The real estate agent he'd contacted found him an upscale furnished loft in a recently converted warehouse near the market district, with an at-will arrangement. He thought it might be difficult to fulfill his particular requirements for out-of-the-way location, private parking, private entrance, and light-tight blinds, and was prepared to dance around any awkward questions. He needn't have worried; apparently in this city there was something for every taste, and the agent barely batted an eye. "How about soundproofing, Mr. Knight?"
"Thanks, that won't be necessary," and the raised eyebrow that this elicited was the only surprise evident on the part of the agent. What did people do in their off time around here, Nick wondered. It took only a few hours and three visits to different prospects to settle on his new home-away-from-home. Even his payment in cash, which Nick was sure would lead to suspicion, failed to raise another eyebrow. He was handed a receipt, a handshake, and "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Knight. If you require anything else, let us know."
As he got his stuff sorted out, Nick smiled in amusement at the bedroom decor. Platform bed centrally located, internal speaker system with input ports near the head of the bed. What made him laugh, though, was the assortment of heavy-duty polished chrome rings and hooks mounted in the ceiling over the bed. "Must've replaced the mirrors," he mused as he unpacked.
The precinct where Nick was assigned worked out of the waterfront district, which made him feel quite at home. Every waterfront district in every city, in every country, sheltered the same type of criminal activity. Drugs, hookers, smuggling, dumping of victims who'd been done elsewhere. His new coworkers were a bit wary of the newcomer on the night shift, a tight knit bunch much like he was part of back home. Not one to try too hard to fit in , he took it all as it came. One thing he noticed was that nearly everyone had either an Irish or a Latino surname, even the black cops. Captain O'Malley was a balding, beefy 20-year veteran whose appearance and straightforward manner reminded Nick of his former captain Stonetree.
"You'll come to uniform roll call and do ride-alongs the first two-three days, Knight, to give you a feel for the area. Then you'll get a partner to bring you up to speed on cases, and then we can just turn you loose. Sound good?"
"Sure, Captain, I'm here to learn. Whatever you can tell me about the business on this side of the border can only be a plus."
"You do any homework? About the BPD I mean."
"Well, some. I understand you've had an, ah, problematic history at times."
O'Malley laughed out loud. "They sure train you polite up north. Well without the frilly manners, this department has been a rat's nest for every take artist and backdoor deal maker you can name. We're still having to clean up after the last commissioner, who was on the payroll of too many connected city councilors and drug dealers. The new commissioner, he's been in place a year now and clean as the pope, but the public has a long memory and so do the crooks. So if you've ever been tempted by a little extra cash on the side, turn your ass around and go back to Toronto and save IAD the trouble of busting you."
Nick smiled. "No offense, captain, and not that it doesn't happen there too, but I think things have been a little less colorful in that respect where I've been working."
"Toronto, huh? Big city, bigger than Boston I think."
"Well people kill each other the same way there as here, only less frequently."
The captain rolled his eyes. "You got that right. I think we got more street gangs too, but we have a separate task force for that, and sex crimes too." He caught Nick's look. "Yeah, detective, we got so much ugly here they get to specialize. Maybe people are right and Americans are less civilized than our northern neighbors. I don't get paid to figure out why, I just do cleanup."
"Well in that we're about the same. Point me somewhere and let's get started."
Maura had felt a little edgy all day. She and the band rehearsed a couple of new numbers, but she couldn't seem to concentrate. "Hey Loony," Robyn's play on her stage name, "maybe we need to let this go until you can focus. You're a little spacey today."
"Sorry, really. I don't know what it is with me tonight." She'd settled in pretty well at the club, and had replaced someone named Mariah with little fuss. Since the band was changing their set lists anyway, there were no awkward adjustments in arrangements. They worked quite well together and got along fine, not much caring that Maura didn't rival Tina Turner. "This is rock'n'roll, not opera!" Robyn the frontman declared. The guys, Robyn on keyboards and synthesizer and also the main arranger, Sage the sometime bouncer on lead guitar, Rory on bass, and Luc on drums, were rather taken with having a mortal bandmate. It was only a week after her arrival in Boston, but the solid following the original lineup had developed seemed to transfer easily to the newcomer and new material. For the first time in her life, Maura felt stable and safe on her own. She still lived in Anton's house, but the arrangement was more convenient than protective; she paid him rent and cooked for herself. The one new moon she'd spent in town she had few worries for her safety, as an accepted member of the Community by way of Janette's influence she had little to fear from outsiders. Still, she didn't feel dependent.
"Reliance and dependency are two very different things," Anton had told her. "You might rely on your friends if you need help, but depend on yourself for everything else." It was a new and welcome feeling. Still, certain songs raised strong emotions, particularly the love songs that she was occasionally urged to sing to accommodate slow dancers.
"I heard the one you wrote with Derek, he sent a tape," Robyn tried to persuade her. "Valentine's Day is coming next week, it'll be a killer."
She was adamant, she would never sing that one, ever. "It's just no good here, I can't explain it." Derek hadn't filled anyone in on her personal business, so she had to accept the reputation for being stubborn.
Valentine's Day, shit. She never quite managed to put Nick completely out of her head, though it was getting marginally easier to get to sleep by sunrise, sometimes earlier. She'd hoped to leave the longing behind in Toronto but knew that after one week or five or ten it would be impossible. She was unable to shake the physical sense of loss, even when fully engaged in her new life, as if some vital organ or limb were gone and the phantom sensations wouldn't let her be. It had been almost two months now. Even as she ran from Toronto, the willful contrary part of her was hurt that he didn't follow. He must have returned home by now. Who was she kidding, the link that bound her to him would never let up until one of them was dead. She'd just learn to live with it, as she'd learned to live with far more traumatic things in the past. But as reliance was different than dependence, missing was different than gone. "Gone" wouldn't get a second thought. "Missing" was a constant companion. Shit. She'd never be shed of him, even if he were completely shed of her.
"Yeah Rob, sorry. Better call it a night." The club was closed, Sundays being less popular with mainstream customers than their dungeon-bunny counterparts.
"I'll give you a lift," Sage offered.
"Nah, I'll walk. It's not far, and it's not all that bitter tonight." It had been a warm February so far, and Maura enjoyed the twenty-minute walk from the Fenway to Anton's brownstone. The route was well-lit by the quaint gaslights along the way, and she'd never had a problem at this hour. The freaks and weirdos were all down for the count by 3am, with their drugs and fetishes to keep them warm. Tonight, though, something had her looking over her shoulder every few blocks. "Hey, someone there? Guaranteed I've seen worse than you." Suddenly she felt she was looking in the wrong direction, and stopped cold in the middle of the street. "Nick?" she barely whispered, looking straight up into the stars. Hovering just out of sight, it was all he could do to keep from replying. Maura shook her head to clear it, and continued home.
Anton was shutting the blinds for the coming day when she let herself in. "Hey," she greeted him but didn't pause before heading upstairs.
"Practice go okay?"
She stopped and shrugged. "Not so hot. I wasn't really on the mark tonight."
"You've been adjusting fast to a lot of new things. Maybe you're rushing." She'd never known such an in-tune vampire.
"Yeah, yeah, well unlike some I don't have a couple millennia to get it together."
Anton smiled good-naturedly. "Get some sleep Maura, your bitch is coming out."
"Well yours is going to bed, see ya tomorrow night."
By the time she got to her room she was completely drained, not even bothering to put her clothes away before she crawled into bed after looking at the carefully preserved note in her wallet. She supposed it was her fault for keeping it, but even in sleep she couldn't escape; Nick filled her dreams. Maybe he did it on purpose, LaCroix having schooled him in all things, but he didn't talk to her as his teacher had on the occasions he'd invaded her sleep. Just replays. "Just". She woke next day on the edge of tears.
Valentine's night at Pulse was as different from Raven as night from day. At Raven, S&M was the theme. Here it was hearts and champagne and roses everywhere. The Vie sans Fin rose Maura found outside her door before leaving for work brought an ache and a smile at the same time. The last time she'd gotten one was... never mind. Anton must have left it for her, without a note. She pinned it to her burgundy velvet pullover (paired tonight with tight black jeans and high red boots, Valentine's rock-chic) and an exquisite ruby cabochon heart surrounded with finely wrought silver roses on a delicate silver chain. That necklace had arrived in the mail last week, return address Toronto. Janette and the crew at the Raven, she assumed. Her hands and wrists were decked with garnet and ruby jewelry she'd collected over the years. She'd left all the others, gifts from Nick, back in the Toronto in the rosewood box he'd given her for her birthday. She could walk away too, she'd declared to herself at the time. Yeah, right. She thought of the note in her wallet as she picked up her purse to leave. She was a living connection to Nicolas de Brabant Knight, and there wasn't a goddamn thing she could do about that other than die.
"So got any plans for tomorrow, Nick? 'Special lady' to wine and dine?" Brian Murphy was Nick's assigned partner now that he'd gone through the initial orientation. Married, mid-30's, two daughters in junior high school, his wife Melissa was a born matchmaker like half the people Nick knew back home. As some of the squad had the next two nights off, romantic plans were being made both around him and for him, at least in theory.
"Hey, I've only been in town a couple weeks. Thanks for the compliment, but I don't work that fast. Quiet night at home with the stereo and a glass of wine." He'd found that getting a steady supply of cow's blood was even easier here than back home. And it seemed the local merchants had been aware of some "exotic" personal habits of the former tenant of Nick's loft, so nothing seemed to garner attention.
"Like the song goes. 'Full Moon, and Empty Arms'." Murphy was a piano fan.
"Yeah, well, I get by. You and your family have a great time at dinner." Brian was taking "his ladies" for a special night out. "Sure you won't join us? Missy and the girls have been dying to meet the new kid on the block."
"No thanks, really. Some other time when it's not a special occasion, okay?"
"Okay, have it your way. Stay home and brood. I get the feeling you like it better that way anyway." He laughed and clapped Nick on the shoulder. Was he that easily read, he wondered.
Nick really had intended to stay in, as he usually did, on a Friday night some weeks later, listen to the radio in the blessed absence of the draw to CERK and the Night Crawler. He randomly pressed the search' button and it landed on a local rock station broadcasting live from a downtown club. He wasn't really paying much attention as he settled on the leather sofa, feet up on the glass coffee table and glass of blood in hand as he perused the city paper. It was the tail end of an edgy song, and something about the female lead singer's voice pushed a button in Nick. When the last chord faded to applause, he was nailed where he sat.
"Hey thanks guys, I'm still new in town but it's nice to be appreciated. Let's kick a little more butt before we collapse in a pool of sweat for a little break..." and even as he admitted to recognizing the voice, he also recognized the band launch the opening riffs of Fire Down Below. Nah, couldn't be. He knew she worked in a Kenmore club but figured it was security, as always. She was way too shy about her voice to front full time for a house band. But when the first lines blasted out, he sat up straighter. "Shit." It was her. He'd followed her home once or twice from work, hovering out of sight, just to see her. Just to be nearby. She was doing pretty well considering he'd treated her like last week's trash, and since he'd drawn the line at the occasional "fly by" he had no idea how she re-read his parting words every night, no idea how the abandonment still defined her life. Janette had refused to tell him anything, even after he'd found out where she lived.
"Nicolas, you set this in motion and you must catch up to it on your own. You have found her, as you said you would. Now you must decide what to do."
"Janette, you know her."
"But I do not love her, Nicolas, you do. What I think is of no importance and cannot help you decide what to do. You can have any answer you want, if only you will listen."
That had been nearly a month ago, and he'd managed nothing more than his furtive surveillance on one or two occasions. Hearing Maura's voice, though, kicked something into gear. He came here not just to "find" her but to see her, to try to put their life back together. So Nick drained his glass, got up and went out to the club. Blue jeans, grey cowl-neck sweater, brown leather bomber jacket and boots. He'd affected the local style, letting his beard grow out a little beyond the stylish dusting stage, because his sharp-dressed man stuff stood out like a sore thumb in Boston. Working-class scruffy seemed to work well here. He didn't give up the shades at night though. He hailed a cab, deciding the Caddy would be too conspicuous in the club parking lot.
To celebrate a special "Welcome Spring" night the band had the whole stage all night long, which meant they'd had to work up a monstrous set list, just about everything they knew plus a bunch of new material. They even threw in a disco set, which was the groundwork for an upcoming 70's night that Anton had in the works. He was a sharp businessman, was Anton, and kept every single lesson he'd learned about human nature in 2000 years.
Halfway through their version of Tragedy, arranged to the split second for laser and pyrotechnics, Maura almost lost the beat. Something like an electric shock ran through her, and she even stepped back from the mike, shooting a glance at Robyn who was directing this particular spectacle. His return look said "Huh?" so she just went on. By the time the song, and the set, was finished she saw Anton beckoning her from the edge of the bandstand.
"There's some guy here looking for you. Nobody I've seen, said his name is Nick and you know him. He okay?"
She looked to the main entrance and saw Lily and Rafe, two of the vampire bouncers, holding someone at the door. It didn't take more than a glance to tell who it was. She gulped. "Yeah, Anton, he's okay."
"But you came to town to get away from some guy. Is this him?"
"Yeah, but don't worry. He'd never hurt me, not in the physical sense anyway."
Sage overheard, and chimed in. "Yeah, well if he gives you any trouble just give the sign and we'll take care of him."
"He's one of you."
"I don't give a shit." Anton's expression said he didn't , either. Boston was Boston, mortal or im.
Maura smiled and patted his arm. "Thanks, o guardian demons. You'll be the first to know."
Anton gave a wave to Lily and she had a word with Rafe. They stepped back and Nick ventured into the club.
When Maura approached Nick halfway along the side bar, they both just stood and stared for a moment. The working-class look suited him, she noticed, the GQ-pseudo shadow beard replaced by the real thing, not too thick but not that "stylish garnish" as she used to call it. Between that and the jeans and beat-up leather and very un-tailored sweater open at the throat (finally!) Maura though my god, this is how he was born to look. But then she'd thought that a million other times too. He looked so good her stomach hurt.
"I like your hair, it's hot," he told her, admiring the wide blonde streaks she'd added to the long shiny red he already loved, but managing not to reach out and touch it. Hot? He'd never used that word with her. He was picking up on the local lexicon.
"Yeah, well, you're looking pretty natural yourself." After another minute she shook her head. "I don't know what to do. Do I say thanks for finally penciling me into your life, do I jump into your arms and make a scene for the customers..." her voice flattened, "Or do I reach for the nearest sharp stick. Because believe me, I'm right on the fence."
He didn't quite smile, didn't quite frown. "Do I get a vote?"
The turmoil she'd tamped down for so long was starting to bubble. "I'd say not."
The look on his face, indefinable by mere words, caused her a physical pain. She really wasn't enjoying this.
"Can we at least not pretend to be strangers?" he requested. The noise of the night whirled around them but it was as if they were in a glass cube.
"I'm not sure we're not," she answered honestly. Now he took a step closer, reached a hand to her cheek.
"Please don't say that. I wanna hear everything you need to say, but not that." When she looked him hard in the eye the hand withdrew.
So she said nothing, staring at the floor, waiting for the echo of his fingers to leave her face. "I'm no good at this, Nick, you're the master of angst."
And he was gone, just for a moment, and returned after whispering something in the D.J.'s ear. Alexa was her name, and like all of the staff she was a vampire, and knew Nick's nature the minute he'd walked in. She also knew there was something here that none of them were privy to. She cued up the song he requested, a smooth disco number with very meaningful lyrics, 70's style shit about a man who'd lost it all.
When Maura recognized the lead-in, she tried to turn away. "Jesus, Nick." He stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Dance, lady?" only this time he sounded like a hopeful prom date and not the noir seducer. He added, "I know you remember that, at least." He moved to the dance floor and she was completely unable to do anything else but join him and take the hand he extended, the other hand on his shoulder as they found the rhythm.
Then they started moving together, really moving, complex and fluid, anticipating every move so they fit together. She closed her eyes, never missing a beat and losing herself in the music and the movement of their bodies in perfect tandem. As always. "Look at me," he told her when he pulled her against him for a cadence of two heartbeats, and she did, sideways, cheek-to-cheek, and what she saw was sorrow beyond "I'm sorry", which would merely have angered her more. What she saw wasn't apology but something different she couldn't name, different because she knew in that moment that even had he known what would happen he still would have walked off with LaCroix that night.
"Do you believe I love you?" A question so direct there was no clever reply to be had so Maura responded with a directness of her own.
"Do you believe my life turned to hell when I thought you'd gone for good?" They were standing still now, oblivious to the dancers around them. Nick's response was to kiss her, hard. She tried to break away but his immortal strength held her like a vise. When at last he let her breathe he told her fiercely, "I believe that. Everything else we can talk about, everything else is negotiable. But I love you, and that is the reality that the universe has to be based on."
Maura shook her head and Nick allowed her now to shove her way out of his grasp and flee the dance floor as he followed close behind. Anton was there in a heartbeat to stand between them.
"I think she's had enough reunion for now." Nick tried to move past but was stopped by a hand on his chest. "My club, my rules. Leave her alone, you've been pretty good at that so far." Maura was startled to see Nick's face transformed into a feral snarl as he pushed back with a hiss.
"Our issue," he glowered.
"Stop this, both of you," Maura insisted. "I won't be the lame excuse for some immortal hissing contest. Anton, he's right. We may not be doing this very well, but it's our issue. If I need to get rid of him I'll do it myself, okay?"
He looked warily at Nick. "Your issue, but my club and I don't want you giving any other customers ideas that it's okay to manhandle the women here. You got that?"
Nick looked normal again. "Yeah, okay." But when Anton stepped back, Maura stepped up and slapped Nick across the face with enough force to snap his head back .
"Don't you ever fucking hold me back like that again, goddamn you, you know better."
Nick fingered his jaw. "I earned that. Have you got it out of your system, or should I plan for another round later?"
"Assume nothing. I've learned not to."
Maura noticed Robyn waving at her from the stage. "Gotta go earn the rent. I'm off at 2."
"I'll be here."
"Well ain't that new and different."
"So everything cool?" Sage asked as he gave her a hand up onstage.
"Nothing I can't handle."
Luc smirked. "Yeah, right. Wonder Woman rides again."
"Fuck you, bongo boy."
Predictable as midnight (or 2am), Nick was waiting by the bar when the band had packed up. A couple of staff had tried to tell him it was past closing, but Anton indicated he was waiting for someone and was to be left alone.
"So." Maura dropped her bag on the bar and stood in front of Nick, who was looking a little uncertain. Good, she thought. Uncertain should be at the top of his list right now.
"So." He added the only honest thing there was to add. "What now?"
"You tell me." Shit, that was a lame dodge, she cringed inside at the cliché.
"I already did."
By now Anton had passed discreetly back and forth several times, not so much concerned about another confrontation as he was eager to lock up and get home before daylight trapped them all. On the fourth pass, still hearing nothing but not very clever monosyllabic verbal swordplay, he stopped in front of them.
"Look, I hate to interrupt this sophisticated debate, but I'd really like to call it a night. Maura, why don't you bring your whipping boy," she glared at that, but Anton could sense a bitch-slap festival coming as sure as sunrise, "back to the house. You two have a lot to talk about, no reason to stay on your feet."
"It's where she thinks best," Nick commented. Anton cocked an eyebrow at his courage. Maybe this guy was just a fuck-up and not an asshole.
"Look, I have a place near the waterfront, maybe it'd be more private, if you feel like dealing with any of this now. Your call."
She shook her head negative. Being alone with Nick now would be a mistake. She figured he understood that too, but was giving her a couple of options to let her know the ball was completely in her court.
"Nah, Anton's right. Let's go back home ('home', Nick found it hard to hear that word attached to somewhere he'd never been) and we'll see where else this can go tonight. No promises, though. If I start to flame up we'll let it go until later, okay?"
"Okay." Nick felt wildly grateful she wanted to talk at all, especially right after his abrupt reappearance. Then again, she knew by now vampires were all about 'abrupt'.
"We'll walk, if that's okay," Maura told Anton. He usually brought his car for the short trip because he was always ferrying stuff to the bar. His exotic top-shelf liquor collection was imported straight to the house.
They strolled a couple of blocks in silence, the neon of the square fading to gaslights and moon-scattered shadows from the trees lining the street.
"I shouldn't have belted you. That was totally wrong."
"Maybe, maybe not. Like the joke says, first you have to get his attention."
"I've always been good at that. I just don't seem to be very good at hanging onto it."
"Not true, Sweet." He hesitated. "Have I lost the right to call you that?"
She shook her head. "Probably not. Throwing something away isn't necessarily permanent. Some things you can pick up again."
"How many? All of them?"
Maura stopped short in the shadows between two gaslights a block from the house. "Look why don't we drop the metaphor okay? We both know we're good at them, but it gets old."
In spite of the situation, Nick smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that. Clever isn't my strong suit nowadays."
They continued to the door, and Maura let them in with her key. "Living room's through there. You need anything?" She knew Anton kept a supply of blood in a special fridge, but it was human. "All I got is O positive, sorry."
"No Chateau Moo du Pape?" She didn't respond to the reference so he let it drop. "That's okay, I'm fine for now."
She returned to the front room with a bottle of spring water, and sat in the chair opposite the sofa where Nick was perched.
"Talk to me, Bats. I already know what, you gotta tell me why."
So he did. He didn't apologize, he didn't dissemble, he told Maura the tale beginning to end of LaCroix's "sure thing" and how it turned out not to be. He told her what they'd done, what he didn't do, how sorely he was tempted to tell LaCroix to fuck off and return home, but in the end he knew the battle would never be over if he didn't do this one more thing.
"It wasn't about doing the right thing, not like you think. I started out to want to listen to LaCroix, but it was only because I thought he really meant what he said, one more conversation. I almost walked away when I knew what he really was after. But I also knew he was as good as his word this time, because he really believed he had me. I knew he'd back off if I went with him and proved him wrong. And I knew if I didn't, he'd never leave you alone. Not me, you. Because he thought everything I am and do was linked to you." He stopped then, waiting for a response.
"Why Nicolas, are you finally admitting that true love hasn't transformed you?" There was nothing of sarcasm in her voice, it was more a hint of amusement.
"Okay, okay. We both know I started on this path before I ever met you, a hundred years before. I just misread the signs and thought I'd wound up somewhere different than I was, I thought I was still on the road when I'd actually found a reason to stop moving on." He paused a little self-consciously. "Here I go with metaphor again… but I honestly had it figured out before LaCroix's proposal. You're not responsible for the life I have now, but what we have together is just one more thing that makes it worth hanging onto. All that remained was to convince him." He braced himself for her protest of one of the words she'd love to strike from his vocabulary.
"Well thank you jesus, you have fine tuned your need to convince." Nick wore a very Schanke-like look that said he had no idea how to take her. "I can't say I totally understand you not telling me, and I really can't say that I agree with any of it. For christsake, almost three millennia between you and you still act like adolescents high on testosterone. But I believe, I really do Bats, I believe that you felt truer than true it was the only thing to do, and that you weren't just doing it for yourself." She sighed though, and dropped her head in her hands. "I wish I could look at this as some sort of willing sacrifice on my part, even if I didn't know about it. I'm trying really hard to see it as being pushed out of the way of an oncoming truck, and getting very banged up in the process." When she looked him in the face again, her eyes were haunted. "I'm trying, but I can't. Not right now, anyway. I could tell you all about it, I could tell you about being reduced to begging people for information I knew they didn't have. I could admit that my fucking ego likely took a worse beating than my feelings. But you know all of that, you know it. How could you not? If you didn't you'd just have tracked down my phone number and called and said 'honey, I'm home'. I know this must have been hard for you, to come here and face me."
"Not as hard as you might think," Nick told her. "What else was there to do… I couldn't stay in Toronto without you, and I knew you wouldn't come back on your own. You're right, how could I not know the pain I was causing you? I think even if we weren't linked by blood, I'd have felt it anyway. But I couldn't change the course I'd taken without giving up everything, and that includes you. So for once I'm not here to beg forgiveness, to beat that old 's' word to death one more time. I'm here to tell you I made a decision based not on what I felt or believed, but what I know to be true. 800 years connected to someone leaves little room for illusion, Maura, and I had no illusions at all that LaCroix would hound you until you were forced to leave, and he still wouldn't have what he wanted."
She was shaking her head in exasperation. "No, goddammit, you just don't get it." Why couldn't he believe that LaCroix simply didn't register on her list of serious challenges?
He wasn't backing down this time. "No, Maura, it's you who don't get it. For all of your insight and empathy, for all of your experience with my kind, you are mortal. You – are – mortal. That means you really haven't a clue how powerful someone like LaCroix is, how many ways he can make you doubt yourself, doubt me, doubt your very life. He would simply outlast you. And even though you'd probably never do it for yourself, he'd convince to you leave for my sake. He'd find a way. LaCroix is not some con artist with a bag of magic tricks, Maura, he is immortal, and stronger and smarter and more cynical than you could be on your best day. You say you don't fear him, well you should. Your self-possession and quick wit may outmatch most mortals, but for most of my kind they're an entertainment, nothing more. LaCroix was already tiring of the game."
"But he knew if he killed me he'd lose you forever."
Nick's tone became very patient, as if he were explaining something complex to a child. "He doesn't have to kill you, Sweet. He can run you, without ever being able to hypnotize you or bring you over, he can run you from inside of your own mind. And nothing in the universe could have persuaded him not to use that power to separate us for good."
"Well if all that's true, how can you possibly believe he's going to back off? What could you possibly have told him that I didn't?"
"That what I am and how I exist now, for better or worse, come from my own design, not someone else's distraction."
Maura considered this for a few moments, staring at Nick, then at the floor, then out the window. He wasn't begging forgiveness, he wasn't admitting mistakes. The usual repertoire of confrontation had been completely abandoned, and it was confusing her. It began to sink in, more quickly and clearly than she was sure he expected. "So what you're telling me," she looked as if she couldn't quite believe she was saying the words, "is that it's kind of like the scene in the movie where the guy tells the crazy broad, 'go ahead and kill my fiancée, I still won't marry you'."
Nick tried not to laugh, but couldn't stop himself. "Yeah I guess that's about it. Once he believed that I wouldn't give up my life here no matter who was or wasn't living with me, he realized the game was up."
"Just like that. After 800 years, suddenly he sees the light."
"I guess it took that long to find the right approach."
Maura rose now and looked down at him. "Fucking hell, Just Nick, give me one good reason why I shouldn't stuff you full of garlic and shove you out the door at sunrise, just to be rid of your fucked up 'family'. Especially when you just told me in excruciating detail how life would just go merrily on if I left forever." She knew he had said no such thing but couldn't keep from playing the "boo hoo" card one last time.
He raised both eyebrows, smiled cluelessly. "I can't think of a single one. Except maybe you might want to see what happens next. I mean, where's your sense of adventure?"
He rose and took a step toward her, but she backed away. "Slow down. I have a lot of shit spinning in my head right now, and it needs to settle. Okay?"
He nodded, understanding, but reached a quick hand out to touch her face. "Okay. I don't want to suffocate you in an avalanche of logic, reasons, and metaphor. Not to mention film noir scenarios. Are you working tomorrow?"
"It's Saturday night, isn't it?"
"Do you think you can holster your weapon just for the next five minutes?"
He was right. "Yeah, I'm working."
"Mind if I come by?"
"Well I know I've been gone awhile, but I seem to remember it's a free country."
Nick rubbed his index finger between his closed eyes the way he always did when Schanke was trying his patience. Oops.
"Yeah, come by. I'll leave your name at the door.
She walked him to the front door where he turned to look at her, all playfulness gone. "I love you," he said simply, not touching her. She leaned forward and kissed him, soft but brief, one hand against his cheek.
"I love you too, Bats. Our cross to bear, I guess. Pardon the metaphor."
He gave a mock shudder. "You had to pick that one… see you tomorrow night."
Nick paused at the gate to look back at Maura a last time, and saw her watching him. They held each other's gaze a moment, saying nothing, and when he turned to go she watched him as he disappeared in the darkness.
"So, I didn't hear any evidence of fisticuffs."
She jumped a mile as she locked the door. Anton had appeared from nowhere and stood in the foyer, transparently curious.
"Jesus, Anton! I suppose you were spying on us, too?"
He drew himself to his full height, properly offended. "I did no such thing. I merely remained nearby in case my assistance was needed."
She smacked his arm. "Bullshit. You vampires are so full of bullshit! But as long as you were 'nearby'…" she paused uncertainly. Surely they'd gotten to know each other well enough for him to have an opinion even if he didn't know Nick, but she felt stupid asking. It required no special powers for him to guess the unspoken question.
"Well since you are almost asking me, I will almost tell you. You're a smart lady, sometimes too smart for your own good. Why don't you forget about teaching that immortal of yours a lesson, and concentrate on fixing what it was that got broken? Since by your own admission you'll be linked by blood forever, why not try to make the most of it?"
"Kind of like this house here, adapt to the structure instead of expecting it to adapt to you?"
"You're right. You are far to dependent upon metaphor. But that sounds like an accurate assessment."
Maura frowned as they approached the stairs. "I dunno, Anton, I've really come to doubt my judgment. Not Nick's intentions, but my own brainpower here. What if I'm totally wrong, what if we both are, and there's no way we can make this bizarro match work?"
Anton stopped short, blocking her path. "Wrong question. How about, do you want to risk being miserable by giving it another try, or walk away and make it a sure thing?"
She eyed him closely. "So where did you pick up that metaphor, huh?"
Anton shrugged, then smiled proudly. "Head croupier for Bugsy Siegel. Casinos are schools for life. Or one's approximation of it."
She couldn't stop laughing as they walked upstairs, but Maura took that lesson to heart. Bugsy may have wound up with sleeping with the fishes (she couldn't remember where he ended up actually, but extended the metaphor), but he was one shrewd dude. When she got to her room, she opened her wallet to look at Nick's well-creased goodbye note, hoping as always it would inspire her to some grand insight. She was surprised – but not surprised – to find a local phone number written at the bottom, in Nick's handwriting. When did he do that… shit, when did he do anything? Sometimes she'd give her right arm for even one of those magic powers. She thought for a moment, then smiled and shook her head. "Three months, and finally you give something up, you fancy-ass piece of paper…"
She reached for the phone and dialed. Not waiting for a greeting, she said "I hope you didn't find another roommate. I'm gonna be needing a place to stay when I blow this tourist town."