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.

a/n Mainly a non-canon flashback, but it is one that showcases an important character.

Chapter 21: Joran

---------------------Flashback 1798 A.D. London------------------

"Nicola, come over here! Help me!" Janette commanded as Nicholas sped into her room at mach five, his hair and clothing already in disarray from his frantic flight to reach home in time for...

Janette's bedroom door was nearly wrenched off its hinges as her vamped out brother burst in.

Nicholas looked around in dismay at the mass confusion within her room. From the tone of the command he had received through his bond with his sire and then his sister's cry for help, he had half expected to find his family under siege from some menace---or that the strange vampire had hurt his beloved. (he'd been fully prepared to deliver Hell to the bastard if he had done!) Instead, it looked like his sister was merely going through another of what he had come to think of as her 'fashion fits.' If it hadn't been for the fact that there was also Lacroix who had sent for him so urgently, Nicholas would have laughed at Janette's flustered agitation and asked what terrible change in the rules of proper accessorizing society had again inflicted upon her.

"Janette, I received Lacroix's message to come home right away. What has happened? Did something go wrong with your interview?"

"You mean that farce?" DuCharme spat out, too busy to even look at him.

Her loyal knight's eyes narrowed to feral slits. Ancient or no----he would stake that bald headed cretin if he had so much as laid a finger on her. "What do you mean?"

Apparently, their mutual anger had caused a flare in their sibling link, for she snarled back in echo:

"All that hype of how important this interview with that bald cretin was---and the base dog barely asks me my name before leaving on some lame pretext. It was insulting!"

Her brother blinked as he realized there was no immediate cause for alarm, and took some physically unnecessary deep breaths to calm himself. "Then...what of all this?" Nicholas asked indicating the clothing strewn about the room.

"We're moving-- tonight." The last word was a growl.

"But..." her brother frowned, remembering what Lacroix had said before. He had thought it a mere bluff to tweak him into compliance. Now, however... "That's ridiculous."

"Tell him that." Janette ground out in annoyance as she discarded one dress in favor of another, shoving him aside a bit to do so. Sacred Mother how was she supposed to choose what to take when Lacroix wouldn't tell her where they were to go to next? Temperature was as nothing to a vampire, but it wouldn't do to show up in the Mediterranean in heavy woolens or likewise in Norway wearing thin fabrics. Such a faux paus would arouse suspicion in the mortals.

Seeing he would get no answers here, Nicholas spun on his heels to search for their elder, yelling out his name continuously until he saw his sire meticulously packing two small suitcases. His father didn't even bother to look up as he barged into the room.

"Lacroix, what is--?"

"Nicholas, you have exactly five minutes to gather what you can or it will get left behind," the ancient declared with maddening calm.

"Damn it, Lacroix," Nicholas glared daggers at his master, "Stop keeping me in the dark! Tell me what has happened? Have Hunters found us? Is there an invading army from the Continent? What?"

His master consulted his watch. "Four minutes. If I were you, I would at least grab a change of clothes."

Snarling at his sire's back, Nicholas brought his fist down so hard onto the armoire that the side caved in. His hand hurt as a result, so he took a moment to look at it. A lacquered splinter was jabbing into his skin. Plucking it out, he licked the wound closed without a thought given to the vile taste of the chemical, too frustrated at the time to realize that Lacroix had not rebuked him for his lack of control or the act of vandalism.

"No! Will you for once tell me what is going on? First you want me to stay, and then you want me to go; now you call me back to leave totally. I'm owed an explanation--- especially after what happened in town tonight."

His sire's hands froze over their work for a split second before resuming their task. "And what happened in town?"

Behind him, his son ran his hand through his hair in a gesture of confused agitation. "I don't know. Maybe it was nothing, but I could have sworn this vampire was....watching me. I kept seeing him out of the corner of my eye not long after I left here. I think it was the Elder of the city for once I caught the sensation of great power, but whenever I turned to look, there was only a shadow."

The hands on the suitcase actually trembled for a second though Lacroix's face was expressionless.

From the main room of the house, came the sound of the door bell, adding to the tension in the room.

"Nicholas---," Lacroix said with an air of quiet urgency, "gather your sister. We are leaving right now."

"But who--"

"Damn it all, boy---I said now!" Lacroix growled as he shoved Nicholas out into the hallway and in the direction of Janette's room. "Take Janette to Dover and wait for me there."

Nicholas headed for Janette's door, but was overcome with curiosity when he heard Lacroix open the entrance door and a deep voice call his sire by a name he had never heard before. If Lacroix would not tell him what was going on---he'd have to find out for himself. Besides...if this involved Janette, he had to know what was threatening his sister. Moving stealthily to a spot on the balcony just out of range to be seen from the foyer, Nicholas crouched down to listen, pressing his back against the wall.

"Lucius, my dear sir, I'm so glad I caught you at home," a jovial voice said.

"What do you want, Joran?" his sire's own voice returned, it's coldness in stark contrast to the visitor's happy tone. "Your party is tomorrow, and I am busy tonight."

"Yes... I imagine you are. Leaving town unexpectedly, are we?"

"It happens, Elder. I have many vested interests around the continent. Sometimes one has need to attend to them personally and with appropriate haste."

"If it's about that bit of business with the French and the British in Egypt, I can understand your concern." the voice commiserated. "Wars can play havoc with property holdings, can't they? That is why I've graciously moved up my little affair to tonight. Due to the lateness of the hour, it will be smaller than I had planned... however it is ready and waiting only for the company of yourself and your charming children."

"You mean my daughter, Janette."

"Of course... of course, but also the new fellow,"---and now the first note of menace from the other side of the conversation came into play---" the one you have neglected to introduce to my minions on your arrival here."

"That one is not worthy of your time, Joran. I simply did not wish to bore you."

"Really?" the stranger mocked, "How thoughtful of you. Yet I hardly think that one whom the great General Lucius calls by the endearment 'mon fils' can possibly be boring to meet. 'Nicholas', was the name Kurkan supplied, is that not right? Kurkan sometimes manages to mangle names, you see. Detestable habit of his, but one must make allowances for inferiors."

"Nicholas is a mere fledgling," his master rejoined, sounding irritated, "a passing fancy only."

Listening in from upstairs, Nicholas flinched at the words. Surely his sire did not mean that? He clutched at the wall in distress. Yes, his father's actions disgusted him most of the time---and certainly the two of them fought like cats and dogs....but Lacroix had always professed to care for him in his own peculiar way. The thought had been an odd comfort to him. After Gwyneth, no one but Fleur and his maman had been truly concerned for his well-being. Even Janette was more prone to consider herself first, leaving them for Paris or some pleasure whenever she got ...bored. Blinking back tears, he winced at the memory of when she had declared their long marriage over for just that reason---claiming that he would soon have gotten tired of it as well. As if he could ever have just abandoned his beloved, chosen wife. Had he not given up all to have her hand? And yet the very sacrifice of his mortal life had not been enough to show Janette how much he had loved her-- still loved her. He never stopped despite her assurances that he would get over it. Even Alyssa had not stilled... No, he would not go there now. And yet Lacroix---inscrutable Lacroix--- would let Janette go whenever the notion took her, confident that she would eventually rejoin them. However, he would track Nicholas down like a hound after a hare if he left without permission.

Still... as frustrating as that was...it had also been kind of reassuring: There was someone who did not find him 'boring'. But now here his master was telling another Ancient that his son was but a 'passing fancy'? That.... hurt.

Badly.

Unable to resist a peek at his master---as if seeing him would verify that what he said was only a lie, Nicholas chanced a look through the balustrade and got his first glimpse at their latest caller---a dark-haired vampire.

"Funny," their unannounced guest replied, "then this fancy must be a slow moving one...Kurkan judged him to be nearing 600--- and estimating age is something he is quite good at. At any rate, Lucius---" The Ancient paused, suddenly looking up directly where the knight was hiding. Nicholas felt as if a bitterly cold draft was wrapping itself around him. "Ahhh..... But there is the childe in question now. Come down, young one."

Lacroix whipped around. "What?" The anger was plain on his face when he saw his son clutching the stair guard.

Joran smiled toothily up at Nicholas, giving the latter a butterfly feeling in the pit of his stomach as their eyes met. The Belgian was certain this was the one who had been trailing him about the western half of London and suddenly he had no wish to be anywhere near this Ancient vampire who reeked of power and darkness stronger than anything Nicholas had ever sensed before. But now he'd been spotted by what was clearly the current Elder of this city and Nicholas couldn't very well refuse the Ancient regardless of the daggered look his master was giving him. So, swallowing back the feeling of foreboding that was screaming at him to run the other way, he flew down, landing smoothly upon his feet despite the churning in his stomach.

The new angle of view did nothing to calm him.

Damn but if the olive-complexioned vampire wasn't over seven feet tall, besting his master's height by nine inches and Nicholas's by thirteen. In addition, he was a bit on the beefy side. As once mortal horse riders, both knight and general had more the slim physiques of swimmers. For once, Nicholas actually physically felt like a mere fledgling as the Ancient towered over him to ruffle his hair in one bear-like hand. He stiffened under the unwelcome touch, heart beating twice in succession as he bit back a protesting growl. If his master did not defend him, the Ancient was in his rights to do whatever he wanted to a younger one within his realm.

"Why, Lucius---he's adorable," Joran grinned. "Wherever did you find him?"

Nicholas hoped desperately that Lacroix would not consider his prodigal 'passing fancy' too much trouble to accept any voiced challenge of ownership.

"In Paris," Lacroix muttered in what was nearly---but not quite---a challenging growl, his eyes warning Nicholas to remain silent as the cobalt blues pleaded with him to intervene on his behalf.

"Yes... Paris has begotten a good many beautiful attributes. But not this one, I think." Large hands tilted Nicholas' head up and to both sides, thumbs caressing the cheekbones. "What is your heritage, young one?"

Nicholas gulped, uncomfortably aware of Lacroix's desire for his silence yet could see no way to avoid answering. The old one could easily rip his head off with those hands!

"De Brabant," he whispered, trying to avoid the pitch black eyes that seemed to sear into his flesh like beams of dark ice over a bottomless lake. Cold... so cold... There were movements under the depths like ancient sea monsters never seen by man. A lake of darkness....horrors beyond--wanting to drag him into the depths...make him one with it...

He blinked, stumbling back as the hands let him go.

"Of course," Joran gave him a very slight smile that Nicholas took as both acknowledgement of his answer and approval that he had not tried to fabricate a lie---he really didn't care. Just as long as he didn't ever have to look into those eyes again. Not ever again.

"Brabant is a lovely land," Joran continued. "I've been told they grow fine crops there." He gazed appreciatively at the knight until Nicholas actually managed a faint blush under the intense scrutiny. "What were you, boy, before Lucius found you?"

"A knight, sir... of the Cross."

If anything, Joran's smile actually deepened. He threw his arms around both father and son, laughing aloud. "A Knight Of The Cross! My dear Lucius, how ever did you manage to sway one with a sworn oath to his faith! This story I must hear---I insist you and your children join me at the party. In fact, my carriage is waiting outside. Let us go now so that I will have as much time as possible to get to know your Nicholas."

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

"I had an awful time," Nicholas admitted. "Not only was Lacroix angry with me, but Joran kept hinting---practically demanding actually---that I allow him the bloodkiss. Fortunately, Lacroix was adamant in refusing to allow that much, so the Elder eventually dropped it. But we ended up having to spend the day and I had the strangest dreams of black shadows watching me as I slept." He shuddered. It had taken months to get the feel of iciness to depart his body afterwards. "When we finally were allowed to leave, I was almost glad to accept Lacroix's beating for not doing as he'd told me. If he had not been there, I don't think the Elder would have let me depart from London the next night."

Tess snorted angrily. "That oily bastard always was the charming liar."

Nicholas almost smiled at her from his position on the floor, but kept his eyes closed. The Hunger was really bad. His Vampire was afraid as well as recovering from injury and it wanted the comfort of blood. 'No!' he mentally sent to it. 'Not now. Later...you can eat later.' Predictably, his inner beast was not impressed. It sensed danger and wanted--nay, needed---to be strong to defend itself. And how could he blame it? He was frightened too.

"Joran or Lacroix?" Nicholas asked Tess, hoping to be distracted from the rising need and phantom fears with humorous banter.

"Him too!" the dark angel huffed. "But I was referring to Joran. He knew full well who you were and how Lacroix found you. Saints, child, he was watching the whole thing."

"He was there?" Nicholas' eyes flew open. "Why didn't Lacroix tell me?"

"Because he didn't know about it, Fang Boy. You see, 'Joran' was there spiritually—not physically."

Nicholas looked dubious. "He's an angel too?!"

The supervisor leaned down to knock him lightly on his head.

"Fallen angel, Nicholas. I know you're not feeling your best right now, but try to keep up with the facts. That creep hasn't seen God's Light in countless eons."

"He's an Ancient. Of course he hasn't--" Nicholas began to protest, not wanting to accept what Tess was telling him.

"Oh, cripes, Uncle Nick," Jenny burst in. "She means he's a demon!"

The vampire paled to a deathly white.

"Oh. Thanks for clearing that up." Nicholas replied with unnatural calm. "I've got another pissed off demon to face...it's all right, defeated Legion, what's one more to fight? I can do that."

A vaguely familiar face materialized above De Brabant, startling him out of the shock he had been about to slip into as he realized where he had seen it before.

"Adam... is that you?"

Review Answers:

Louie Pastiche: There was one quick shot of Schanke's wife Myra standing in the doorway of their home after Schanke was killed. The daughter was only mentioned by name... so I felt free to give her whatever personality I wished. Here she is Goth mostly because of anger at both Don's death and perceived abandonment by Nicholas.

Trecebo: I enjoyed that line too. Not a real fan of Tess, however. I was pulled into that series by Andrew. -coughs-