7/23/09: Edited for original upload errors caused by text editor.

Touched By An Angel was about angels helping people.

Forever Knight was about a vampire family--one of whom sought redemption.

I wrote the crossover, but don't own either property.

Chapter 4: The Daughter

Back in the Raven, a certain Angel of Death, was getting a quick primer on The Night People's society (the 'Community' as they called it) via the 'blood' in his drink.

Sort of like having an entire race's life pass before my eyes, Andrew thought fuzzily as the snatches of information flashed by, augmenting what little he had already known about vampires. In his head, he heard the voice of his Father explaining to him things he would need to know.

My beloved Angel, this is how the Night People share in the experiences of others. By drinking another's blood, they obtain a connection to the life they forsook and with each other.

"The Life is in the Blood..." Andrew remembered.

Yes, Andrew. And the blood cannot lie. Remember that as you walk amongst them...

Father..? Who is it I am to help?

One who is very precious to me. Have patience with him, Andrew, for he has been hurt very deeply...

Andrew had been so preoccupied with talking with the Father and the sensations he had been receiving from the second drink (contents again thoughtfully replaced by the Creator of All), that he didn't even realize that his companions were no longer seated at their table until his eyesight had returned to 'normal'.

He frowned, looking around for Tess and Monica, only to see that he was surrounded by strangers. Some were watching him with curious eyes; some with hostility.

"Where..?"

"You're little playmates had to leave early," the aristocratic woman who had given him the second glass stated with a stern look. She aimed the same displeased expression at the surrounding onlookers, who quickly bowed their heads and went back to their own business. With a gesture of one hand she bade him follow her into a back room filled with radio broadcasting equipment and music tapes; a small plaque proclaiming The NightCrawler hung from an empty spot on the wall. No sooner had Andrew stepped inside than another man joined them---one of the security guards, Andrew guessed. Strange...both the man and the woman made him feel a tingly sensation that was hard to describe, but definitely there. Come to think of it, while still in the bar, the feeling had been much stronger. Was this some part of being a vampire? Being able through a 'sixth sense' to detect the presence of one's own species? He sifted through some of the information God had given him and realized this was exactly the case. Not only that, but he could tell that the man---male---was twice as old as the female. He also realized that his own 'aura' was significantly more powerful than either of the others.

Age equals power and authority.

Andrew gave a quick prayer of thanks to Jehovah for giving some leverage to work with. Vampires did not look kindly upon weakness within their own. Disability was seen as a liability to the group's survival. But as an 'ancient', he would be granted much more leeway than a young vampire. That was good considering he had accidentally committed a grave 'sin' by vamping out in a public place---and before mortals too. Not that the vampires would know that Tess and Monica were no more human than they.

No sooner was the door closed behind the three when the lady vampire crossed her arms in front of her chest and began to roundly upbraid him in a mixture of English and Archaic French, fangs flashing while her companion stood stoically beside her.

"Stupid! How dare you act so irresponsibly in my club! Openly hunting like some newborn fledgling! What if one of the mortals had seen you? Just because you're an Ancient does not give you the right to ignore the Code and put this Community at risk. Do you realize how many young ones need this place for shelter and what will happen to them if the Enforcers close it down? To come in here half out of control--!"

Sheltering young ones? Andrew smiled. This fiery lady must have soft spot in her heart if she was taking in orphans. Not having a master to protect you during your first few centuries was viewed by many of the elders as a 'weakness' since untrained vampires could betray their existence to the human world through sheer ignorance.

And some teen-aged humans fantasized that being a vampire was to be able to exist without authority or rules to live under? Naive.

"I'm sorry," Andrew whispered, knowing she could hear quite well.

The sarcastic tirade faltered as the dark vampiress blinked at him.

"What?"

Smiling contritely, Andrew repeated his apology. "I assure you that it won't happen again, my lady. I just didn't realize how long it had been since I'd last ea-- um... fed," he amended eaten at the last moment, remembering that vampires never referred to their blood consumption as anything other than 'feeding'. "Please accept my humble apologies and thanks for covering for my lapse. I did not mean to put you in such a compromising position." He offered his hand while bowing before her, "My name, by the way, is Andrew."

"Janette DuCharme," the vampiress smiled back in relief and not a little confusion. When she had brought him into her sire's broadcasting booth, she had not expected the stranger to act so... cordially. What rare experience she had with Ancients other than her own master was that they tended towards displays of pompous arrogance, confident in the power gained from having survived for well over a millennium. Indeed, was not her 2,000-year old father, Lucien Lacroix, an example of the same behavior? Managing to survive for so great a time from the humans who hunted them, fires both wild and orchestrated, beheadings in saber duels---she supposed they considered it their due to have the younger ones bow to them. But here was this vampire---who felt even older than the Elder of this city---accepting her rebuke and apologizing to boot!

She accepted his hand and received a gallant kiss on her own.

"That is beautiful name. French, isn't it?" Andrew's face lit up in pleasant smile, blue eyes crinkling merrily. "You look like an exquisite French flower, milady, carved from the finest ivory and ebony."

"Oui, I was born in Paris," Janette confided, flattered by his charm and sensing that his words were spoken honestly. Merci, but this one was a prize. No wonder Alma had tried to latch onto him so fast. He was like some sort of twin of de Brabant's: all gallant knight. Though he was far too old to have lived as a chevalier like her brother had done before she'd lured him into her sire's family... Janette found herself wondering if this Andrew's blood would taste as sweet on her tongue as her Nicholas's did. Nicholas was like tasting forbidden sunshine--a veritable rainbow of unbridled passions--that is when he wasn't consumed with that hideous guilt complex he refused to let go of. It was that very quality of enthusiasm that had caught her master's attention---and which made him refuse to give the knight up no matter how much trouble he caused her sire.

Hesitantly, she reached up to caress his throat while baring her own in invitation.

"Um..." Andrew stuttered and wondered what to do. To be sure, he had no wish to offend her again, and it would be a lie to say that the vampire nature he had taken on did not feel drawn to her. But... sharing in a bloodkiss would be to reveal his true self.

--------------------Flashback: Florence, Italy 1535 A.D.-------------------

Andrew sighed. He knew he was failing his caseworker assignment--and failing it badly.

His supervisor had sent him to advise the young lady Amelia---the daughter of a wealthy merchant---who had fallen head over heels in love with a strange, blond man who only came out at night, and whom after meeting, the daughter would return infused with happiness---yet mysteriously lacking in energy to the point that she spent most of the next day in bed. Sensing that something was not quite right with this unseen beau, Andrew had tried to dissuade her from going out again, but she had refused.

"I thank you, kind Andrew, for your concern," she had told him, "but my heart belongs to Nicola, and I will not give him up even if it be for my life. I can think of no better place to be than in his arms; yea sir, I would gladly die in them."

She'd snuck out again that night, and he would have gone after her, but his supervisor had forbidden it.

"It's the bloodkiss. By letting a bit of his pass to her, he's shared in his blood his need to possess all that she is. She's become too enamored of the vampire's love for her, yet does not understand its true foundation. Nothing you or anyone else can say will keep Amelia from offering herself to him this last time."

"Vampire, sir?" Andrew had asked in confusion.

"Humans who have been infected by a virulent microbe that turns their hosts into blood-drinking parasites," his supervisor had explained. "It also gives them mental and physical abilities far beyond their original ones."

"They are of the Enemy?" Andrew frowned, remembering his--thankfully--rare encounter's with Satan's demons.

"No. They still have whatever conscience they had as mortals; however, subconsciously, they know they have fallen from God's grace even more, so they react to holiness like a demon would. But they are not demonic themselves. Think of them like you would a pack of wolves. Close knit family-units that hunt upon the fringes of their prey's herd, only occasionally risking moving within its center."

"And the Father allows this?!" the Andrew had exclaimed in disgust, wishing as soon as he did so that he could recall his words. He had not meant to sound like he was judging the Father.

"Andrew... I know it seems distasteful to us, who are sent to guard the Flock; but you must remember that to the Father, they are also of that Flock, simply a different variety. And most did not choose their circumstances willingly: they are as much victim's of the Deceiver as Adam and Eve. If Jehovah did not grant them his regard, do you think Satan would have hesitated this long in consuming their souls and binding them with his demons? I warn you in all earnestness that should the Enemy ever gain control of one of the Night People, the Angels of Death will have a hard time keeping up with the carnage."

He looked pensively in the direction Amelia had gone.

"Poor souls... they think they are sharing love. But neither understands what true love is. Nicholas's is but instinctual need; Amelia's is merely infatuation."

--------------------------End Flashback-----------------------------

A mere two years ago, Sam had confided that the nightmare his former supervisor had envisioned had almost occurred not once, but twice. A 2000-year old vampire, long imbued with pure Evil, had broken loose from her imprisonment and started a killing spree within the Toronto Community. Only another family member had managed to end her madness. Coincidently, this same vampire had, just months earlier, been possessed by the demons named 'Legion' for a short period. Fortunately, God had worked to set the stage beforehand so that this vampire had gotten the help needed to free himself of Satan's claim.

It would have once seemed strange to Andrew that God should have used a vampire to stop evil---why not send warrior angels instead? But the Father seemed pleased to work through them occasionally, and Andrew had seen enough circumstances of vampire ethics to trust God's judgment. Barbaric in some areas, they could be remarkably 'Christian' in others...like the People they were still tied to.