Chapter 5 [Road to Hamilton Airport]

LaCroix reclined back into his seat. He took a draught of blood wine from a glass. Transition followed a well-trodden path. Necessity required consultation with Aristotle or Larry Merlin. He would shed Identity and Role akin to Snake shedding an old skin. A new city…a new role. No ties, no looking back.

Rubbish….

He clenched his fangs. Restraint kept his hand from shattering the glass. Canary with Orange hues glowed in his eyes all the way from the Loft toward the airport. Nicholas runs again. How many times must we pursue this folly! Surely, his so-called friends know I will find him! When I do, I will deal with them. As if the Nun can stop me? Alyce Hunter is too fearful and weak to stand up to me. She will do her duty. Her feelings for Nicholas remain strong. Pity, Nicholas, you do not understand what I do for you. Janette, Alyce, even Nicola…they will care for you. Your own child, Clarise, requires a master's strong hand. If you will not fulfill your role then I will! Anticipation would put him at the terminal in but another ten minutes. Rather than the flight to Chicago, New York or Boston, he'd take care of matters in Quebec City. There, he'd take charge of his coven once and for all. He glanced out the window.

Despite Forecast's promises, Fog concealed road and skies alike. Thickening mist cloaked all from view.

"Mon Dieu! What is this?" Richelieu slapped the van's dashboard. His enhanced vampiric senses couldn't cope with the fog. "LaCroix, I'm going to pull over. I cannot…."

LaCroix frowned. "It seems that old forces conspire against us on this night, Richelieu." He rolled his eyes. "I thought myself past their perfidy long ago." He waited for Richelieu to stop the van. "Stay here."

"Their…?" Incredulity curled Richelieu's lip. "This is magic? I mean witches and their ilk are fairy tales!" Vibrations strummed his senses.

"And how do you suppose the mortal's body disappeared?" LaCroix growled. Patience frayed within him. "Stay here." He stepped out of the van. Experience reminded him of such signs and methods across Gaul and Britannia. Red Specks floated amidst Emerald Sheen in his eyes. "Come out! I can sense your presence. Such games are tedious!" He pressed into the all-obscuring mist. Supernatural Chill raised goosebumps even on his skin.

So they are, Lucius of Pompeii. But then, you and your legions played such games against us as well. We have memories of your ambushes. You assumed our order exterminated. Au contraire! We have survived! And now you are alone.

"Alone? Not hardly!" Chortle escaped LaCroix's mouth and throat. "I know you! You are the voice from the Loft! You will tell me where Nicholas is!"

Oui. You know of me. You ambushed and slaughtered enough of my brothers and sisters, Butcher. My sister's surrender to Nicolas opened my way. I sent Nicolas and her to their place. Should you not be looking out for your companion, Roman? A feminine figure stepped into view. Her long dark hair and flowing emerald robes billowed about on Chill's breeze. Canary glow lit up her eyes. Their glint reflected against a golden necklace with an emerald stone against her chest. Aristocratic bearing held her posture straight and tall. Stolid Expression betrayed nary a trace of emotion.

LaCroix narrowed his eyes. "You?" His senses no longer picked up on Richelieu. He looked about but found nothing of note. Van and possessions were nowhere to be found. "I really have no time for such games, Woman. Bring it back now. I have urgent matters to be looked into. Do so or be forced to do so. I will not ask again."

"You do not order me, Roman." Amusement akin to Cat dealing with Uppity Mouse raised an eyebrow. "My sister and I serve. Nicolas serves despite your interference. Tonight, he is recalled to that service. We heard your diatribe earlier. How small you are. How hopelessly self-centered you are, Lucius of Pompeii. Even now, my sister and fellow immortal deal with your urgent matter. Rest assured. Nicolas de Brabant is no longer your concern." The priestess shrugged. "Your own thoughts betray and indict you. Such protests over obligation! You sound like Mama before they dragged her to the stake! Tsk! I fulfill my obligation to familia and goddess. And you so wish to see obligations honored?"

"You bore me with your meaningless drivel, Thibidoux. I'll kill you. Then, I will stake your sister if I must! Nicholas is mine!" LaCroix zipped toward her. "I SERVE NO ONE BUT MYSELF!"

"Oh vraiment?" Her eyes flashed. "Tum tua dominae!" She pointed at him.

Speed and Intent meant little before the mists. Faster than Cobra, they rose up and enveloped him. Then, they melted away from view.

She exhaled a deep breath. "And so, one matters ends while others begin. Let them find their destinies." Clarise?

Oui, Heloise?

Nicolas and Alyce are free. My goddess saw fit to redirect Lucius of Pompeii to his proper destiny. Let him learn service and humility with one who he betrayed. Heloise perked an ear to the thinning mists. And Nicolas?

Nicolas rests. Alyce drinks the cow blood. We have done all we can. Now, it is in God's hands, Clarise told her sister. Merci beaucoup, Heloise.

Je t'en prie, Clarise. We should all do our duty in such ways. Heloise walked toward a remaining fog patch. She vanished into it for her next destination.

Destiny, it seemed, would not be denied…