Barely an hour later the computer's email announcer bleated for attention. Nick had dozed off where he and Maura lay on the floor, so she went to open the message.
"Already?" Nick slurred drowsily from his spot by the fireplace.
"If he wasn't a master, I wouldn't have asked him to help." She printed the message out without getting much past the greeting: It's about time.
She sat on the floor near Nick and paraphrased what she was reading. "'In accordance with your wishes… a village known as 'Peacham Vermont. Not too far from Toronto, but far enough, a very rural area though within reasonable driving distance of the city of Burlington and the capital city of Montpelier. Attached are two available real estate listings… will arrange purchase third party upon request… employment of various kinds available appropriate for Nick's résumé and your own'. Well I should hope so, for yours at least. It covers everything from roof thatching to law enforcement." Maura read further in silence, then paused. Raising an eyebrow she announced without looking at Nick, "According to Aristotle there's something of a catch, regarding U.S. immigration. They've gotten pretty attentive, and added multiple agencies and bureaus. Too many even for him to hack into and alter, it seems. So we'd have to take care of something up here first if it's going to work."
Nick heaved a sigh. He'd hoped this would be relatively simple. Oh well, he supposed most anywhere but Canada would involve immigration issues, and it would probably be wiser to leave the country for awhile. "Okay, what do we have to do to make this happen?"
"Aristotle says there's only one easy way he can 'embed you in the less-complex Canadian system' and make you disappear without INS inquiries." Now she looked at him uncertainly. "You'd have to be married to an American citizen." When he sat up abruptly she added hastily, "Not really, he'd just fake it for the computer. It'd probably make it easier to blend into the middle of nowhere farm country anyway… you think maybe?" Maura had never bothered to deal with Canadian immigration when she'd arrived in Alberta at the tender age of 20. Considering her "alternative lifestyle" there was little chance anyone would bother to ask.
In spite of his exhaustion and inner turmoil, Nick was forced to smile. "You make it sound like life without parole. What do you think? Can you live with the stigma of being presumed to be Mrs. Nicholas Knight?"
"I've lived with the stigma of a lot worse." But her brow furrowed. "Do you think it's smart to keep the same name? Like maybe you should become, I dunno, Nick O'Reilly or Nick Douglas or something?"
"How about 'Nicholas Logue'?" He was grateful to have something, anything, to joke about.
"That's one curse even you couldn't outlive."
"All right then, why not tempt fate and keep the same name twice in a row. You tell Aristotle to go ahead and invent a marriage of convenience."
"Hey, at least my name's already on the checkbook." They'd never altered the legal changes he'd made when he'd abandoned her to travel with LaCroix. Not wanting to appear too cavalier, she waved her left hand to show off the emerald ring she never, ever removed. "And I already have the appropriate jewelry."
"So do I." Nick went upstairs as Maura sat waiting with a puzzled expression. He reappeared moments later with a small, ornately carved wooden box. When he opened it she saw a beautiful gold band engraved with interlocked fleur-de-lis. He removed it from the box and handed it to her. "Why don't you do the honors."
"C'mon, Bats…" but she saw he wasn't kidding. She inspected the ring more closely, and could barely make out an inscription in French wrought in impossibly tiny, elegant script inside the band: devant maintenant, après demain, en mon coeur toujours. She was less than enraptured. "Nick… this is your ring from before. From Alyssa."
He shook his head and smiled gently, understanding. "No, doucette. It was given to me by my mother, who knew it would be saved for the right time."
"But when you married Alyssa… you didn't wear this?"
"When I married Alyssa, I'd forgotten I had it. I was LaCroix' latest fledgling, and lost in my untested powers. So tell me… was Maman right? Is this the right time?"
Maura shrugged reflexively. "Sure, why not?" Then Nick's steady gaze drew a more honest reply, the one he deserved. "Yes. I mean it's not as if we don't know it's forever. It's not as if we even have a choice. Immigration or not, it is what it is." She slid the ring on Nick's left ring finger. "So there you are. I now pronounce you stuck with me."
"I've lived with the stigma of a lot worse."
Of the property listings Aristotle had sent, they decided on a red Cape sitting on ten acres of meadow and woods. In addition to the house there was a large barn with two sets of enormous doors, but what closed the deal was a small, separate artist's studio built much later than the house and barn.
"Nick, just think, a whole space just for your painting! And the house, well we wouldn't even have to redecorate or fix anything, we could just move in."
He was examining the various photos of the rooms in the main house with some hesitancy. "It all looks a little, well, bright." While there was a den paneled in beautiful dark honey pine and the studio was finished in the same wood, the other rooms in the house were painted in lighter colors such as pale sage, yellow, and white. At first glance it was a little jarring.
"Yeah, it is isn't it," Maura leaned over his shoulder to see. "I guess we could change it if you want, sure."
Nick couldn't help but notice the wistfulness in her voice, and saw the look in her eyes as well. She'd been living here surrounded by his dark walls and darker furniture and moody lighting for so long, and had lost so much to darkness even before they'd met. So had he, he had to admit. He swiveled in the chair to look straight at her. "I wouldn't hear of it. Maybe it's time to change more than my… our incarnation." He pointed to an exterior shot. "There's a lot of windows but they're a manageable size, it should be easy for Aristotle to arrange for blinds to fit them."
"But too many for a remote…" Maura noted doubtfully.
"Well maybe it's time to stop pushing buttons, too. Think how much we'll save on batteries."
As if he had to worry about such expenses. Aristotle was set to transfer all necessary funds for the sale from a de Brabant Foundation account direct to the seller's bank, and another sizable chunk to any bank Nick and Maura chose for their new home base. Maura sat down on Nick's lap, suddenly overwhelmed.
"We're really gonna do this. We're going to start a whole new life in a whole new place. " Nick traced light fingers along her cheek and into her hair.
"We are, and this time you get to choose the colors, for everything. You've turned away from the light for me for long enough, Sweet. I think this could be a chance for me to rediscover the kind of existence I used to enjoy. I haven't been able to feel the sunlight in 800 years, but I managed to bring the dark right inside with me. It happened so gradually, I'm not sure I even noticed it." He looked around the loft, realizing that virtually all of the furnishings and possessions were his, and that Maura had only shared them. "Let's make a list of what to take. We don't need to drag all this stuff along. You've got to help me decide what we really want to keep."
"But Nick, this is all yours, your home, your life. I can't just tell you what to leave behind," Maura protested.
He moved her off of his lap and gestured at a random collection of artifacts scattered here and there, all of them things he'd kept with him simply because they'd once been part of lives he no longer led. "So much of this belongs to the past. I need to start making a life that belongs to now. And to both of us. Okay?"
"Okay." She paused and then asked almost shyly, "Can we please keep the sofa? I really like the sofa." So much of their life together had been explored, decided, created there, so many nights slouched together watching TV, reading, sleeping. It would break her heart to leave it.
Nick had to agree. "Of course we can. We can keep whatever you want, whatever will make you happy."
She threw her arms around his neck. "That's easy. You're all I need to make me happy, wherever we go."
He pressed his forehead against hers. "I'd rather not travel quite that light. Now instead of wasting the new moon on lists and plans, why don't we go upstairs and visit another piece of furniture I really like." The gold pulsing in his eyes was impossible to miss and she shivered as he nibbled under her ear.
"Oh, we're gonna keep that too," Maura assured him as he flew them upstairs.
"The bedrooms in that house look smaller than this one," he warned as he laid Maura down on the bed and stretched out to lean over her. "It might not fit."
"So we'll knock out a wall," she muttered impatiently, "you gonna talk all night?"
"In your dreams, mortal." He dropped onto her with a growl.
Just four days after Tracy's death, as Grace was picking up Natalie from the hospital, after calls and arrangements had been made for their destination, after packing was scheduled and storage purchased to await request for delivery, Maura went to Nick as he hung up the phone for the last time. She reached down, unplugged it, and stood to face him.
"I love you, Nicolas 'Your Name Here'." She picked up his left hand and kissed the gold band he wore. "I just thought before we take off for the great wherever… you should know."
"And all along I thought you were in it for the kinky sex."
Lame jokes dulled the pain, for both of them. They'd faxed the lists of what to pack and what to leave behind to the moving company, with instructions to donate appropriate pieces to museums or charities. It was less than an hour to sunrise; it would be at least an eight-hour drive to their new home and everything they were bringing with them was packed in the back seat to leave room for Nick in the trunk of the Caddy. Aside from the clothes, the coolers of blood, and personal items they'd packed for the short term, Maura insisted on bringing only one other thing. Just before they left for the last time, she went to the fireplace and took the silver donut from where it was draped on the corner of the plaque she'd gotten for saving Schanke's life. She dropped the red silk ribbon around her neck and slipped the pendant inside her collar before following Nick to the freight elevator.
Nick didn't risk a final look, holding the elevator door open with his back to the room. He reached a hand out behind him, and Maura took it and held tight. "Let's get outta here," she whispered in his ear, "We're burning moonlight."
The door slid shut behind them, and they moved on.
Across town, Natalie Lambert sat staring at the phone receiver in her hand as it announced for the third time,
"We're sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. No more information is available."
"Natalie, I don't know where they've gone. They didn't tell anyone, they just left."
Grace was trying to calm her friend. Natalie had been injured in the lab and had lost a great deal of blood, in addition to striking her head when she fell. Though nobody else knew it, Nick had carefully sliced Nat's hand and wrist with a sharp knife then bound it tightly in a tourniquet to support the story before bringing her to the ER. The head wound was his fault entirely; in his haste to pull away from her he'd dropped her on the hard floor of the loft. The marks on her throat would disappear by the time the trauma team saw her. She didn't remember what had happened, not for a while anyway. He'd called Grace at home to meet him at the hospital and planted the hypnotic suggestion of what everyone would need to believe, and a bit more.
"Nick said they had to go, that it was just too hard to stay after Tracy was killed, and you know it was only a year ago Schanke died. And Maura lost her best friend just a few weeks ago, and their friend Janette just took off without a trace. He said Maura can't stand her job now, and I don't have to tell you honey that Nick's heart has just gone out of his too. You'll hear from him again, I'm sure you will. You have too much history not to."
Nat tried to focus on Grace's words, but in her head she was saying you have it backwards… we have too much history for him not to disappear for good. She remembered everything that happened that night in the loft, her desperate pleading, the way Nick seemed to finally acknowledge what they could have together. Maura Logue hadn't existed, for either of them. She wasn't proud of that and guessed Nick was even less so, but we all have lengths we'll go to when we see nothing to lose. She wondered vaguely if he'd tell her. Of course he would. He'd told her already, and they'd left together to go away somewhere they could find a distance from all the recent loss and upheaval. And away from the temptation to return to a decision made some time ago, and try to change it. Only this time, "away" did mean moving on. She looked dully at the envelope Grace just handed her.
"I'll leave you alone with that. I'm sorry, Natalie, I don't think anybody wanted it to end up this way. I'll check in later." She hugged her friend and left.
Natalie stared at the expensive cream colored linen paper, her name written in Nick's elegant hand. She took a breath and unfolded the monogrammed stationery inside.
Natalie,
There's nothing I can say after all that's happened that will make sense of it or that can keep this from hurting you. I'd like to believe I've tried very hard to keep from doing that, but have failed so miserably we both know I'd just be lying to myself again.
There's not enough left here for me now to make the difficulty of staying worthwhile for any of us. You've known for some time that the work I do has become empty for me; the cycle of human cruelty is endless and all we've been able to do is clean up after it. And with Tracy gone I've lost even the hope that someone else might accomplish more than Schanke and me, and Captain Cohen, and so many others tried to do. And I think you also know that even our friendship couldn't make up for the pain it's caused you, not after what I did that night. In our confusion and grief we both were willing to trade our present, and even our future, for a past longing we'd already recognized was impossible. I can't risk that happening again.
And yes, all the things that kept Maura anchored here are gone as well. She has lost her deepest friend with Vachon's death. She grieved for Schanke in ways we're still discovering, and without Vachon and Janette both, the Raven no longer feels like the 'home' it became to her when she first arrived in Toronto. I've lost loved ones for centuries and have managed to accommodate their ghosts; for Maura they crowd every corner and knowing I'm the only reason she'd stay to endure them is something I can't ignore.
It's time, Nat. You above all others understand what that means to my kind, and how certain we are when that time has come. I want you to know, I need for you to, that the credit for whatever humanity I've managed to achieve here is yours alone. Mortality is fleeting; humanity endures. There are no words to express what you mean to me, and how you've helped make me whole.
I will not say we won't meet again, but you've taught me to be too honest with myself to promise that we will.
Always,
Nick
Not a word she could argue with, not a space left for debate. She shook her head at the letter as if it were his face, smiling bitterly through her tears.
"Damn you, Nicholas."
devant maintenant, après demain, en mon coeur toujours: before now, after tomorrow, forever in my heart