The apartment was silent when Natalie returned home shortly after sunrise. She'd been too upset to drive home at first, so she'd gone for a walk to clear her head. Every word spoken between them had played in her head a hundred times. Each time, she heard Nick saying to her, "He's done it before. Ask him about Fleur!" The phrase echoed in her ears even now, filling the quiet apartment.
Pushing open her bedroom door, she dropped her coat and purse on the floor and threw herself--exhausted--onto the bed. Sydney curled up by her feet, purring contentedly. The sound was soothing, and Nat found herself drifting to sleep despite the turmoil of her mind.
She awoke later that afternoon, sitting upright in bed--a scream on her lips. The dream... no, nightmare... which had so upset her immediately faded from her memory, leaving behind a sense of sorrow. What had it been about? She couldn't remember now. Looking about her, she saw Sydney curled up at the foot of the bed. She wished she could sleep as peacefully as he was right now.
Easing out of bed, Nat wandered to the kitchen to fix herself lunch. After searching the refrigerator and cupboards thoroughly, however, she determined that LaCroix didn't have the proper provisions.
"I guess I'll have to go to the store now,
Sydney," she said to her cat, who had awakened to find his owner missing
and was now rubbing up against her legs. Sydney meowed in agreement as
Nat headed for the bathroom.
Hours later-- after lunch, a few errands, and a trip to her old apartment-- Nat returned home with the food. It was nearly sundown, and she knew LaCroix would wake at any moment. She wondered if she should ask him about Fleur. Nick had made it sound so important, but then, everything was important to Nick if it got him what he wanted.
Opening his bedroom door slowly, Nat peeked in at LaCroix. He was still asleep, lying straight on his back with his hands folded across his chest. She'd seen Nick sleep like that before, and now wondered if it was common among vampires.
He looked so serene as he slept. Nat felt the sudden urge to go over and kiss him as slept. Tip-toe-ing into the room, she made her way to the side of his king-sized bed. Leaning down, she brushed her lips against his. As she was about to draw away from him, however, his arms wrapped around hers in one fluid movement and Natalie found herself locked into his embrace.
His lips crushed down upon hers in an unceremonious kiss. It was nothing like the tender, soul-melting kisses he gave her when he was wide awake. It was powerful-- harsh and hungry. In the midst of the kiss, Nat found that she was no longer on top of him, but crushed beneath his body on the bed. His hands roamed her body as he continued to kiss her. Her heart sounded loud in her ears. As exhilarating as the feeling was, a sudden fear took her. What if he didn't stop? What if, since he had just awakened, he needed blood-- her blood? Even as the thought entered her mind, she felt his fangs scrape ungently against the skin of her neck.
"Lucien!" she gasped when his pressed the sharp points a little harder. "Lucien!"
The urgency in her voice stopped him. Releasing her, he hurled himself to the other side of the bedroom. Nat looked up at him from the bed where she sat amid a tangle of blankets and sheets. His eyes had turned a wild, hungry red. He returned her frightened stare with an inhuman glare, then fled the room in rush of vampiric speed.
After giving herself a few minutes to become composed, Natalie went in search of her lover. She found him in the kitchen, an empty bottle on the counter beside him. He froze when she entered, poised to grab a wine glass from the cupboard.
Natalie's mind flashed back to all the times she'd found Nick's loft littered with empty bottles and all his glasses had been clean. Obviously, LaCroix's need had been strong enough to make him forego conventions such as glasses and cork screws. As she stepped inside the room, her foot tapped the discarded cork in confirmation of her assessment.
"Lucien.." she began, finding her voice at last.
"Natalie..." he echoed her and their eyes met. "I... ah... put some water on to boil. I thought you would enjoy some tea," he said, his words coming in a rush uncharacteristic of Lucien LaCroix.
It was sort of endearing.
Natalie smiled. "I'd like that. Thank you, Lucien."
LaCroix's lips turned up slightly in what was almost a smile. He got out a cork screw and opened a second bottle of blood. Pouring some into his wine glass, he said to her, "The water is not quite ready. Please sit down, Natalie."
He was just talking now to talk-- to compose himself and force back the beast her actions had unleashed. She could see that clearly. What was more, she could see fear in his eyes.
"Lucien..." she began again. Something in her voice broke the tension between them.
"Did I hurt you, my dear?' he asked, moving towards her.
"No. No, you didn't. I... I was frightened--startled, really-- but not hurt," she replied. Taking a step closer to him, she put her hand on his arm. "Lucien, I'm sorry. I should have known."
"You couldn't have."
Nat met his eyes firmly. "Yes, Lucien. I *could* have. I *should* have known something like that was possible, but I didn't think about it." Her voice softened. "All I wanted--want-- is to kiss you."
In less than a second, they were
in each others arms. Their lips met in a continuation of the kiss she had
initiated earlier. Forgotten, the tea kettle whistled angrily in the background
as the kiss deepened.