Maura gave a simple account to Schanke and Nick next day at the precinct. She told them about the times Kevin had come to the store when she was there.
"Did he ever talk about robbing the store?" Schanke asked her.
"No, he just talked about getting even with Darren but he never said what that meant when I was around."
"But the victim mentioned how Kevin Mitchell tried to convince him to help him plan a robbery, and/or bootleg DVD's and videos?"
Maura stiffened. "He had a name. His name was Christopher, not 'the victim'. " It wasn't the first time she'd told him that, both of them, and it was beginning to piss her off. Nick gave Schanke a meaningful look and switched off the recorder.
"I know it's hard for you, but I told you we have to do this a certain way," Nick explained gently. They'd been at it for over an hour, asking any and all relevant questions that could come up later or in court and that might help make the case even firmer. Maura's nerves were showing.
"I'm sorry," she sighed heavily. "I just, well shit it's hard to be so clinical, you know?"
"Yeah, I think I do," Schanke assured her. "Just a few more questions, okay, then we're through. You up for it?"
Nick had to admit, his partner could be very attuned when he wanted to. Maura nodded tightly as Schanke switched the recorder back on.
"Can you think of anyone else who may have wanted to hurt the vic… Christopher Martin? Anyone from the store, or from Raven where he came to visit you?"
Instinctively she began to answer with some hostility, but Nick caught her eye and his quiet gaze calmed her. "No. Absolutely no one. He didn't mix a lot socially, just had a few friends he spent time with. Me, and Darren."
"And Kevin Mitchell?"
"Yeah. I guess he considered Kevin a friend too." She wiped a weary hand across her face. "Bad move, huh?" Schanke hit the button on the recorder. "I think we've got what we need, huh partner?" Nick nodded.
"Thanks for doing this, Sweet."
"Detective, I think you'd better address me more formally while we're here."
"I won't tell," Schanke promised Nick, "you call her anything you want as long as it's polite." Maura knew that Captain Cohen had suggested that some "disinterested party" might be more appropriate to take Maura's statement, but both detectives had objected.
"C'mon, Captain, she trusts us. Why have her talk to a stranger?" Schanke had protested.
"Because she's not living with him, for starters."
"Look, Captain, I'll let Schanke handle the questions " Nick had assured her, "I'll just be there as a witness, okay?"
In the end she'd agreed. Now all that remained was for the notes to be transcribed and included in the case file, to be used by the Crown Prosecutor after the arraignment.
"Can you take a break to drive me to work?" Maura asked Nick, who immediately looked disapproving. She cut off his protests with, "I'm fine, Nick. I can't hide out forever, in fact it's better for me to be doing something other than moping around the apartment, okay? You caught the asshole, now it's just by the numbers. I've gotta get back to normal sometime."
Schanke busied himself gathering up the notebook and recorder. "I'm outta here, see you in half an hour."
"See? Your partner has no problem with it."
"My partner doesn't live with you." He studied her for a minute. "Okay. I guess you're right, I'm being a little too protective."
"A little? If you wanna be daddy, go adopt someone."
"I said you're right, all right?" He hugged an arm around her and kissed her cheek.
"Okay… daddy." She smiled mischievously and he made a face.
"That's too sick to be funny. Let's go."
"You're a vampire and I'm sick, that's rich," she muttered in the elevator.
He pulled up at the side door of the club. "I won't come in. I wouldn't want to be accused of smothering you."
"Ha, ha. And thank you." She opened the door, but was stopped by his, "Hey, hey?" and wounded expression when she turned to face him.
"Christ, Knight, you are so needy sometimes!" she laughed and leaned backwards to kiss him. "I'll catch a ride home. Have fun at work."
He rolled his eyes. "Always a party. Later, Sweet."
She watched him drive away, sincerely wishing she could feel guilty about deceiving him. Then she took off for the nearest phone booth to call LaCroix.
"Tomorrow they're transferring him for arraignment. I know they always truck the night court arraignments over to the courthouse at 10pm."
"And how do you know that Mr. Mitchell will be going to night court?" LaCroix replied drily. Maura matched him inflection for inflection.
"Duh, because the arresting officers have to be there. Which means Schanke and whomever, which means night court. Be by the transfer elevator at 10pm and do your thing on the cops. And before you ask, he's the only one going tomorrow. So it's him and a couple of uniforms, no more. Schanke's gonna meet them at the courthouse. If you're worried Mitchell will give you trouble, just do the spell on him too."
"I don't anticipate 'trouble'." His voice was frozen.
"Yeah but I couldn't resist. Have you decided where to take him?"
LaCroix gave her the name of one of the countless abandoned warehouses near the harbor, a storage facility that had been in disuse long enough not to have security guards but recently enough to have some securable rooms. He'd selected one of the ones that opened onto the dock, and had it fixed up in sumptuous style.
"Form the inside, he will think he's in Paris. I think I will put him under, just for amusement. I'll be able to make him believe he's anywhere at all."
"You have whatever fun you want to, LaCroix. But bring him across, and don't let him kill. I'll come by after 3am to get my party started."
"You haven't forgotten the blood?"
She hadn't. In the end she'd gone to Natalie to ask for assistance in finding a "cure" for her own curious condition.
"Just take a couple pints, Nat, and work at your leisure." Maura knew that she and Nick had given up on searching for a cure for vampirism Natalie had longed for a special "project" she could undertake to replace it. She'd readily agreed, and stored the specially marked sample bags in a locked cooler in the morgue.
"There are two pints, clearly marked as mine, stored in the morgue. You should have no trouble getting past the clerk. And they won't be missed for ages, Natalie's been very busy so she said she wouldn't have a chance to do anything with them for weeks."
"What exactly did you request the good doctor to do with them?" LaCroix inquired idly.
"Look for a 'cure' for me, of course. The one thing that definitely would guarantee her cooperation." She could hear LaCroix's quiet chuckle at the other end of the line.
"Oh, what a pity," he began.
"Yeah, yeah, you can't bring me across. Well that's a trip I'd rather not make anyway, so it's just as well. I'll see you at the warehouse after 3am Tuesday morning."
As she went to work for real, Maura felt a curious lightening inside. The alley didn't scare her anymore, and she even spent a little time relaxing there after stacking the empties before closing. She was getting ready for the proper goodbye, the one she still hadn't been able to give Christopher. She knew for certain the hole in her heart would be healed when Kevin Mitchell was dead in a very special way.
When she let herself in the loft, Nick was reading on the sofa. He'd lit the fire, and some candles. Uh-oh, she thought, he must be in a romantic mood tonight. She didn't dare get that close to him until the Kevin issue was settled.
"How was your night?" he asked her with a smile.
"Same old. Good to be back, though. I always feel a little at loose ends when I stay away from there too long. It's like I found a place at last where I really belong, I really fit in, in all my cosmic weirdness, and it's my element. Does that make sense?"
"Perfect." Nick put his book down and extended an arm along the back of the couch. "C'mere, take a load off."
She really meant to say no thanks, she just wanted to sleep, but god she could never resist when he was so warm and welcoming after a long night's work. She settled next to him and dropped her head on his shoulder.
"You feel like you're calming down inside," he told her. Nick had sensed a settling in her in the past day or two; he'd attributed it to the arrest and the knowledge that Mitchell would be put away for a very long time. There was something underneath it, though, something so subtle he couldn't even identify it but it was becoming more and more noticable.
"Yeah I guess I'm making my peace with things," she said vaguely. Then Nick pulled Maura closer and kissed her in the way she usually couldn't resist. This time, though, she pulled away after a moment or two.
"I'm sorry Bats, I just don't…" she wasn't sure how to continue. The lies had been pretty easy so far, but their weight was beginning to accumulate. She hoped he'd write off her distance to adjustment anxiety.
"Don't be sorry," he let her go, but rubbed a thumb against her cheek. "It's just that ol' devil new moon getting to me. Come on, Sweet, I know you're still getting back on your feet. Let's get some sleep."
For the first time since she'd conceived her plan Maura felt a flicker of shame. He really would do anything at all to help her through this, or anything else that troubled her. Even if she told him what she had in mind, framed it as an idle fantasy, he'd never believe it. LaCroix was right, Nick really had no idea who he was sharing his life with. He didn't know everything she was capable of. Even if he knew her well, he hadn't known her long enough to see what could drive her to her own dark side. He probably didn't even suspect it existed. She sighed as they went up to bed, wishing he couldn't hear, knowing he did. He said nothing after they'd gotten changed, only looked closely at her. She was certain he knew, something anyway, something was different in her that had nothing to do with peace. But he didn't ask, he wouldn't press her when he still felt she was so fragile. He came to her where she stood by her dresser and took the brush from her, stroking it through her hair, managing somehow to make a loving gesture from something that in other hands would seem to Maura to be nothing but patronizing. It was almost too much for her, and she turned suddenly to face him. Still he said nothing, though his eyes were questioning.
"I love you, Nick, from the bottom of my worn-out soul I swear I do." She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life, knowing that not long from now she could be cast from Nick's life forever. She knew it but wouldn't change course, not even for him. This was between her and Kevin Mitchell. The only regret she felt was for what she might be destroying along with him. As for the rest, she'd never felt more secure in a decision in her life.
Nick was convinced by now that Maura was hiding something important from him, something she was afraid to share. He'd never been one to insist on being privy to her every thought, but this time he sensed a palpable urgency. He'd hoped to be able to read it in her blood, and wasn't proud of his rather transparent attempt at seduction. His concerns for her had been driven underground as her state of mind was shielded from him. There was a delicate and unpleasant dance going on here, he knew, and its steps were as disturbing as they were unfamiliar.
"Maura." He spoke her name as if to get her attention and was unsurprised by her puzzled expression as he approached her where she stood turning back her side of the bed. He took her hand from the bedclothes, held it in both his own. "Sweet." He kissed her hand, back and palm. "You need to tell me."
He knew. Fuck him, he knew, and never tasted a drop of her to inform him. Somehow it didn't occur to her that living together, loving each other, and having come to know one another so deeply could provide its own insight quite apart from any otherworldly powers.
"Tell you what?" Lame, she knew it sounded so lame. This was going to be harder than she'd expected. He stood inches away, gazing steadily into her eyes.
"I won't know unless you do. If you won't, how can I help?"
Something pulled at her inside. She'd never lied to him before now, ever, had kept some things inside until he coaxed them out but never hid them away to aid some secret agenda. "There's nothing to tell." He blinked once, twice, with a spare shake of his head. Did he look hurt?
"First time for everything." Then he traced her cheek, held his palm against her face, and for a heartbeat her eyes closed and she was so close to telling it frightened her. No. This secret wasn't just for herself. Keeping her plan from Nick meant keeping him out of harm's way, in more ways than one. Whatever the Enforcers decided, if they even took note, they would spare him. Whatever the questions that arose from the police, he would remain untouched by suspicion. Liar. She was trying to ignore the most important thing, her most dangerous weakness, that if he knew he'd surely try to persuade her away from her intentions and the argument would throw everything off. Warmly and gently and lovingly he would convince her it was wrong, that mortal justice would even the score. If that failed, he could stop her anyway through sheer strength and determination. And that she would not risk. She claimed no moral authority even in her own mind and would be the first to admit that the imperative that drove her was cold and vengeful. She kissed Nick's hand as he had hers, back and palm, and told him "Don't worry so much, Bats. I'll be all right very soon."
Which is exactly what worried him, because he didn't know why.
"Where is he?" Maura demanded of LaCroix. She'd found the location without any trouble, having begged exhaustion and slipped away from the club. Nick, Schanke, and he rest of their precinct were conducting a citywide search for Kevin, who the attending officers reported had overpowered them. Though Captain Cohen found it difficult to believe that a scrawny 20-something could overcome two armed officers, the cops involved had spotless records even if they'd only been on the force six years between them. Nobody had expected trouble from this kid, so no special arrangements had been made.
LaCroix led Maura down a trash-and-graffiti strewn passageway and unlocked a metal door. "As promised," he announced, standing aside to let her pass.
Well he'd been right, it was kitted out like a Parisian whorehouse, sans whores. A bit overwrought, she felt as she took it in, walls hung in dark heavy drapes with deeply upholstered lounges and couches, huge pillows on the floor. It took her a moment to locate Kevin in the ruin of lush fabrics. She might have found the contrast between the prison and its captive amusing if she'd been in a laughing mood. As it was, it just disgusted her.
Kevin Mitchell lay sprawled semi-conscious across a pile of crushed velvet cushions, head lolling to one side, looking for all the world like an opium addict deep in his amusements. On a low table nearby was an empty wineglass next to a likewise empty carafe. The red stains left behind on the glassware and fabric attested to his recent feed. His condition attested to the power of her blood.
"I confess I was unprepared for his collapse," LaCroix told her, "I suppose that your blood at its most powerful was a bit too much for the wretched boy, it being his first feed."
"His only feed," Maura corrected as she drew closer to peer down at Kevin as a zoo visitor might look at a repellant animal. His torn jeans and "Fuck You" t shirt were wildly out of place in his surroundings but strictly in keeping with what passed for his character.
"You were quite right, by the way, young Mr. Mitchell required almost no persuasion to join me. He is stunningly selfish even by my standards. He swilled your blood like cheap beer, by the way. Frankly I think it's just as well he won't survive beyond this night; he would be so appallingly undisciplined and reckless that the Enforcers would make short work of him anyway."
Maura was only half listening. She stared transfixed at the creature LaCroix had transformed. His characteristically pasty skin was already taking on the translucent quality she'd become familiar with as the look of a newly converted vampire. Her blood was smeared on his chin and mouth; the thought that she'd helped sustain him even briefly sickened her. She looked at her watch merely from habit to see how close it was to sunrise. A lifetime of existing among night dwellers has developed her internal clock to near-vampiric accuracy.
"Where's the door?" she asked, not waiting for an answer as she pulled aside one drape after another. "Your new recruit and I are gonna take a walk." She nudged Kevin roughly with the toe of her boot. "Rise and shine, dude."
He stirred slowly at first, until his master spoke. "Kevin we have a visitor. I believe you know Maura through a mutual friend."
Kevin sat up and struggled to his feet, as if he'd simply smoked too much weed too quickly. It took him a moment to focus; Maura guessed he was still adjusting to his newly heightened senses.
"Oh, wow, yeah, Maura, right." Funny, he still sounded exactly like his mortal self. Then again, Maura had never known anyone on both sides of the mortal divide, so this was a first for her. "Hey, wow, you know about Christopher, man, well, I didn't mean to, you know…" he was well and truly wasted and rather than here his ridiculous struggle to make lame excuses for his crime, Maura cut him off.
"Why don't you tell me all about it outside, okay? You look like you could use," she stopped herself from saying "a little fresh air" and substituted "a change of scenery. You haven't seen the stars through your new eyes yet, have you?" She didn't need to ask him twice.
"Cool, yeah, that'd be cool."
LaCroix graciously drew one of the drapes aside and slid open the bay door that led to the docks outside. By Maura's reckoning it was barely ten minutes until sunrise. Already she could see the faint glow over the horizon. As he stumbled awkwardly behind her she heard Kevin call back to LaCroix, "Shit man, I didn't think we were in fucking Paris!"
The door slid shut behind them with a clang, and she heard the bolt slide home. She was sure LaCroix wouldn't want to witness what would follow; much as her plan had intrigued him it struck a little too close to home. Kevin was blabbering on about "that night" and how the cops didn't know shit and Christopher was his man, you know? It was all a fucking mistake. She tried to shut him out, but when he declared for the third time that he "didn't do nothing to hurt Christopher" she turned from the lightening sky and asked him drily,
"So I guess he cut himself, huh? He punched himself in the face, fell down on his own, found a way to bleed out until he died, huh?"
Kevin blinked at her, not quite getting it, but something else got his attention. If he'd forgotten momentarily about his new allergy to daylight, the gathering dawn reminded him now.
"Hey, we better get back inside. LaCroix told me," but he turned to see the locked door that had failed to register moments ago.
"I know what he told you." Maura's voice was as cold as the realization on Kevin's newly immortal face. "See, in just a minute or two that sun is gonna be high enough to fry you where you stand. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars."
Now he rushed to the door, pounded on it. "Hey man, lemme in! This cunt is crazy!" How predictably Kevin, she thought, and imagined LaCroix's grimace of distaste at his vulgar language.
"No dice, Kevin. No escape, no friends to hide behind, no fucking lame excuses to help you weasel out this time." The sun was up now, light bathing the docks. No shadows, nowhere nearby for him to hide, and he didn't know the area well enough to find a place to take cover. Wisps of smoke rose from his clothing and hair as he lunged for her. She dodged easily; he still hadn't found his "vampire legs".
"Surprise, Kevin, 'this cunt' has done you one better than you did Christopher. You left him there alone to die like a dog on the sidewalk, but here I am to keep you company in your final moments. In fact I wouldn't dream of missing it…"
His skin was darkening, beginning to blister, and a guttural whining escaped him in place of the words he would have spoken. His eyes, some mortal vestiges remaining, pleaded with her.
"Forget it," she told him, "the last thing you're gonna see is me, you fucking asshole, sending you to hell because it's the only place you belong. Like you said, there's an upside to everything, and this is mine."
He whirled madly for only a few seconds, the whine rising to a near scream, before igniting as if he were coated in flash powder. Maura stepped back as she watched the flames consume him. It didn't take long; in less than a minute only a greasy pile of ash and half-burnt clothing remained. And the Nike sneakers that Christopher had bought him for Christmas. Maura moved closer now to stand over the ruin of the murderer of her only true mortal friend, breathing through her mouth to shut out the stench. She spit in the center of the smoking pile, smiling ruefully as she heard it sizzle. "Fuck you," she snarled before returning to the bay door. She knocked twice. "Open up, it's over."
At the precinct Nick interviewed one of the transfer cops for the third time that night. The cop was exhausted, mortified by his and his partner's failure to perform what was supposed to be the simplest of tasks.
"I'm telling you, Detective Knight, that's all I remember."
Both this one, Jackson, and his partner Murdock had been decisive in their report of being "overpowered" by Kevin Mitchell, but neither were able to provide any details of what actually happened. Schanke was inclined to believe they were covering each other's butts, but Nick wasn't so sure. Jackson had been in the back seat with Mitchell and his partner had been driving.
"Okay, Jackson, let's come at it from a different direction. What do you remember from just before the escape? What can you tell me about what led up to it?"
"Okay, I'd gotten the suspect into the unit and Murdock was going around to get in the driver's seat. That guy came by and asked what time it was, and that's all that's clear."
Nick perked up. "What 'guy' was that?"
"Well I forgot to mention it before, it didn't seem important because he was just there and gone. Murdock was opening the driver's side door when this guy came up outta nowhere, wanting to know what time it was. I guess Mitchell used that distraction, I dunno." The cop was obviously frustrated with his inability to remember.
"What did this 'guy' look like, Jackson?"
"Well I just got a glimpse… tall. Kinda sick looking, pale, white hair cut short but he didn't look real old."
A realization was dawning, and Nick didn't like it a bit. "Kind of like a pale Marine?"
Jackson eyed him oddly. "Well funny you should put it that way, but yeah. Looked like a kind of albino Marine, but high class-like. Like I said I only caught a glimpse."
Nick was already halfway out the door of the interrogation room. "Thanks, Jackson, you've been a big help." On the way past Schanke he said, "I have a lead, I think. I'll call you," and before his partner could respond he was gone.
Nick floored the Caddy in the direction of home to beat the sunrise, figuring a call to Janette might point him to LaCroix. As certain as he was that his creator had something to do with Mitchell's disappearance, he couldn't imagine why. In any case, he'd be trapped at the loft until the sun went down. When he arrived to find an empty apartment and an undisturbed bed a sudden understanding hit him with unimaginable force. He paced like a caged animal, awaiting Maura's return, tormented by rage and the certainty of what had happened.
Maura and LaCroix said little as they cleared out the warehouse room, throwing the expensive fabrics in a nearby dumpster and leaving the furniture for some unnamed mortal minions to dispose of later. There was little to say, really, after LaCroix mildly inquired, "Are you content with the outcome?" and Maura had answered calmly, "Very." They parted company, LaCroix finding his way back to wherever he dwelt via underground passages. No gratitude was offered or accepted.
Maura spent the day wandering the city and dragged into the loft after sundown just as Nick ended his call to Janette, who had learned of LaCroix and Maura's adventure from LaCroix himself. He set down the phone and turned to face her as she slowly slid the door shut. She was bedraggled, sweaty, dirty from her hurried dockside clean-up with LaCroix, and utterly drained. Her face betrayed no expression at all, while Nick struggled between rage, horror, and disgust over what he'd just heard.
"I thought you'd simply had LaCroix kill him," he told her in a disbelieving voice. "I can hardly imagine you conceived of this… abomination." He was genuinely speechless and stood waiting for a response. Maura simply passed by him and slumped in the armchair near the sofa. He followed, stood over her, trembling with anger. "Don't you have anything to say?"
Maura stared up at him blankly. "What is there to say? You know what I did. I interfered in a 'police matter'. I obstructed justice."
His voice rose. "You killed a man, Maura, in the most horrible way imaginable! You took your knowledge of who we are, and you used it to kill a mortal!"
"I killed a murderer, Nick. We both know how he would have come out of your 'justice system', after a few years he'd be back out and doing it to someone else."
"How do you get off being judge and executioner? How the hell do you know what he'd do?"
Now Maura sprang to her feet, alight with her own rage. "Because I know him, we both do! People like Kevin Mitchell tear through life like drunk drivers, using, excusing, sometimes they kill, sometimes they don't, it's all the same to them. There is no justice, there is no rehabilitation, there is only the next victim down the line."
He spat back in an acid voice, "Oh, so you're saying you were performing a public service. He murdered your only mortal friend, but you were inspired to concoct this elaborately hideous death for the benefit of humanity? Forgive me if I don't consider you Toronto's newest social worker."
She'd been turning away from him, but whipped back around, abandoning any attempt at logic. "All right, it's true! You don't want to hear it, but yeah I enjoyed it! I loved watching him burn, seeing him bang on that door, and the last expression on his fucked-up face told me he couldn't believe that he couldn't weasel out of this one!" Now Nick was backing off, not secure enough in his righteous anger to want to hear more of this. But she followed him, and circled to stay in his face. "I know you, Nick, you'd like to console yourself by believing that LaCroix put me up to this, planted the idea. But he didn't, in fact he took some convincing to get involved. It was all me, Nick, all of it except the conversion and if I could have done that myself I would have. Kevin Mitchell took Christopher from me, from his family, took his life from him for no fucking reasion. Don't even dare try to judge me, you and your friends killed for sport for hundreds of years, killed people who deserved another chance. But assholes like Kevin Mitchell deserve nothing, the only thing you can do with them is stop them. So I did, because I could. And I got creative, and took from him what he held so dearly, his certainty he could get away with anything and deserved everything he wanted. His selfishness killed him, Nick, if he'd turned down LaCroix you'd have had no trouble finding him, he was a fucking moron. He made the choice, and when he did that he killed himself. Not that I ever doubted he would, his kind always would. And even if you don't believe anything else, don't fantasize that even you can live long enough to hear me say I'm sorry for what I did. I will never… ever… be sorry for any of it, not if I became immortal and survived to see the earth crumble to dust. Nothing you say, nothing you could imagine saying, will ever make me believe I did wrong." In that moment, Nick knew Maura spoke the absolute truth. The realization that there was no regret, no second thought, not the faintest glimmer of remorse, beggared his imagination. The question was not how to make her see the error she would never recognize, but how Nick was to get his mind around a side of Maura he'd never imagined existed.
"I know what I was, I know what I did before. But I'm finding it impossible to accept that you were capable of this."
"You have no idea what I'm capable of, Nick, because you haven't known me long enough to see how far I can be driven! You know me as I've been since coming here, who I've been and what I've done here, but not what I'm capable of. I've told you things about my past, but you weren't there. Do you suppose I've survived this long on good intentions and optimism? I lied to you as I've lied to others when I had to, yes, I lied and dodged and left you out of this for a million reasons I know are good and you don't have to agree with any of it. It just doesn't matter. It's done."
Her tirade was tapering off, and his anger was spent. Nick shook his head slowly as felt cold rage replaced with a bottomless ache. "It matters to me. I believe you wanted revenge, I even believe you wanted to stop Mitchell from using or killing anyone else. But I can't believe you when you say you planned it that way for another reason, that you enjoyed it. It's beyond believing."
Maura wanted to shake him, but held herself back. "Enjoyed it? I told you I loved it. I spit on his ashes, Nick, that's how much I loved it. I probably enjoyed it as much as you did your first kill. I'm just less likely to repeat it. Jesus, Nick, where did you come by the delusion that I'm some sort of guardian angel of truth and light? I've done plenty you only think you know about, and now it's time to face what I really am the way I've faced it in you. Maybe I'm like Janette in that way; I may not brag but I'm not ashamed either. That's hard for you to deal with because being ashamed of one's imperfections is something you seem to admire."
He flinched at that. Maura continued wearily, "I don't want your forgiveness, Nick. There's nothing to forgive. I did what I did, and you can either live with the knowledge or not. But I won't pretend to be sorry. Not ever. Now if you'll excuse me I have to call James Martin and tell him it's over." Even with all that had happened, this gave Nick pause. "Come on, Nick, you know he knows about all of it, about you and the Community. No, I didn't tell him about my plans, but I'll tell him about what happened. And he'll understand it, and he'll agree it was the right thing."
Bereft of any other response, Nick asked her incredulously, "Do you think Christopher would understand?"
Her eyes were dull as she responded in a near-emotionless voice. "Of course he wouldn't. But Christopher is dead, beyond understanding, or we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Nick stood staring at Maura, out of words, out of thoughts. "I have to get out of here," he muttered, grabbed his jacket, and raced out the door.
"That might make two of us," Maura said so quietly even he couldn't hear. When he'd gone, she went upstairs and started packing.
"Nicolas, LaCroix had little choice. If he had not helped Maura he is certain she would have gone to someone less… disciplined. She would have brought the Enforcers down on all of us, and herself. This was the lesser of many evils."
Nick sat with Janette in her special, separate chamber. He was so distraught when he'd arrived at Raven she immediately hurried him into the back rooms.
"But Janette, she's become someone I don't know. How could one death have driven someone like her to such despicable acts?"
Janette smiled wryly. "'Despicable' cheri? As despicable as seducing to kill, winning confidence in order to betray it, reveling in the power to do so?" She was not only referring to Kevin Mitchell and he knew it.
"But I've left that behind."
"And so, it appears, has she, but for this obvious lapse."
"Lapse?" His dumfounded countenance seemed to annoy Janette.
"Oh, Nicolas, how quickly you have learned to be self righteous. This killing pales in comparison to our most languid pastimes of years gone by. It cannot be simply the death of a lower-caste killer that upsets you so." No response. "Could it be that you have discovered your loving Maura as capable of 'unforgivable sins' as you have been?"
"She lied to me, Janette, she shared none of this as I tried so hard to help her recover from her loss. All the time she was planning to use our nature to her own ends."
"And how many times have we done such a thing? Don't bother to answer, cheri, I know you have left it far behind. But how many times have you kept the most important things from Maura, have hurt her, nearly caused her death?"
He didn't look ashamed. "I know, I know, and she's forgiven me all of my trespasses."
Janette shook her head. "Oh no, cheri, it is not forgiveness. It is acceptance of what can't be undone. That we are all capable of darker acts than anyone would care to admit, especially those who love us. If such things exist in you, and we know they do, then how can you believe they cannot exist in others? How can you reject another for sharing you own weaknesses?"
Nick reacted with confusion. "Reject? You think I'm going to reject her? Janette, what I'm struggling with here isn't what to do next, it's how to adapt to the existence of this side of Maura I've never considered. She's done something I can never accept, but you're right there is no undoing it, and no chance to convince her it should be. I have to absorb this new knowledge as a part of Maura that can't be ignored or denied, even if it never appears again. It isn't easy to accept this… twisted capability as part of the woman I love."
"She has accepted things in you that no mortal has ever faced willingly, Nicolas. I have no idea how you will 'adapt' to the fact that your Maura is prey to the same dark imperfections you have struggled for so long to abandon. That unlike you she has no regrets must make accepting them that much more difficult. I only know, as you do, that you have no choice but to do so. I am sorry, cheri, I have no other answers for you."
Nick returned late into the night to find Maura sitting quietly in the living room, several packed bags by her side. She appeared to be waiting patiently for his return. "I can get the rest of my stuff moved to the club by the end of the week," she told him. She misread his silence. "Or sooner, I guess, if you want me to." The matter-of-factness of her belief she was no longer welcome in his life brought Nick to the edge of tears.
"Oh no," he murmured, kneeling in front of her. "What's this? You can't think I want you to go."
She blinked, confused. "But what I did, I lied to you, I betrayed you. I used our connection in the worst way. I've crossed a line, Nick, I know I have. I knew I would, but I made my choice. And I know I've burnt up every reason you had for loving me right alongside Kevin Mitchell."
Nick rested his hands on her knees, stared into her eyes. "No, no, how can you imagine that? How many lines have I crossed, Sweet, how many lies did I tell before I learned better? Haven't you been willing to believe there's more to me than my mistakes? How many times have you accused me of not believing in you, but you can decide that this is what I want?" He gestured toward her packed things and when she didn't answer he reached his hands out to surround her face, and brought his own to rest against her cheek.
"How many times have I said 'I love you', do you think?"
"Hundreds…" she murmured, "thousands?"
He drew back a few inches to look in her eyes again. "Then which of those words didn't you understand? What did you hear that I didn't say? I-love-you, that's all, there's no 'in spite of', or 'until', or 'but'. I could no more want you to leave because of this than I could survive a stake through the heart. Okay, I admit it's gonna be very hard to reconcile what you've done with the Maura I'd decided you were. But not impossible. It's me that will have to adapt, not you. I wish I could change your mind about what you've done, but I know I can't. If it's a thing we will never agree on, so be it. There's bound to be a way to live with that."
Maura was struggling to absorb all this. She could see no parallel with his several transgressions in their time together; his were sins of omission, of ignorance. Hers was planned to the last detail, gone into with eyes wide open. With one act Maura had negated everything about herself that she felt Nick had ever seen in her, but he was saying it would be okay? "How can you possibly stand to even look at me after what I've done? How can you possibly love me?" They were rhetorical questions, because she couldn't imagine any answers that would make sense.
Nick stood and held his hands out to her. "How could I not? There's no logic here, Sweet. Just me. And I love you, and only death can stop me." He shrugged, a bit sheepish. "Not even that." He remembered what Natalie had told him, that grief can drive a person to crazy things. Maybe that was how he'd think of this in time. Temporary, grief-induced insanity.
"Come on, Maura," he coaxed her as she sat staring up at him. "Why throw away what we've got because of what we lost." Illusions, innocence, whatever. It just wasn't enough to make him turn away, and it struck Maura now with ringing clarity as she heard the "grand philosophy" she'd intoned far more than once. She let him take her hands and pull her to her feet, and when she stepped into his embrace there was the unmistakably physical sensation of something cold and sharp being drawn from inside her. She pressed her face into his shoulder with a silent sigh of exhausted relief as he rocked them side to side.
After a moment she muttered, "Poor Bats, I guess I turned out to be less than you bargained for."
She felt his smiling kiss in her hair as his arms tightened around her and he whispered gently in her ear.
"Sssh… you're nobody you shouldn't be."