And where exactly *was* Natalie? About three days after she left LaCroix's apartment, she dropped Sydney off at Grace's house and headed out for Montreal. She took a bus this time, and from the Montreal bus station, she took a cab to Janette's club.
She had to know the truth about her two vampires. What was this thing between them that had made them so bitter? Who was Fleur? What did she have to do with the failed relationship between Nick and LaCroix? What did any of it have to do with her? Had Nick and LaCroix been playing a game? Was she the prize or merely a pawn? Did they realize what they were doing and the consequences of it all? She didn't know how she knew Janette would be able to answer these questions. She only knew that, somehow, Janette would have the answers she craved.
That was how, on one rainy day in early June, Natalie Lambert found herself--wet and shivering--knocking on a very familiar door. Had she not given Jasmine the keys, she would have let herself in.
When Jasmine opened the door, sleepy-eyed and wrapped in a satin robe, her eyes went wide. "Tasha!" she exclaimed, reaching out to hug her lost friend. She stopped short suddenly. "Dr. Lambert, I mean," she said a bit more formally. She smiled slightly.
Nat returned the smile, reaching out to hug her former roommate. "You can still call me 'Tasha,' Jas. She's still a part of me."
"You don't mind?"
"Not at all." Nat smiled at the energetic vampire before her.
"I just feel uncomfortable about it," Jasmine told her.
"You shouldn't be, Jas. We were friends."
Jasmine shifted her weight uncomfortably and then said, "You wanna come in?"
Nat followed her into the apartment. Looking around, she couldn't help noticing the disarray that surrounded her. "You had a party, didn't you?" she asked with a mischievous grin.
"Could you tell?" Jasmine's grin mirrored hers. "A group of us got together for Rock's birthday."
Nat laughed. "When does a vampire stop celebrating their birthday, Jas?"
The vampire shrugged. "I celebrate every once in a while, but not too often." She paused, seeming to consider the nature of birthdays. "Some people don't celebrate them at all. After you have so many of them, what's the point?"
"What indeed? How was the party?"
"It was a blast! You should have been there, Tash!" Jas let slip the name again, but this time she didn't apologize or correct herself. "Rock would have loved it!"
"I wish I could have," said Nat wistfully.
"I don't have any thing for you to eat, Tash," Jasmine continued, not really noticing the thoughtfulness of Nat's expression, "but you're welcome to whatever I have."
As it was near to noon, Nat didn't feel the need to keep Jasmine awake. "A place to crash would be great," she said, emulating Natasha a bit. "I'm whipped!"
"Sure! No problem. You're room's
still here." Jasmine grabbed Natalie's suitcase and led the way back to
Natasha's old room.
Later, after sleeping most of the afternoon, Natalie woke feeling hungry. After showering and dressing, she left a note for Jasmine, before going out in search of food.
She had lunch in a small, European-style cafe. She had to admit that she loved Montreal in some small degree. It was a comfortable mix of Europe and the New World. More to the point, it felt like home. Montreal was the place where Natasha had come into being. She had been born, lived, and in a sense, died here. Every street corner, storefront, cafe and house were as familiar to her as those of Toronto.
But Montreal also reminded her of
LaCroix. She could remember going to the movies or dancing with him. She
could remember how happy Natasha had been in Montreal with LaCroix, just
as she herself had been happy with him in Toronto. She smiled as she sipped
her mocha cafe, remembering her outings with LaCroix-- the long walks,
late dinners, the opera and the theater... or just snuggling at home. She
sighed, realizing that she may never be able to be that happy again.
Natalie knocked nervously on the door to Janette's office. After perusing the club and not finding her there, she'd decided to look elsewhere for Janette.
"Entrez!" Janette called out from behind the door. Nat opened it slowly and stepped inside. "Natalie!" Janette exclaimed, rising from her desk, where she had been going over invoices. "I... heard a rumor that you had returned. I'm so pleased." She approached Natalie and hugged her briefly. "We've missed you around here," said Janette as she stepped back to look at Nat.
Nat smiled. "I've missed being here," she said in reply. It was true. She *had* missed Natasha's simpler lifestyle.
"Is that what brings you back to Montreal, Natalie? You missed us?" Janette asked. Her voice held a note of skepticism and doubt.
"No, it wasn't that."
"What, then?" Janette met her eyes, reading there insecurity and sorrow. "What have *they* done this time?" she asked, knowing immediately what had brought Natalie from Toronto.
"It's a long story, Janette."
"Luckily, I have all the time in the world to hear your story," she was told with a light laugh. "What happened, Natalie?"
"I fell in love... with LaCroix," Nat began.
"Oh... really? Nicolas did not take it well, I suppose?"
"No, he didn't. Especially after I turned down his marriage proposal."
"Marriage!?" Janette exclaimed. "Please," she said, a smile spreading across her face, "start from the beginning, Natalie, so I may understand this thing fully."
By the time Natalie finished telling her story, Janette sat in awe. "Nicolas behaved... *that* badly? I thought LaCroix and I had taught him more manners than that, Natalie. I am sorry."
"That isn't even the half of it, Janette," Nat admitted.
"Oh?"
"LaCroix and I moved in together."
Her words caused Janette to gasp. "He *is* serious about you, then," she said.
"I thought so, too, but..."
"But what? What happened?"
"I had to work the night shift one night, because I'd traded with a friend so I could finish moving into Lucien's apartment. Nick was there, and we had a fight. He kept insisting that Lucien was just using me to get even with him for something or other. Then he told me something that put me in doubt of everything I thought I knew."
"What was that?"
"He told me that Lucien had done this sort of thing before, and then he told me to ask Lucien about Fleur."
"He didn't!" Janette gasped in surprise and dismay. "How *could* he? What was he possibly thinking? He should have known LaCroix would never tell you such things!"
So, Janette *did* know about the mysterious Fleur. "Janette, was I wrong to ask Lucien abut her?"
"You asked him!?" Janette sounded horrified.
Nat nodded. "But he refused to tell me. We argued over it. He said if I loved him, I'd forget about it. I told him that if he loved me, he'd be honest with me. What Nick said... it caused me to doubt the basis of my relationship with LaCroix, Janette. I needed him to be honest with me. Why wouldn't he? Who *was* she?"
Janette shook her head, sighing sadly. "You ask a difficult question of me, Natalie. I know not whether I should tell you or keep silent. Surely both Nicolas and LaCroix would prefer I keep quiet about it." She sighed again. "I must think on this, Natalie. It is not an easy decision. Please give me time."
"I will, but I must know one thing... why would Nick mention Fleur if he didn't really want me to know about her?"
"He is thoughtless," Janette stated. "He didn't think before he spoke. I'm certain he regretted it immediately afterwards, but by then... it was too late."
*****
**Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds
of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short
a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometimes declines,
By chance or nature's changing course
untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou
ow'st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in
his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can
see,
So long lives this, and this gives life
to thee.**
**Thus spoke the Bard of Stratford-on-Avon in the year sixteen hundred and nine, echoing the common sentiments of his age. To the poet and the artist, their works were a means of obtaining the eternal. In their poetry, paintings, and statuettes not only their subjects but they themselves would become immortalized... forever etched upon the mind of humankind. I wonder, however, if this is true. Are pens and paintbrushes all that are needed to ensure immortality? Who would desire such an eternity, the eternalization of one moment in life? When the subject of the poem withers and grows old, the poem remains, it is true. Yet... who would wish for such a painful reminder of what one has lost?**
"I wonder where he's going with this," Nat commented to Janette as she came in the room. She then turned off the radio, as hearing LaCroix's voice brought back painful memories.
Janette smiled slightly. "Immortality... eternity... They are the things he dwells upon the most. Tell me, Natalie, have you ever thought about it... about what kind of eternity you would prefer?"
Nat stammered for a moment, unable to answer her. Janette was, essentially, asking her if she'd ever considered being brought across. Only once in her life, aside from when she had become Natasha, had she ever considered being brought across. That was during the asteroid scare., nearly a year ago. She'd asked Nick to bring her across then, when she thought her only chance at survival was to become a vampire. However, she had never seriously considered it or its ramifications. "Not really," she said at last.
"That is a shame," Janette said wistfully. "You would have made the perfect sister... had I still belonged to LaCroix."
It took Nat a few seconds for the implications of Janette's words to sink into her brain. "He was planning to bring me across?" she asked in amazement.
"Who knows?" Janette replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "Although, I would be inclined to assume that would be the case. If he truly loved you, Natalie, LaCroix would not stand by and watch mortality steal precious seconds from your life. He would want you to be with him for all eternity. It has ever been true of him."
Natalie watched her closely. Something in Janette's eyes told her that there was more to her speech than what her words entailed. "This is about Fleur, isn't it?" she asked suddenly. "You're going to tell me about her, aren't you?"
"I *should* not, Natalie. Both LaCroix and Nicolas would hate me for it, but I feel you have a right to know what you have gotten into. Yes, I will tell you." Janette sighed deeply, then said, "Her name was Fleur de Brabant, and she was Nicolas's little sister. He loved her more than anything else in the world, but LaCroix loved her even more." Quietly... slowly, Janette spoke, painting a portrait of star-crossed lovers destined to forever be separated by circumstance. "LaCroix blamed Nicolas for her death, because had he not meddled years before, Fleur would still be alive. He turned a cold shoulder to the world after that, nothing pleasing him. Also, he vowed that Nicolas would never know love, for if he found a mortal woman whom he loved as deeply as LaCroix had loved Fleur, that woman would die."
Nat gasped. "That's what Nick meant! He thinks LaCroix took me away from him to get even with him for Fleur's death!"
"I believe he does, Natalie. I, however, do not see it that way. I truly believe that LaCroix cares about you. He may even love you, but Nicolas may never see that. To him, LaCroix is incapable of true love."
After a moment of silence, Nat asked, "Why couldn't Lucien tell me that himself?" her voice was soft and tremulous with sad emotion.
"For all their differences, LaCroix and Nicolas had one thing in common-- they both deeply revered Fleur. When she died, she became as a saint in their eyes. This is why it surprised me that Nicolas would throw her name about so boldly. In the past, neither of them would speak about her at all." Janette paused reflectively. "LaCroix loved her too much. Not only would it be painful for him to discuss her, he would not risk soiling her memory. She is his angel-- pure and innocent. To stoop to Nicolas's level of childishness would have placed a blemish upon her life and death. He would not do such a thing."
They were both silent for several long minutes before Natalie spoke. "Thank you for telling me, Janette. You've given me a lot to think about. I think I need time to understand what you've said, though."
Janette smiled weakly. "Of course. I'll leave you alone with your thoughts." Janette turned to leave. At the door, she hesitated. "You *do* still love Lucien, don't you?"
"Yes... I do, and don't know what to do about it," Nat replied.
Janette held her gaze for a seconds and then smiled. "Whatever happens, I'm sure it will be for the best," she said as she glided soundlessly out the door and closed it behind her.
"I hope so, Janette," Nat whispered
to the closed door. "I truly hope so."