The Value of a Life

Chapter 5: Changes

Tracy/Vachon, post Ashes to Ashes, elements of Last Knight. Takes the story a whole new direction from there.

Usual Disclaimers: Not mine, blah blah blah. Like I would treat something of mine like they did!

Rated M

Nick and Natalie fight about their relationship, a new danger presents itself in Toronto, and Tracy takes a stumbling step into her own wild side.

"You lied to me, Nick." Crash. Natalie's budget for this month was definitely going to be shot replacing glass items from the morgue. "You said it couldn't be done. You told me unless I was willing to be brought across, being together was an impossibility for us." Crash. "I want the truth. If you've just been leading me on to work on the cure-"

The last vial had actually made contact. Even Nick's supernatural speed couldn't protect him from Natalie's wrath. "Let me explain--"

"Liar." Crash.

"Nat--wait--!" Natalie froze mid-aim. She looked at the the rack of test tubes in her hand, and suddenly felt defeated. She dropped the tubes, and turned away from Nick, utterly spent.

"Go away, Nick. I don't want to talk to you after all." A single tear left her beautiful eyes and rolled down her nose. She knew now she didn't want the truth. She didn't want to know that Nick didn't love her enough, didn't want her enough. Images of Nick and Janette - ever beautiful, ever perfect vampire Janette, filled her mind, and she knew in her soul she couldn't bear Nick's truth right now.

Nick felt Natalie's pain sear through him. He walked toward her slowly, mindless of the glass he was stepping on. He reached out to stroke her hair, but Natalie's words stopped him. "Touch me and I'll stake you." Tough words from a beaten soul, they couldn't stop him from reaching for her.

"I'll risk it." He loved her hair. It looked like a blanket of the softest chestnut clouds. His fingers sank into the waves, and slowly massaged her neck and scalp. "Nat, can we talk about this? I honestly didn't want to put you at risk."

"Don't give me that crap, Nick. You didn't want me. At least it's out there now. I'll deal with it." Natalie's words were slicing him. Her pain was his own. He'd never felt another's pain so clearly without drinking from them, and then it was too late. It was always too late with him.

"I've never been able to stop, Nat. I don't know how he does it. I wish I could. Do you think I haven't dreamt of being your lover? But I want you to really think about what I'm asking. Would you allow me to drink YOUR BLOOD?" Nick never had the courage to ask the question before. As much as he knew Natalie cared for him, he couldn't face knowing he was repulsive to her.

Natalie replayed the scene she'd witnessed earlier, Vachon drinking from Tracy's wrist, Tracy lost in his need. The heat from them set her afire. "In a minute," she whispered. Nick felt his eyes flare.

"Don't say that, Nat, until you really understand what's at risk. What if I can't stop? What if I taste you and can't--" Nick turned away, the vampire taking over completely. He struggled, fought, and finally tamed the beast within. Just thinking about drinking from Natalie sent him over the edge - if he ever tasted her blood - blood that smelled like the richest spiced wine - he didn't believe he could stop. And Nat would die.

"Tracy didn't die." Natalie's voice held the slightest flavor of hope, laced liberally with suspicion.

"Nat, we can't talk here. Will you come home with me tonight?" Natalie's eyes measured every word. What exactly was he asking her?

"We'll talk, Nat. I'm not like Vachon. We have to talk about this first, ok?"

"Make me believe you at least want this." The challenge in her voice was undeniable, the invitation unrefusable, but she meant every word. Six years had beaten her ego down, and if Nick wanted her to risk anything, he could damn well do some convincing. Nick slowly slid one arm around her waist, and pulled her in suddenly and fiercely. She gasped, feeling his need pressing into her. His hand gently yet urgently swept her hair from her face. He stroked her eyebrows, outlined her lips, then slowly brought his lips to hers.

Slowly, achingly, his tongue sought hers, and at the first taste his fangs descended. Natalie jerked back, then explored them with her tongue, growing weak with the sudden racing of her heart. Nick pulled away, leaving Nat breathless.

"Okay, so tonight..." She looked at him, hating the power he had over her, loving the power he had over her.

"Tonight," he promised, then left to return to his desk and the confrontation he knew was waiting: Tracy. Just how angry was she going to be knowing he'd kept his secret so long, even after Tracy knew about Vachon?

Tracy sat at her desk, working on the paperwork from the Dawkins case. Dawkins was sent to the hospital, pretty beaten up from being slammed up against the wall by a vampire, but he'd survive. She looked up as Nick approached. "So...anything ELSE you haven't told me?"

Nick was relieved. Tracy was obviously in a teasing mood, and not a "let's have a serious talk about alternative lifestyles" mood. He decided to give as he got. "Gee, Trace, you're looking a little - oh - anemic tonight. Better stock up on your red meats...got to keep that blood iron up."

"So how is Natalie, Nick? Oh, by the way, you've got glass on you." She laughed at the sudden look of consternation on his face. Nick's irritation faded, though. to be replaced with genuine concern. "Are you okay, Tracy?" Nick's voice was low, intense. Tracy looked him straight in the eye, wanting him to believe her every word.

"I'm fine, Nick," she promised. "Never better."

Across town, a sniper peered down his scope. "Fucking lemmings," he chuckled under his breath. He set the bait, and they come running.

The scene on the street below came from the movies. An innocent victim of a stabbing bled slowly to death, and an entire squad of so called caring helpers arrive. Police, paramedics, even reporters.

Through the scope, his eyes caught the shining blond hair of handsome young paramedic. Working desperately to save the young woman who's blood was staining the streets, he represented everything the shooter hated.

He knew better than anyone that good was a lie.

He held his breath, squeezed the trigger, and gloried in the chaos below. Killing the first girl was easy, and hardly satisfying. The terror and the screams of an audience were what truly made killing glorious.

He closed his eyes to feel the hum and throb of the terror, then escaped the rooftop before being caught. There was always tomorrow.

Tracy arrived at the church to find the place quiet and empty. Walking through the room Vachon called home, she closed her eyes and replayed all that happened in this somehow comforting empty church.

She glanced at the bed where she'd sat with Vachon as he lay dying from the fever. Her heart clenched as she realized all she could have missed. She moved to the bed, and imagined waiting for Javier naked. She wondered if he'd like that, or if he wanted to undress her. She felt her body going liquid in her imaginings. The coolness of the church disappeared under the heat of her body. She pulled back the sheets to find a small box tucked under her pillow. She looked around, torn between peeking and wanting to wait for him.

She felt the air turn electric, and knew he was near. "Javier?" she called.

"Ha-vee-ay...Ha-vee-ay. Work on it." He laughed. She butchered his name, but he was starting to like it. Kind of like a pet name, but definitely not his own.

"Get over it and come to bed," she demanded, deciding to try her hand at being the aggressor for once.

Vachon studied this new Tracy, playful, cocky, demanding. She reminded him of - well - him. "You don't respect me anymore," he pouted.

She laughed. "Come here, baby, and I'll teach you the meaning of the word respect." He was shocked and loving it. She reached out and pulled him down on the bed with her, instantly wrapping her long long legs around him. "So get to work, Vampire."

Vachon decided enough was enough. He liked the playful Tracy, but she was goading him a little too much. Time to show her who's really in charge. Grinding his hips into hers, she gasped as she felt herself pressed into the mattress. Wrapping his arms under her back, he pulled tightly, arching her back. Using his teeth, he ripped open her blouse and stared at her body, never easing up the pressure of his hips to hers. Kissing a trail of fire between her breasts to her neck, he heard her breathing turn to gasps. "Are you ready for me?" he whispered roughly. "Do you want it now?"

"Yes, Javier, now," she begged, only to feel herself gently let down to the bed.

"Then next time, ask nicely." He got up and walked to the couch.

Tracy lay on the bed, stricken. This wild woman thing was new to her, and she'd obviously done it wrong. She felt waves of humiliation wash over her, and turned away from him, ashamed.

Vachon immediately saw his error. He should have known this game of demand was new to Tracy, and cursed his choice. He thought to stretch it out, to tease back and forth until they couldn't wait any longer. He walked to her side of the bed, and knelt before her. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry --" she stammered, scared and doubting again. "I'm so embarrassed. Don't look at me, ok?"

"Tracy, it was my fault. I was playing the wrong game. It was my fault." He stroked her hair, wondering how he could want her so badly and still see her as such a little girl at times. "I'm sorry, baby. You were just doing so well, I thought to take it further. I read it all wrong."

She nodded, but couldn't talk. Her heart was wide open, and she was so afraid of hurting more. She was confused, too. One minute she was feeling so strong, so sure of herself, and the next minute she's ashamed and scared to death. What power did he have over her?

"Tracy, can we try again? I do want to make love to you, over and over if you'll let me. Every way we can." He tried to reach for her, but she pulled away.

"Maybe not tonight, ok? I'm really tired after last night and today and tonight at work. I'm just not really in the mood." She was talking a mile a minute, and sounded so foolish to her own ears. Vachon's look grew intense.

"Don't make me prove you a liar." He leaned towards her, eyes never leaving hers. He ran a single fingertip along her jawline, down her neck and around the open collar of her torn blouse. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling deeply. "I can smell you, Tracy. I can smell your need. I love the smell of you..."

Tracy was lost, forgetting her shame, who she was. She was his toy, and that suited her fine. She felt like all her life she'd been fighting for control. Now her sole desire was to give up control to him. Here, in this part of their world, he was master.

There was nothing he could ask that she wouldn't do.

"Stand up, Tracy. I want you naked." Hot potent words. She obeyed, she had no choice. Standing, she let him remove her clothes, slowly this time. "Don't ever wear clothes in my bed again. Understood?" His eyes burned into hers, commanding her. She nodded.

"Lay down. Let me look at you." His eyes never left her body as he removed his own clothes. She felt her fever rise as his body was revealed. So hard, so strong, so beautiful. Not even his magnificent body, though, could match his eyes. His eyes held the whip that kept her his willing slave.

"I want all of you tonight, Tracy, everything." He lay over her, sliding his body along the smooth length of her. Wrapping her legs around him once more, he fit himself to her and kept the spell weaving around her soul with his words. "Tell me your dreams, Tracy. Tell me in your blood."

His words alone had taken Tracy to the edge. The sudden thrust of his hips sent her tumbling, and feeling her pleasure he took her blood, stealing her fantasies from the hot apricot wine he had to have. Images of them swirled through his mind as he drank. He drank her every fantasy, her darkest desires. Things she would be afraid to tell him danced in his mind, and the eroticism of her dreams pushed him to the other side. Collapsing on her, turning them both so she lay astride him, he whispered her name while he stroked her back, bringing them both back into themselves. "Don't leave me," she whispered as he started to move.

"I won't."

Holding each other, whispering of their love, Tracy was thinking of the changes she was feeling. Her emotions ran from bliss to shame to exultation in his arms. She was afraid, but never felt more at home than in his bed with Vachon in her body. Maybe it's blood loss, she thought, giggling. Deciding to let go of her fears and live in this moment, in her beautiful vampire's arms, she sat up and looked down at his exquisite face. "I love you."

Javier saw the changes in her, and applauded her courage. Tracy was no quitter. She'd battle her demons down, and grab on to what happiness she could find. No wonder he loved her.

"I've got something for you," he said, surprised at how much it meant to him that she like her gift. He'd seen it a while back, but never thought to buy it for her before last night. Drnking her blood, he learned how much it would mean to her.

"I think your Mary Poppins complex is contagious, Trace. I'm starting to do 'nice' things."

"Give me my present." She dove for the gift under the pillow.

"You've been peeking," he accused, drunk on her enthusiasm. How long had it been since he'd felt so unfettered?

"Can I open it?" He nodded. She tore off the paper, and found a small jeweler's box. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the lid. He'd bought her a special pendant, a heart with a drop of blood tearing from it's tip. In the blood, a ruby was set, making it shimmer like liquid. She opened the pendant, and inside were rose petals.

"They're from our first night." Her breath caught. She read the inscription, 'I love you. JV'. Simple. Eloquent. Everything. She took it out of the box and clasped it around her neck. The pendant shone between her breasts.

"Thank you," she whispered. Laying in his arms, she drank his scent, his love, and slept.

Vachon held Tracy while she dreamed, studying the small cut on his hand.

TBC