A/N: Thank God! With PC on its last gasps, I've been doing my dangdest to learn Mac formats and functions AND get one of my beta posts copied to the right format so FFN would quit rejecting them. I love my Mac so far, but unlearning Windows is proving to be hard on both of us.

Cheers!

Part 27: This Way Comes

Joran smiled humorlessly down at the angel, purposefully speaking so low that to even the nearby vampires his words were but a murmur. "You make pretty speeches, Andrew, about lecturing on family bonds and virtues. And your disguise is well doneI can even smell the faint trace of blood on your breath. However, your attempt to deceive me is futile. You see, I remember you." He gave an evil snicker. "Indeed, how could I forget the young Singer who helped to gift wrap my present for me? Since I suppose I still owe you for practically shoving dear Nicholas into the Darkness back in Paris, I may allow you to leave unbroken…this time, foolish choir angel."

"I do not need your permission to be here, J'ranor," responded Andrew in the same, whisperedyet much iciertone. Tempting though it was, he decided against correcting the demon on what his current celestial status was. It was better that his foe continue to underestimate him. "Neither of us hold domain on this land… and you know you cannot destroy me any more than I can destroy you."

"No?" the demon scoffed, a bit taken aback that Andrew knew his real name, "well, perhaps not, little Singer, but I believe my threat was to destroy your vampire body. Surely your bosses will be most displeased with you either way. If I were you I would save yourself the added embarrassment of your pathetic spirit being sent whimpering back to...Him." J'ranor's lip curled in distaste at having to make any mention of God at all.

"And you think 'killing' me will get you Nicholas?" Andrew gave a low laugh. "He will only resist you all the more. Face it, J'ranor; he has a stronger will than your other prey. De Brabant will never accept youjust as he never accepted Legion. You've already lost the battle, demon..." he let a bit more fang show, "you just don't know it yet."

Both pseudo-vampires were now teetering on the edge of blood rage, J'ranor from his true demonic nature, Andrew by the prompting of his temporary 'beast' to attack a threat.

J'ranor stared hard into the angel's face. His eyes were all aglitter with malice as he asked, "And what would you know of Legion?"

Andrew's smile grew even toothier in challenge, thoroughly caught up in the 'hunt'. He raised his voice. "Oh...so you haven't heard yet? I was with Nicholas when he kicked that pompous smog bag out. It will take a long time for your underlingor is it 'underlings'to recover from the devastation De Brabant inflicted on him."

"You lie," the arch demon spat.

"Have I?"

Jenny's scream became meshed with Monica's own as 'Joran' viciously swiped Andrew across the throat with his clawed fingernails. Caught off guard by the ferociousness of the blow, Andrew stumbled backwards. J'ranor smirked as the fallen angel/vampire crumpled to the ground clutching wide-eyed at the jagged wound left in their wake.

"You're out of your league, Andrew. Better go back to your playpen with the rest of the tots; I have neither time nor patience to deal with your pathetic ilk."

His victim gurgled helplessly, unable to speak as his blood flowed down into passages never meant for the ruby liquid to invade; however, J'ranor was no longer interested in anything the muted Andrew might have had further to say, he had already moved to grab De Brabant by the shirt front with his bloodied hand.

"Go," J'ranor growled the command at one of the waiting Enforcers, "and make sure that no one aids or feeds from the 'Ancient' one named Andrew." Blindly obeying the leader he saw only as High Councilor Joran, the Enforcer immediately went to stand over Andrew's choking form, daring anyone to help him.

The arch demon stared searchingly into blue eyes darkening even further by a mixture of fear and anger. "Legion, respond this instant; will make yourself known to me."

"Andrew spoke the truth," Nicholas gasped out. "I sent your underling... packing." The Belgian glared mutinously at J'ranor before dropping his chin to stare intently at the hand at his chest. Andrew's blood called to him in dizzying waves. His lips parted so his tongue could escape enough to wet them, but that was not what he really wanted to taste.

So hungry…

No… it's not right. Andrew…

I need to feed!

Yes… just not now. Wait.

"Do you smell his blood on me, de Brabant?" J'ranor asked pleasantly. He snickered as the vampire squirmed uncomfortably in the iron grip yet kept burning red eyes affixed to the hand holding him upright. "Of course you do. And you want itquite badly, I can tell. But that one's essence is not for you. It's too... rancid. No, what you want is something more wholesome; something to make your body strong and powerful again. Would you like that, my lovely? Because, you see, I am granting you the right to choose." The demon gestured at the throng of waiting vampires, his black eyes flecking with warm yellows; voice a seductive purr. "I am offering you a gift, Nicholas. You may feed from any you fancy. Go ahead and slack your thirst on any of themat all save for Andrew. You man even sup from Kurkan. I deny you no one as long as you drink whomever you pick until they are utterly drained. Oh… and I want to watch your face as you relish each drop."

"My lord!" The High Councilor's servant looked a bit paler than normal.

"Shut up, Kurkan," Annoyed at the interruption, J'ranor angrily directed his Interviewer to silence. "You have served your primary purpose and I have no further need of you unless this young one wishes otherwise? He quirked an inquiring eyebrow at his captive; thus utterly missing the raging expression that swept over his discarded lackey's face.

The bald vampire rose to his feet, eyes seething pools of scarlet as he hissed at the one he'd followed so blindly. "You promised me power. A seat on the new High Counciland now you would let my blood nourish that Northern cur? Or was that it all along, Joran? That he was always meant to replace menot as your servant, but as your companion!"

"Be quiet, you blathering imbecile," J'ranor barked at him, becoming more and more irritated with his usually submissive convert's sudden rebellion. How dare the little upstart question his decisions!

"No! I served you faithfully for over a thousand years. And now you think you can just throw me aside?" Kurkan spat. He pointed an accusing finger at the demon as he declared to the assembled, "Joran plans to destroy the High Council and recreate it with his own peoplewith himself as First!"

"Well, well, well..." Lacroix chuckled as everyone on his side voiced their outrage, "it seems that you are accused of treason, most Honored Joran. That is a high crime for a High Councilor; indeed, a crime worthy of the True Death."

"An accusation only," Joran snorted. For close to 3,000-years now, he had carefully masked his true nature from the Night People in order to insinuate himself into their top echelon of power, he wasn't about to let some petty grievance by Kurkan worry him now. Indeed, at any earlier time, Kurkan's declaration would have been a potentially devastating blow to his designs; however, since he was now so close to his goallet the blood drinkers rant. They'd learn proper awe for the Power in there midst soon enough. Those that survived long enough to worship him, that is.

Lacroix's voice was as smooth as a silk purse as he countered, "Maybe so; however, from such a source as your own aide, Janor? I think the Council would be very interested in what Kurkan has to say."

"And which of you would have the opportunity to tell them?" J'ranor sneered back. "By Community Law, until the First says otherwise I still command the authority of the Third Seat. At my word the Enforcers can destroy you all."

"Not if you're deadand your new plaything with you!" Kurkan roared. Snatching up a wooden stake from one of the Montreal vampires, he hurled it like a spear into the Councilor's chest, missing a direct hit on the heart by a mere hair's breadth. Following through with the momentum from the action, the Turk snatched up Nicholas from J'ranor's loosened grasp and took off flying high out over the waters of the shipping lane. Silently, Lacroix lifted up to race after them.

Over the lake:

The ex-Interviewer didn't look back as he flew like an arrow over the dark waters of Lake Ontario. Let the hellhounds of chaos be loosed upon the beach. He, Kurkan, ill-used and cast away, was going to survive and make everyone who had ever crossed him pay.

Clutching Nicholas close in his flight to still the knight's protests, Kurkan nuzzled the cold neck as he breathed in the scent of bared skin, "Joran would have had you drain me," he murmured, "but I said I would taste youand so I shall." Savagely, he bit down into De Brabant's throat, moaning in pleasure as he drank down huge draughts of cool blood.

Kurkan's preoccupation with draining the Crusader had a detrimental effect on his velocity as well as his sense: his slowing down allowed a pursuer to catch up. A vengeful Lacroix slammed into him, ripping the other's fangs from his son's throat. Twisting to defend himself from the Roman, Kurkan let go of the Brabantian as he grappled with his long-time enemy.

Too weak to even levitate let alone fly back to land, Nicholas dropped like a stone, smacking hard into the chill surface waters of the Great Lake before it swallowed him whole. With little air in his lungs to help buoy him back to the surface, the dark liquid continued to give way beneath him as gravity dragged the vampire inexorably downwards towards the lake's bottom.

At the beach:

With a hiss of pain and fury, J'ranor managed to pull the wood from himself in time to watch Nicholas plummet and sink from view.

No!

"Destroy them! All of them!" he screamed to his Enforcers. Ignoring both the beginnings of pandemonium that his command had generated behind him as well as the battle already going on above the channel, J'ranor flew out to where Nicholas had been engulfed. The demon cursed his wound. Even though it was already healing, it did slow him down precious seconds at a time when speed was of the essence.

Though a rare happening amongst vampires, it was possible that the combination of extreme hunger coupled with fatigue and the intense cold could drive his prize into a coma. If that happened, J'ranor thought grimly, it could be years before Nicholas de Brabant awakened long enough to freely give control of himself over to himand Lucifer's general was not about to wait any longer if he could help it. Cursing his ex-servant as only a demon truly can, J'ranor plunged straight down into the icy depths.

At the beach:

"ANDREWLOOK OUT!"

One hand still holding his ruptured throat together while his vampire metabolism worked overtime trying to repair the damage, Andrew rolled at the sound of Monica's stentorian screamand narrowly missed the wooden stake of an Enforcer. Blessedly, his attacker was distracted from further attempts on the angel's temporary body when eight vampires led by Merlin attacked the giant, forcing him into retreat. Seeing that their own guard was also rather consumed by the fray, Monica ran with Jenny over to where her friend was.

"Oh, Andrew, I thought that monster was going to kill you for sure!" Monica exclaimed, "You're going to be okay. We'll call an ambulance…" She unthinkingly leaned forward to wrap him in a hug only to be grabbed and swung several feet away all within a split second of time.

"Your pardon, lady," a balding vampire wearing glasses gave her a grim smile, "however, it's generally not wise for such as you and the girl to get too close to an injured one of my kind." He growled as several of the vampires from Montreal fell to the Enforcers. "Feliks, your flank!" The 15th century florist ducked a blow, pausing to flash them a fanged grin and a salute before returning his attention to the battle.

"Silly orchid hugger is going to pushing them up if he doesn't learn to watch his sides," Aristotle muttered to himself. Actually, Feliks had stipulated in his will that should he ever meet the True Death he wanted his ashes used as fertilizer for his beloved plants. The Grecian vampire hoped he wouldn't be playing gardener any time soon, though. Botany never had held much of an interest for him.

He got down between Andrew and the women. "So..." Aristotle began amiably as if they were meeting over a tea party instead of sitting on damp earth during a bloody battle. "I suppose proper introductions are in order. My name's Aristotle and my friend here is Andrew." (He glanced Andrew's way. The other Ancient had his hands shielding the rather gory sight of esophageal reconstruction.) "But I take it you three already know each other?" He raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for an answer.

Andrew tried to speak, but his vocal cords were only half knitted back together as yet so he settled for smiling and pointing at Monica.

Jenny stared in amazement at the stranger wearing the eyeglasses. Somehow, she had never pictured that a creature of the night could be elderly and wearing a pair of visual aids. It just blew the mystique of The Vampire straight to hell.

"Shouldn't we move or something?" she advised after the shock had worn off. "I mean, we're in the middle of a flippin' major battle zone!"

"My dear young lady" the philosopher calmly replied, "we are not in the middle, we are on the outskirts. And this is hardly major...at least not yet. Now to see real carnage, the Battle of Hastings back in"

Andrew reached over and thumped him on the shoulder.

"Sorry," Aristotle smiled apologetically at them over the rim of his glasses. "After so many centuries, one tends to get continually sidetracked by the odd memory. He glanced with concern at the fighting vampires around them. Two of the Enforcers were dead and one nearly so. Unfortunately, so were all but two of those from Toronto's sister Community and most of the younger 'natives'. Janette was consoling a weeping Bridgette who was mourning over Ian's remains; Merlin was limpingas was Feliks. Zeus's thunderhad he not warned the youngster to watch his flank? It was basically down to eleven against one Enforcer at this end, with the evenly matched Lucius and Kurkan still dealing damage to each other out over the lake. What worried the Ancient philosopher was the question of what had happened to Nicholas and Joran. Alone, the former didn't stand a chance against the latter.

"Did anybody see where the High Councilor and de Brabant surfaced?" he asked.

A humanoid figure that was neither human nor vampire appeared beside Andrew before he'd finished voicing the inquiry.

"They're both still submerged." Adam looked with concern at Andrew's partially healed throat. "Man, that looks really nasty. Here, you better take this." A pearlescent-white crystal goblet appeared in his hand. Taking it, Andrew gratefully swallowed down the contents. He graced his friend with a smile after carefully clearing his throat.

"Thanks, Adam. I feel much better." Andrew grinned at the watching audience, his neck looking whole once more. "Thanks, Monica, for the warningand thanks to you too, Aristotle. I hate to think what might have happened if you had not intervened."

"You mean... you would have..?" Monica's hand went to her throat.

Her friend gave her a sad smile. "Not willingly. I was pretty hungry though."

"Wise is he who is aware of his limitations," Aristotle advised, "as well as the limitations of others." After trading introductions with the newcomer, he gestured pointedly a Jenny. "Andrew, after my fellows finish dispatching that last Enforcer... they're likely going to switch from one form of survival instinct to another. I hate to have to bring this up, but as you are aware, stress and wounds...?" He let the thought dangle.

"Exacerbate the Hunger," Andrew finished with a weary sigh. "I'll have to fly Monica and Jenny away from here."

"No!" Monica declared, upset at the thought of being separated from her friends again. "I'm now part of this, too, Andrew."

"And what about Uncle Nick?" Jenny piped up. "He might need us."

"Actually," Sam stated to them as he winked in amidst the group to gaze with concern out unto the lake, "the need to move them may have just become moot. J'ranor has found Nicholas."

"And…?" Tess asked as she also became visible to non-celestial eyes.

"The Father says that he is much disoriented from lack of blood and the cold: very near to a coma-like state."

Andrew stood up, preparing to fly. "I must help him."

"No."

The angel almost bared his fangs at his friend, but caught himself in time. "Why not? Nicholas needs my help!"

"Because, Andrew, J'ranor has positioned a guard of demons around himself and De Brabant. It would take the strength of Warriors to get through."

"Well, they are here, aren't they?" Monica asked.

Sam nodded. "Everyone is here and ready. But there is nothing we can do for Nicholas unless he calls for celestial help."

An attentive Aristotle had been listening to them talk. Now he decided to speak up. "Excuse me, sir, but how can Nicholas ask for help if he's on the point of a coma?"

Sam frowned. "He can't."

"How fortuitous then... for their side," Aristotle replied with acidic sarcasm, "I do hope you all have some sort of a backup plan?"

"Yes," Adam coughed, keenly aware that the vampire was not impressed with their battle strategy and would be even more distressed by his next words. "But for it to work, first Nicholas must be possessed by the demon."

The eyes behind the glasses seemed to double in size for a moment. "Are you saying that in order to win... we may have to lose?"

"That's one way of putting it."

Aristotle shook his head as he observed, "I've heard that the ways of your God are mysterious. It seems the stories were not exaggerating."

At the bottom of Lake Ontario:

It was cold. So dark and cold, the nearly freezing temperature quickly stilling even the smallest attempts of his limbs to slow his descent. Worse, he could swear that the darkness was becoming alive around him just like in his nightmares. Twisting nebulas moving in and out and coiling around him.

"Nicholasnicholsnicholsnicholsnicholsnicholsnichols," the dark shapes seemed to be chanting together. He wished they would shut upthey were keeping him awake, and all he really wanted to do was sleep. Yes, sleep and not dream of anything at all. At least he wasn't moving downward anymore. Had he hit bottom? Did it matter? He was numb and tired and wanted to sleep.

The shapes apparently protested this desire because their chanting actually increased in tempo.

Very annoying.

Nnnooo, Nicholllasssawwakennn!

"Sleepy. Go away," he thought at the annoyance. All of these blathering voices were upsetting his inner beast as well. He could feel it was upset about something. Nicholas's fangs ached to descendto drive the voices away. But that would be such a bother. Too tiring.

Sssleeepy, yessss. Ssstiiill... you huunggerrr morrre?

Insidious, nagging chatterer!

However, Nicholas mentally frowned, i t did have a point. He was hungry. But terribly sleepy too. He could always feed later after he'd rested for awhile. There were several bottles of cow's blood in his refrigerator he could avail himself of later after his nap.

Collldd, ssspooiled ssslloppp! Youurrre tooo huunggerrry fforrr sssuch offfal! Wee wannt tto ffeeed ffrrroom rrrich, ffoood!

Feed? He had to admit that that did sound good. Yes, his beast had been terribly hungry. Desperately so before the cold started numbing so much of the pain. Yet, to return to that pain's fullness even to quench it? It seemed counter productive. At any rate... There was something about this persistent voice in his ears that neither of his natures liked. Dangerous. And wrong. Wasn't it wrong for him to feed from anything other than animals? He was fairly certain of itbut his beast did not affirm the thought. It was just in need. And snarling about something.

Nicholas tried again to ignore the voices, but they wouldn't shut up. And they kept giving him mental pictures that did nothing so much as arouse his whole being. Needs, wants, desires long denied His fangs itched. The cold water was taking away the physical pain, but there were scary things in this darkness he did not like. And his family and friends were not here with him. He wanted Janette here to share his passion of being alive, Lacroix to chase away the phantoms and make his world secure, and Andrew to talk with because nobody talked with him and understood like his friend understood him. Even his beast accepted Andrew for all he was not of its bloodline.

Damn!

He was cold. He was hungry. He was miserable He wanted to go home!

Iiit's colldd herrre. Wwwett. Clllammy collldd wwwet. Yyouu donnttt llike beiiing wwettt. Awwfull fffeelling. Wwant to beee drrrry. Annnd fffedd! Sssucking fflaavorrr..ssscarrlettt ecccttasssy on ourr tonggue! Yesss? Wwarrrrm... Niiicholllasss wwwannts iiit?

Oh, yes! To be warm! He wanted to feel warmth inside and not this dulling cold! To feel liquid heat flowing down into his center instead of annoying wetness without. His beast wanted this too: To feel alive was what made immortality bearable!

But he couldn't move!

Nicholas growled deep in his throat with the frustration of his situation!

He needed to get up and feed! If only he wasn't so cold.

Lllet meee aaid yyouu. Joiin wwithh meeee, the voice suggested.

Nicholas felt his beast rumble with outrage. It had its host to hunt with, they wanted no other outside of its pack! Let this interloper get its own prey!

Havve I upsssett yyouu, Niicholllass. Howw cannnn yyouuu fffeedd ifff yyouuu cannot rrisssee? I wwilll takkke yyouu uup. I wwill helllp yyouuu. Nnnoo otthher cannn. Innn rrreturrnn yyoou wiilll fffeedd. Asss muuch orrr asss lliittle asss yyouu llike.

That was all? No demands?

Yyouuu ddo nnott trrrusst meee. Bbutt I carrre fforrr yyouu, Niicholllasss. I wwill nnot lllet yyouu ttakke morrre thann yyouu fffeell commffforrrtabllle wwith.

Well...okay, Nicholas agreed. As long as nobody was harmed, he guessed it would be all right to let the Vampire feed. Just a little, though. Just enough to stop the Hunger and go home. He so wanted to be home.

Fffeedd annnd beee ssstrrronnng. Fffor nnnowww, yyoourrr choiccce, the slithery voice reassured him.

After all, J'ranor smirked, he did not want to inhabit a weakened vessel. And the knight would be more likely to give in if he first awakened to full consciousness after having draining the body of someone he wished to protect. The resultant guilt would weaken his resolve as the victim's blood strengthened his body. He would not recover from that guilt so soon. J'ranor would not let him.

Not before the Night Child was his.

And then wouldn't those vampires be surprised when he revealed his true essence and joined with this one! Right before he used their precious Nicholas de Brabant to slaughter them all. The minion would do what the mighty Satan had failed to accomplish. He, J'ranor, would be the Murderer of all Life On Earth because he would have gained Dominion over this planet through this golden-haired child of the Hated One.

Oh, yesJ'ranor crowed as he wrapped his arms around de Brabant and rocketed skyward from the lake bed. Soon. Very, very, very soon now.

He could hardly wait.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

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