Not that LaCroix would ever admit it, but his recent consultation with Alexander Lucard had left him worried. Nicholas had occasionally trod too close to the line which separated criminal justice from foolhardy vigilantism in his police work, but his latest actions were just the sort to attract the attention of Enforcers, or the vengeance of Count Dracula. Usually he would have allowed Nicholas to reap the rewards of his stubbornness, but LaCroix's arrangement with Lucard was on the verge of being nullified through his son's ill-considered actions.
So it was with a certain weary impatience that he awaited Nicholas in the latter's dreary little apartment, to have a father-son talk about Not Annoying Father's Friends. They'd had many such talks in the past, covering topics including Nick's filial duties to LaCroix, the proper way a vampire should act, and what was expected of him: they were fairly predictable confrontations. LaCroix would demand. Nicholas would respond with anger and denial of the demands. LaCroix would then use logic and guilt to undermine his son's point of view. Nicholas would begin to whine about becoming mortal and not having to put up with LaCroix anymore. LaCroix would be forced to threaten and cajole. Nicholas would sulk. LaCroix would strategically retreat into a position of calm reason. Nicholas would finally give up, just to make his father leave him alone.
All quite normal, in a dysfunctional-family sort of way.
Imagine LaCroix's surprise, then, when the vampire who next descended through the skylight into Nicholas' apartment proved not to be his son at all, but an impostor wearing similar clothing and acting as if he owned the place.
[A quick digression here, Dear Reader, from the von Helsing Vampire Hunter Files.
As was mentioned before, there is an invisible, tangible connection between vampire children and their creators that exists as long as both of them still live. It is easily detectable, unbreakable, and unmistakable; which is why Lucard and LaCroix are having such an easy time identifying which Nick is which, while the mortals around them are completely fooled. Not that Klaus is that convincing. But if you had no idea there were two Knights around, you'd be unable to realize that one was an impostor.
Another thing you may have been wondering about: how does Alexander Lucard manage to run his business empire, when vampires awaken around sunset and the Stock Exchange closes at 5 P.M.? Suffice it to say, that Alexander has cornered (indeed, is hoarding) all the stores of a remarkable Sunblock 2000, which allows him to operate in the open during the daylight hours of overcast Bavarian days. It has the side effect of negating most vampiric powers during the day, but is invaluable to a man in his position. Klaus, being Klaus, stole his supply from Lucard, so now both of them are the only two vampires on the planet able to walk in the sunshine (so to speak).
We provide these facts simply to satisfy your curiosity on these points; and to explain what happens next. - Editor]
LaCroix is quick on the uptake, and perfectly capable of adding two and two to get a reasonable approximation of four. Knowing that Lucard had a son who greatly resembled his own and was also barking mad (also, as in addition to, not as in, Nick is barking mad - Editor), the older vampire drew the sensible conclusion from the facts presented.
"What have you done with my son?" he snarled, grasping Klaus by the scruff of his neck and slamming him against the far wall.
"You must be LaCroix," Klaus said in a strangled voice. "I've heard so much about you from Alexander--"
"Where. Is. Nicholas!" LaCroix punctuated the demand with a little shake, and was then rather surprised when Klaus brought up both his legs and kicked him in the chest, simultaneously working himself free from the older vampire's grasp and slamming the other into the floor. Klaus and Lucard regularly spar with one another, usually when both are dressed for the opera, and Klaus is unhampered by the filial connection through which LaCroix intimidates Nick into letting him win their confrontations. (Plus, of course, Klaus is a lunatic; and fears for his own survival never deter him from taking risks that can cripple his opponents even as they endanger his own life).
"Your precious Nicholas is perfectly fine. At least, he was the last time I saw him," Klaus commented with a degree of insult, rising up in the air to hover some twelve feet above the sprawled LaCroix. "And I don't appreciate your attitude. You'd think I killed him or maimed him or something--"
Unwilling to concede the psychological advantage of Klaus's hovering over him, LaCroix rose to meet him, hands clenched and eyes gleaming in rage. It was true that he can still detect Nicholas's presence through their bond; but it was weaker than it should be, now that he troubled to notice it. Meanwhile, Klaus lectured him.
"Nicholas may be restrained for a short while, but I assure you that he will come to absolutely no harm. You should thank me, LaCroix. I'm doing you a favor."
This assertion was ridiculous enough that it stopped LaCroix's advance while he weighed his options: he could torture the information he needed out of the younger vampire; he could simply follow the connection to Nicholas, and try to free him from whatever trap Klaus has set; or he could listen to what von Helsing has to say, and then follow one of the first two options. "A favor. Now, what would have motivated you to do *me* a favor?"
"I'll admit, it was serendipitous," von Helsing responded, warily gliding out of reach as he spoke. "I was simply trying to frame Alexander, and temporarily sabotage his KIL Communications bid. But when I saw your son, and realized he was with the police, the opportunity was too tempting to pass up." LaCroix's nostrils flared as he made a grab for Klaus, which the other eluded by dropping downward and swooping towards the second-floor balcony. "Then, of course, I met Doctor Lambert. Lovely girl. But definitely a danger to us; and we can't trust Alexander where a beautiful woman is concerned, can we?"
"So you're going to kill her for me," LaCroix said, eyes narrowing in suspicion, "because...?"
"Because I believe, even if Alexander doesn't, that you'll kill Jerry Tate. He really is a pathetic excuse for a human being, isn't he? I'll be quite happy when he's dead. Meanwhile, I'll have KIL Communications, Alexander will be humiliated, and I'll have Natalie Lambert for dinner." Klaus giggled, avoiding another attempt by LaCroix to corral him by shooting upward, then bouncing off the ceiling. "It's wonderful. But, well, you know your son. Such a stuffed shirt about rules and things. He'd never have framed Lucard as well as I did. And he's going to be very unhappy when he finds out what I'm going to do to Natalie. So I put him in a nice quiet crypt, and there he'll stay until everything's settled." Another clutch at his ankle was circumvented by kicking LaCroix in the jaw, sending the older vampire reeling into the wall. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some arrangements to make for Natalie's demise tonight. I always like to plan these things in advance."
"I have no intention of standing still for this!" Klaus might do what he was planning, or he might not; either way, LaCroix was not about to let this child manipulate him-- and he rather resented being kicked into the wall. "I don't trust you, von Helsing, and I have no reason to believe you'll keep your word. You *will* tell me where my son is. NOW." He grasped Klaus by the lapels, pushing the other vampire back against the window, both of them snarling and hissing. The venetian blinds were closed, but Klaus had not yet activated the exterior shutters when LaCroix first attacked him.
Which is why he was able to stretch out his arm, open the blinds, and let in the sunlight that sent LaCroix lurching backward into the shadows, while he fell eight or nine feet to the sunlit floor. Both vampires were panting with exertion now; but LaCroix was the only one sporting a sunburn, since Klaus had applied a coat of Sunblock 2000 before he went to the precinct that evening. Von Helsing was the first to recover himself, and realize that he was completely safe from the older vampire as long as he stayed in the sunlight. [Well, this is an exaggeration-- but take Klaus's ego into account, Dear Reader. Fine gradations of danger are completely beyond him. - Editor. Who apologizes for the interruption]
Klaus giggled, struggling to his feet, then brushed off his jacket, while LaCroix clenched his burnt hands and winced in pain, blinking sun- bedazzled eyes. The older vampire glowered in fury at the younger, wishing he'd accepted Lucard's offer of a box of Sunblock 2000 as a Halloween present last year, even though he hadn't seen the point at the time. With Klaus snorting in laughter, sticking out his tongue at him and saying, "Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah, you can't catch me," from the refuge of the sunlight, he was bitterly regretting exchanging it for a copy of Machiavelli's "The Prince."
"You'll let yourself out, won't you? The elevator does go to the basement. I've got to be leaving if I'm going to make sure Alexander doesn't cause any trouble until after tonight." Von Helsing smirked. "Or, well, I guess you can stay here. Whichever's best for you! It's been a pleasure, LaCroix. And don't think I don't mean that," Klaus confided sincerely. Then, with one last chuckle, he climbed out the window onto the fire escape, and clambered down the stairs.