her again; she twisted out of the way, successfully this time. For all the good it did; he simply turned her face toward him again. "You answer too quickly, Natalie. Are you absolutely certain, certain to your soul, certain in the very face of death, that what I offer holds no fascination for you at all?" She started to answer, and he placed a finger on her lips. "Think carefully. You could have all the time in the world to find all the answers you wish--perhaps even find a way to work your miracle, bring Nicholas back to mortality and yourself as well." He kissed her once more, and she failed to pull away. "Or you could die tonight, and all those hopes die with you. Is that what you want?"

Her answer could barely be heard, even by his sharp ears. "No."

And in that moment she was lost.

"And the next thing I remember is your voice, telling me I had to wake up," Nat concluded quietly. "It was so strange, like swimming through tar to get to you. And you know the rest--better than me, I think. It's all pretty vague until I got my head together here, after you gave me..." She couldn't say it, and he wasn't about to press. "I had no idea... Nick, is that how it always goes? The mindgames, I mean?"

"Usually." He rubbed nervously at the stubble on his chin. "He had to make sure you'd fight your way back, make you want it, at least for a moment. When you're brought over, you don't just wake up a vampire. There's no guarantee you'll wake up at all; it takes a very strong person with a very strong will to live--and a very strong fear of death, which isn't quite the same. He had to push you over that edge." Grasping her hand, he added, "It probably won't help much, but I wish I'd been as hard to convince."

Nat shrugged. "The end result is the same."

Lacking an answer for that, Nick asked her instead, "Nat...would you know this guy if you saw him again?"

"Anywhere," she replied, her voice taking on a hard edge.

"Good. Because I know just where to start looking."

Before they even reached the door of the Raven, Nat was wincing and pressing her hands over her ears.

"I don't know how she can stand having it this loud all the time," Nick told her. "Listen, I'll keep talking; focus on that and you can tune the music out. It just takes a little practice; and we shouldn't be here too long."

Frowning a little in concentration, she took her hands away from her ears. "I hope not. What are we doing here, anyway? You don't think he'd just be hanging out waiting for us to find him?"

"No, but he's probably been here," Nick answered. "And even if he hasn't, Janette makes it her business to know everything about everyone. Of course, we still have to convince her to tell us; she can be a little funny about that, as you may have noticed."

Looking around doubtfully at the club's crowd, Nat shrugged. "We seem to be in your element. Lay on, MacDuff."

Nick was about to protest, but something in her manner worried him. She was too calm, too quiet; and without knowing what was happening beneath that surface, how could he help her? He owed her so much, and now when she needed his support...

"Natalie?" Janette's surprised query came from behind them. "Then who was he talking..." She trailed off as she got a closer look at the other woman. "Ah, now I see. I thought he meant he had killed you."

"Didn't he?" Nat returned.

"He who, Janette?" Nick asked impatiently. "And if you knew something, why didn't you tell me?"

"Do you honestly think I would want to be the bearer of those tidings, Nicolas? It isn't as if you wouldn't find out, and frankly I didn't want to be around when you did." She turned on her heel and led them to a corner table away from the center of activity.

When they were all seated, Janette continued, "It's Paul you're looking for. He was in here last night, boasting that he had paid a visit to 'Nicolas' mortal lady.' He said to tell you to consider the scales balanced."

"What scales?" Natalie asked.

Nick shifted uncomfortably, replying, "It's a long story. I'll explain later."

"You've been caught in the middle of a very old argument indeed," the dark-haired woman said. "And I suppose it makes a certain sort of sense that he brought you over instead of killing you, since no doubt you and Nick both think this is worse."

"And I suppose you think it's just peachy."

Janette shook her head. "I have never been your enemy, Natalie, and I'm certainly not going to start now. Like it or not, you are one of us, and you can count on me as a friend. Remember that if Paul tries to press his claim as your master."

Nick hardly needed to look at his friend to know she bristled at the term, and he didn't blame her. "What kind of master takes her by force and leaves her on the floor to fend for herself?" he demanded.

Janette's glass stopped in midair, the dizzying lights of the dance floor reflected in its dark red depths. "He did that?"

"He did that," Nick confirmed. "It was sheer luck that I reached her in time; he obviously meant for her to wake up alone."

"The fool!" Janette hissed. "Would he have her go mad just to spite you?"

"Apparently."

"He deliberately let me think he had killed her, then. He guessed I would alert you, or go to her myself if you couldn't be found." Recovering her detached air, Janette turned her attention back to the new convert, who was frowning intently at the other's glass. "Natalie? Is something wrong?"

Hand on her shoulder, Nick asked anxiously, "Nat? Nat, you're staring. You okay?"

"It smells like alcohol," the doctor answered, sounding faintly puzzled.

Janette smiled. "A little wine adds an interesting twist. Would you care to try it?"

"No," her guests said in hasty unison, Nat looking more than a little uncomfortable at the suggestion. Turning to Nick, she asked, "How come you never mentioned that? You can't get things down when I give them to you straight, but..." She trailed off, recalling that she was now in a similar position. "I should have thought of that." She hesitated. "Both of you, promise me...If I get out of control like Richard did..."

"We won't let that happen," Nick assured her.

"By whatever means are necessary," she finished flatly.

Janette nodded immediately, and Nick reluctantly followed suit. "Paul is an idiot," Janette declared. "He's gone much too far, and under the circumstances I doubt anyone would fault you for killing him."

Nat stared at her. "What?"

With a shrug, Janette went on, "I imagine that was Nick's first thought, but the right is yours."

"Janette--" Nick began, but he was interrupted when Nat pushed her chair back angrily.

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," she fumed. "Don't you people think about anything else? Nick, I need some air. I'll wait for you in the car." Shoving her chair back under the table, she added to Janette, "Thank you for an enlightening discussion."

Ignoring the venomous sarcasm, the other woman replied, "This is your haven now too, Natalie, should you choose to take advantage of it."

"Don't bet on it."

Nick rose to follow as she stomped out, but a lace-gloved touch on his arm stopped him. "Let her go, Nicolas." She waved to someone across the room, nodding in Natalie's direction. "Fiona will keep an eye on her for a few minutes."

Rounding on her, he snapped, "Did you have to throw it in her face like that? She didn't want this, Janette."

"Then she wouldn't have come over."

"Don't play that game with me; I know it as well as you do." He sank heavily back into his seat. "But she wasn't supposed to learn it."

Brushing his cheek with the back of her hand, she told him softly, "Any mortal can be manipulated, Nicholas. The darkness is always there, and most dangerous when it is denied. You know that."

"Oh, yes," he agreed bitterly, "you and LaCroix taught that little lesson very well." Meeting her eyes, he added, "But it isn't enough, Janette; haven't you learned yet? Maybe the light

can never satisfy us, as you said. But neither can the darkness, and I won't pretend any longer that it does."

For a long moment they said nothing; then Janette looked away, predictably shifting the subject. "But it's done now. Are you ready for the responsibility Paul abandoned? Or will you do her more harm than good?"

"What do you mean?"

"She hasn't killed," Janette said flatly.

"And she isn't going to," Nick returned. "How can you even think that, when you know she's been trying to bring me back over?"

"Look at her, Nicolas, when you leave here. What you have given her is not enough." She pushed her glass across the table to him, and he eyed it warily. "If she wants to live as you do, that's her affair. But remember this: you had centuries to build your strength before you began this madness, yet even you feel the lack. She has nothing but her anger and her strength of will, and when one runs out the other will fail her. Will you let that happen?"