7/24/09: 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 18: Darker Invitation

"MINE!" exulted the evil voice as the blackness of the demon wrapped tightly around de Brabant's torso, "you are mine!'

"No!" Nicholas screamed.

"Yessss... You know you have no other choice, Crusssaderr!" the voice crooned. "You can't trussst a God who abandoned you---nor you, He. You have betrayed your lovesss two many timesss for redemption. We are your only recourssse, Sir knight---give yourself to ussss and all your pain will end."

Left standing fifteen feet below the trapped man, Andrew was beseeching him to see the demon's words for what they were as he cried, "Nicholas! Satan is the Father of Lies and all his demons follow in his footsteps! Jehovah has never abandoned you! Let him into your life! Legion has no more power over you than what he has deceived you into believing---"

A great gust of dark wind smacked against the Angel of Death, sending him flying head-over-heels backwards to land with a soft thud within the tall grass. Andrew groaned at the impact, momentarily stunned.

"Sssee..." that which was Legion gloated, "even the angelsss of God cannot stand againssst my might!" The nebulous remains of Divia echoed afterwards, both mockingly concerned and demanding, "Come, Nicholas, open your mouth and take your medicine. Nicky has kept Grandma waiting long enough. INVITE ME IN!"

"Never!"

With strong hacking motions, Nicholas desperately sent his weapon into the black nebula holding onto him. Again and again the blade disappeared into the thick ebony mist, yet the Darkness was unharmed; it's changing voice was even tinged with amusement at the ineffectiveness of his sword. At last the knight's arms went limp with fatigue and he gave up, whimpering in fear.

Stumbling again unto his feet, Andrew limped back as fast as he could just as de Brabant slumped in defeat, his nerveless hands letting the heavy and useless sword go so that it fell to the ground before the angel's feet.

"Andrew?" de Brabant pleaded, "Help... me."

"Nicholas--I can't fight it for you! You must banish it yourself!" Andrew yelled up as he ducked and rolled to avoid another demonic swipe at his person.

The vampire groaned. "I can't. I've tried. It's too powerful for me to fight."

But Andrew was not ready to give up. Not while there was still hope. His Father would not have sent him here if there was no hope. Tumbling back to where the broadsword had fallen, he lifted it from the muck and tossed it back to its owner, who caught its hilt without any real enthusiasm.

"Not I, but the Father within does the work!" the angel quoted with confident eyes fixed upon the vampire's blue. "Have faith, Nicholas! All men have been given authority over their own--"

His pep talk went unfinished as a large dark mass connected with him once again, sending Andrew sailing back so far that he collided with one of the hewn stones of the circle and could only watch in a daze as the sentient 'storm cloud' lazily drifted up from the lake to approach him, its prize still clutched to itself. Nicholas' fangs had descended, and he was trying to use them to bite his assailant, but as with the sword, the Darkness simply lost its solidity wherever he tried to strike.

'Divia' snickered as they stopped before the sprawled Andrew. "Oh, look, a fallen angel. And he can't get up---or we'll knock him down again." Her counterpart words were just as menacing as he promised, "When Nicholasss breathsss uss in, angel, your flessshy incarnation will be the firssst we destroy...slowly and painfully!" Their mad laughter filled the air.

"Not through me," Nicholas growled. "I refuse to hurt anyone ever again. I'll die first."

The merriment evaporated.

"Still stubborn?" the Darkness sighed as one long suffering. "He alwayss wasss. Doesn't realize that we will not permit his untimely death. Another lessson iss in order it ssseems. Yes, another."

Closing his eyes with head bowed, de Brabant mouthed an old Brabantian prayer that his mother had taught him as a small child. The words came haltingly, but they came, and the demonic shade seemed to twitch within itself even though not a syllable of sound was actually spoken aloud.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, CHEVALIER?!" the Darkness asked him, trying to mask its unease and intimidate its captive with sheer volume. It tightened its grip, making de Brabant struggle for breath. "ANSWER!"

"Praying." the knight gasped.

"What?"

Nicholas' voice quavered and he swallowed hard three times in succession as he confessed, "It's a prayer of forgiveness that my Maman taught me."

"Is it?" the demon roared as all of the visible countryside became populated with white crosses. "Do you think it will be enough?" the voice sneered. "What about your multitude of sins, de Brabant," it hissed. "What about..her?"

One of the crosses blazed into flame, making the vampire squirm with discomfort as it consumed the landscape everywhere around them with its angry glow.

Andrew blinked away the large quantity of spots before his eyes to find he was no longer leaning against a stone monolith, but a brick wall of Nicholas' old Toronto home. The place felt abnormally chill, as if someone had opened a window somewhere in the middle of a winter ice storm.

Vision returned to normal, the Angel of Death caught his breath when he spied a crumbled body lying upon a rug before the fireplace. A couple of yards away, the knight stood within the intertwined and clutching embrace of a translucent, blond girl and a dark clad figure whom Andrew could not quite seem to get his eyes to focus on, for it continuously blurred in form and face. Andrew grimaced when he realized it was Divia and the multi-demon that was Legion in as corporeal a shape as their host-less psyches could maintain. They were keeping a silently weeping de Brabant trapped between them, his eyes fixed on the corpse across the room, reminding Andrew of vultures waiting for the right moment to move in.

"Well, Nicholas," Divia asked him between playful nips at his neck. "Cat got your tongue? That should be my privilege."

"Yesss, Chevalier," Legion's changing mouth quirked with amusement at the stiff body it held, "tell usss what your latessst ill-used lover will think of your belated appearance in Heaven. How will ssshe greet her murderer, do you think?" He blew out his foul breath upon the de Brabant's neck and ear, sending the dark gold hairs scattering away from its unwanted touch. "Sssurely Ms. Lambert'sss ghosst will welcome you with hugss and sweet kisssesss?" it smirked. "Or... perhaps not?"

"I believe in you. I trust in you. Make love to me, Nick. Take just a little at a time." Divia gleefully recited his own memory of Natalie's words and threw them at her anguished 'grandson'---clucking in false pity as the knight groaned at the barb. "Oh, but my Nicky was so thirsty. And she tasted so deliciously good, yes she did, oh yes she did!" The demon moved forward and licked his neck.

"Better to be accepted by usss than to have to face her, eh, Nicholasss?" Legion spoke quietly into his ear. "We will take away this noisome pain for you. Wrap your heart in a sssnuggly blanket of indifference. Ssso sssoothing to forget all about thisss nasssty prrredilictttion of yourrrs forrr murrrderrrr. And all you have to do---sssuch a sssmall, sssimple thing---is... let... us... in."

"Yes, Nicholas," Andrew broke in, getting to his feet, his face stern within the muted glow that framed his body. He ignored the shocked look on the knight's face as the latter turned to look at him. "Give in. Run away and hide within the maze of Hell's domain. Never have to apologize. Never have to see Nat again. Never hear her voice tell you how sorry she was for pushing you past what you could bear. Never give her the chance to apologize and tell you how much she loves you still. Be selfish, Nicholas, and think of only your own pain----don't think of her, or La croix, or Janette, or Feliks, or Merlin, or anyone who cares for you at all. Or how it will feel when Legion and Divia use you to destroy them and countless others."

Legion and Divia gave him a look that could kill.

"SHUT UP!"

The room dissolved back into the Welsh countryside, the scene returned to what it had been previously---save for Andrew's now standing upright as he radiated righteous anger.

"Make a decision, Nicholas! Quit stalling by supplying them with memories as ammo. You cannot exist this way. You cannot continue in both worlds. Either forgive yourself and accept Jehovah's Love, or condemn everyone by your unwillingness to face Truth. God has already forgiven you everything. Your victims are at peace in His arms. There is nothing left to castigate except your own desire to continue punishing yourself!"

Startled at his own unplanned outburst, Andrew realized that what his Father had put into his heart was true: Nicholas had been held captive for so long because he wanted to be tormented. He might have lived through eight centuries of social changes, but his heart was still that of a 13th century man who'd had it ingrained in him at childhood that suffering was the only way to cleanse sins. Like those poor, misguided repentant souls who felt that they could only gain forgiveness by lashing themselves with whips or crawling on bloody knees to whatever 'shrine' struck their fancy, Nicholas De Brabant thought enduring the demons was the only way to redeem himself.

A tear coursed down Andrew's cheek at the realization.

"God our Father, loves you, Nicholas. Don't do this to Him. Don't do it to yourself. You are pardoned. Accept the gift."

The Darkness growled as it seemed to awaken from its momentary stupor.

"Are you finished with your pointless chatter?"

Andrew nodded sadly. His assignment was just staring at him. Not saying a word. Had he even heard Andrew's? "I've said all I'd come to say. There is nothing more I can say," he said in answer to the demon, but with the meaning aimed at the knight.

"THEN LEAVE!"

"No."

Still stuck in mid-air, Nicholas was shaking like a leaf despite the tightness of the grip that held him.

"No...Andrew... stay. Please," he asked before breathing deeply to steady himself.

The angel was right, de Brabant admitted to himself. He had been skirting along the edge of a cliff for far too long, afraid to fall into the abyss, yet even more terrified of turning away from it and facing the light beyond the darkness. It was time to truly take responsibility instead of hiding away from it.

Deep blue eyes blazed as Nicholas looked up, sending his glare in the direction where the blackness seemed thickest. He spoke firmly and clearly.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Life."

"We tire of this silly show of defiance, little one." But the composite voice sounded hesitant, unsure; sensing that something within its would-be-ticket into the physical world had changed. Their captive responded by raising his sword. From above, a tiny sliver of sunlight broke through the charcoal-colored clouds to strike the polished blade, making its entire length shine like an elongated star. The darkness seemed to shiver.

"I, Nicholas de Brabant, son of Sir Henry de Brabant and Lady Maria de Brabant, adopted child of General Lucius Lacroix of Pompeii, demand you leave me...totally and forever. You're not welcome here anymore, foul one. My need for you is done." He smiled grimly as he was slowly lowered halfway to the ground. Was his foe already weaker than before? If his guardian angel's reaction was any indication...

Andrew was sporting a huge grin across his face and he flung his arms aloft in triumphant joy. "Yes, yes---YES!"

Now Legion's voice was tinged with unmistakable fear as it hissed, "No, Nicholasss---listen!----thisss angel isss twisted with lies! His wordsss are nothing but falsehoodsss! Only we can sssave you from yoursssel--"

Nicholas growled at the darkness with bared fangs, his eyes glowing like miniature suns. "By the power of the Spirit of the God I unthinkingly pushed away--- be gone from me, thou Evil Children of Satan!"

He rammed is sword down into the mass that held him.

The results, Andrew decided, were rather spectacular.

Immediately the oppressive Darkness recoiled from de Brabant with a terrible shriek as the blade made contact, the blackness getting burned away as if it had been dipped in pearlescent acid. Smiling grimly, de Brabant executed a back flip and flew out of range of the demons' dying throes, lighting down next to Andrew to watch the finale.

"NONONONONONNoNoNonononono!! Legion/Divia wailed and cursed as the God-given brightness from the Crusader's blade continued to eat away at them with increasing speed. "You have not won yet! You'll pay... for thissss, both...of...youu....!"

As Light encompassing and drove out the last blot of Darkness, Andrew turned to Nicholas to offer him his congratulations, but the smiling knight disappeared from his vision as the unabated brightness continued to grow until all he saw was the pearly Light.

Well, done, my beloved Angel.

"Father?" Andrew blushed. "I only encouraged him. Nicholas did the rest---with his sword and your Glory."

But it was your use of the sword of Truth that removed the blindness from his eyes, Andrew.

"So...does this mean this assignment is over? Not that I'm not ready to take a vacation after all of this," he smiled sheepishly, "but I would have liked to have said goodbye first."

No, Andrew. It is not over, so you must stay as a vampire for a little while longer. Nicholas has won this battle for his soul, but the war still rages around him. Have you forgotten Monica and Tess?

Andrew felt as if the center of his being had been dipped in ice. Shame also, as he had forgotten about his friends.

"What about them?" he asked, instantly worried for their well being. Were they also battling demons? Then Andrew remembered his earlier thought that his and Monica's assignments knew each other.

Yes, my Angel, that is correct. Monica's assignment knows de Brabant---but not well. Soon, she will know far more than she bargained for. You must be there for all of them, Andrew. Monica especially will need your comfort."

"Yes, Father...um...but will Monica want to even see me? I mean, she wasn't too thrilled by this change in me to a...well..."

The warmth of God's Love surrounded him in what could only be described as a hug. Then he felt himself being transported back to the physical realm.

Answering Reviews:

L E McMurray: Of course there is more. This chapter completed the first skirmish. Lots more to go as Monica and Tess will soon re-enter the story.

Louie Pastiche: If that had you hogging the facial tissues, better keep it handy for later posts. grins

Wanderer D: Moving... such a joy. You have my sympathy. coughs Eh... At this point, the only thing that's happened is that Nicholas is no longer plagued by demons within his mind. He's yet to face his main enemy. whistles (damn all my unfinished stories!) Anyway, we aren't near done yet.

Actually, I was aiming for Pathos more than Angst, but Nick does tend towards overdoing everything emotion wise. Nicholas assuming the guilt was very much in character for him. In fact, FK humor is filled with Angsty Nick cornering the market on guilt. Honestly, I think he's addicted to it more than he is to blood. -cackles- But then that is what makes him so fun to write.

Trecebo: See above. Andrew is more stable than Nicholas who is in a class by himself. -smiles- However, Andrew has his own set of insecurities. Don't we all?

Scott Summers is indeed very different from Logan. Or maybe not. There is a wonderful story in a site called The Medicine Wheel that has Logan and Scott captured and tortured by government types. (Not Slash) I appreciate Boy Scout Scott, but have an even greater one for Gritty Hellish Background Scott who has to keep himself tightly under control lest his whole world unravel. In that way, he is like Logan only without Logan's freedom to express his frustrations openly. If you want, I'll post the site link to that writer's site. Warning though—the story I have in mind deals with very graphic images of violence—particularly character death, revenge and the medical aftermath of a rape. Nor is the ending a Happily Ever After one.

I despise happily ever after stories unless they are comedies. Life is no picnic. For every battle won, another is always more looming over the horizon. And the battle scars never totally go away. Cinderella is deluding herself if she thinks her life will be all perfumed rose water after marrying Prince Charming. Same for Prince Charming! You ever deal 24/7 with a princess?

Glad you like the story. We aim to please. Um.. well, no. Actually, we aim to please our self because we are doing this as a freebie in gratitude to others who also write stories without monetary gain for recompense. If others like it as well, that's icing on the cake. lol