Title: Disclosures
Fandom: Forever Knight
Characters: Nick, Schanke, Natalie, Janette, Lacroix
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Forever Knight and its characters were created by Barney Cohen and James D. 
Parriott and are copyright to Sony/Tristar. None of the characters in this story belongs to me. I'm 
just borrowing them temporarily. No infringement intended. No profit is being made. 

Special thanks to Amy for beta reading and suggestions.

Timeline: Second season, after "Blood Money"


Disclosures 
by PJ
December 2008


Nick Knight studied the delicate pieces of jewellery, laid out on a velvet cloth in front of him. Picking 
up a ruby necklace, he held it against the lamp to assess the quality of the stones.

"Ah, an excellent taste," the clerk commended his choice. "You will find each stone flawless, sir."

Nodding in agreement, Nick handed the necklace back to the clerk. 
"IÕll take it," he said and reached for his wallet.

"IÕm sure the lady will be pleased," the clerk remarked and placed the necklace into a pouch.

Nick slid him a credit card and signed the receipt.

"ItÕs been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. De Brabant," the clerk said and handed him the 
pouch.

"Thanks for doing overtime because of me," Nick said and turned to go.

"Anytime," the clerk replied and opened the door for him. "Have a nice evening."

Having the pouch safely secured in his pocket, Nick jumped into the Caddy and drove from the 
curb.

* * *

"Hi, Nat, what have you got?" Detective Schanke greeted the coroner as he entered an exclusive 
jewellery store on King Street.

"Hi, Schanke," Natalie replied and looked behind him, quizzically. "WhereÕs your partner?"

"Has the night off," Schanke supplied and surveyed the scene, noting the empty safe, shattered 
showcases and a body on the floor in front of the safe.

Natalie tried not to look too surprised. Usually Nick asked her over for a video date after her shift 
when he had the night off. Turning her focus back to the task at hand, she began, "Looks like a 
classic raid. The victim is Daniel Fouchard, the owner of this place. He was shot in the chest and 
died instantaneously. Time of death, I would estimate roughly about two hours ago."

"What was he doing after hours in his shop?" Schanke asked.

"Dunno. Inventory?" Nat suggested.

"Detective?" an officer called from the counter with the cash desk. "He seems to have stayed for a 
late customer. HereÕs a receipt for a necklace, printed out at 8.30 p.m."

Schanke whistled and reached for the slip of paper, his eyes bulging as he read the sum of the 
transaction.

"Man-oh-man, I wish I could once walk into a shop like this and buy something as fancy for Myra."

Nat looked up from her clipboard. "ItÕs not the amount that counts, Schanke, itÕs the thought."

"Yeah right," he mumbled and copied the name on the receipt into his notebook.
"Well, whoever this N. de Brabant is, heÕs either a witness or a suspect."

Natalie blanched as her clipboard slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor.

"You okay?" Schanke asked, concerned.

"Yeah, IÕm fine," she said quickly and retrieved her clipboard. "Just clumsy."

"Does the name sound familiar to you?" Schanke asked suspiciously.

"No," she snapped and proceeded to sign her preliminary report in order to keep from facing him.

Schanke turned his attention back to the officers on the scene.
"Any security tapes we might use?"

"Already checked that. They shot the camera and took the tape with them."

"Would have been too easy," he mumbled. "Okay folks, letÕs wrap up here..."

* * *

It was already past dawn when Natalie exited the morgue, her nerves tensed to the limit. She had 
tried to call Nick several times, but he had his phone turned off.

As she pulled up at the loft, she gathered from the open shutters that he wasnÕt home. 
Nevertheless, she made the trip upstairs, hoping not to be faced with a pile of ash on the floor.

"Nick?" she called as she stepped out of the elevator.
Out of habit, she reached for the remote and closed the blinds.

Hesitantly, she made her way upstairs to take a cautious peek into his bedroom. But the bed was 
untouched and everything neatly in place.

"Damn you, Nick, where are you?" she muttered.

She returned to her car and drove aimlessly through the streets. With a sinking feeling she finally 
turned onto Duncan Road and stopped at the Raven, seeing the Caddy parked right in front of her.

Trying to ignore the uneasiness in her belly, she climbed out of her car and tried the heavy iron 
door only to find it locked. She pounded against it, but there was no answer.

Frustrated, she returned to her car and headed home.

* * *

An hour before sunset, Natalie was back at the club. This time she found the door unlocked. She 
entered hesitantly and stopped on top of the stairs to get accustomed to the dark.

"WeÕre still closed," a male voice with a thick Hungarian accent spoke from the bar.

"ItÕs okay, Miklos," a sultry female voice said. "Dr. Lambert is a friend."

Natalie turned her gaze to the door that led to JanetteÕs quarters and noticed a slender figure 
approaching the bar. She wore nothing but a robe and a sparkling ruby necklace around her neck. 
Even for someone who had obviously just risen from bed, Janette looked stunning, Natalie thought 
with a hint of envy.

"What can I do for you?" Janette inquired and reached behind the bar to retrieve a bottle and two 
glasses.

"I need to talk to Nick. ItÕs urgent," Natalie replied.

Raising her eyebrows, Janette turned her attention to the direction of her quarters, obviously 
listening.

"HeÕs --- He will be out in a minute," she stated and filled the glasses from the bottle.

As if on cue, Nick appeared from her quarters, freshly showered and fully dressed. He stopped in 
his tracks to the bar as he discovered Natalie, a guilty expression clouding his face.

He approached the bar, accepting the glass from Janette who took her own and retired into her 
quarters.

The hungry look on NickÕs face as his eyes followed her didnÕt escape NatÕs notice. He quickly 
drained his glass and reached for the bottle to refill it.

"I ---" he began.

"ThatÕs not why IÕm here," Nat said quickly, staring at the red liquid in his glass. "Were you 
shopping last night at ŌChez FouchardÕ?"

Nick furrowed his brows. "Yes, why?" he asked, confused.

"Then I guess youÕre in a lot of trouble," Nat said, unable to keep the coldness from her voice. 
"Fouchard was killed last night, the shopÕs been raided. Police found a receipt in the register with 
your name on it. Your real name."
 
Nick stared at her, shock evident on his face.

"I just thought IÕd warn you before you walk into the precinct unprepared," Nat continued. "Your 
partner is looking for an N. de Brabant to bring him in, either as witness or suspect."

"Suspect?" Nick exclaimed upset. "But Fouchard was fine when I left. I didnÕt notice anything 
suspicious. Have you established a time of death yet?"

"Sometime between 8.30 and 10.30."

Nick nodded, frowning slightly. "He would still be alive if he hadnÕt stayed late for me. Or, if I had 
come later, I might have been able to stop the robbery..."

Natalie recognized the guilty tone, but refrained from offering any form of support as she usually 
did. Instead she said, "Well, I donÕt know how you want to get out of this one, Nick." Then she 
turned on her heels and walked to the exit.

"Nat!" Nick called her back. 

Natalie slowed down and tuned back to him. 

"Thanks for the warning."

Nodding, Nat slipped out of the door as the last rays of the sun vanished behind the horizon.
On the way home she turned on the radio for distraction.

"Good evening, boys and girls," the smooth voice of the Nightcrawler filled the interior of her car. 
"What is the greatest pleasure of a father? To see his children joined in happiness. It was about 
time, donÕt you think?"

Letting out a sob, Natalie pulled over at the curb and brushed angrily at the tears that started to 
well up in her eyes.

* * *

Nick entered the bull-pen cautiously, his senses tuned to the various conversations going, in case 
his real name was mentioned.

"Yo, Nick!" Schanke broke into his focus.

"Hi, Schank," he returned the greeting. "Did I miss anything?"

"We got a new case. A raid on a jewellery shop, one body," Schanke informed him and began to fill 
him in on the details.

"Were there any security tapes?" Nick asked in anticipation.

"No, the perp took them," Schanke exclaimed in desperation, missing the flash of relief on NickÕs 
face.

"What about the potential witness?" he asked.

"Suspect is more likely. I ran his name through the databank."

"And?"

"Nothing. Nada! The guy doesnÕt exist, Nick. HeÕs probably used a false name and phoney credit 
card."

"Maybe heÕs just from out of town," Nick shrugged.

"Yeah, but why would a guy enter a shop after hours?"

"Sun allergy?" Nick offered.

"Very funny. I tell you Nick, that guy has dirt up his back."

They were interrupted by the CaptainÕs voice, "Knight, Schanke, in my office."
"Any leads yet?" Cohen inquired after Schanke had taken a seat, while Nick remained standing 
with his back against the door.

"Dayshift interviewed the staff," Schanke replied. "Three of them left when the store closed. They 
didnÕt notice anything suspicious, nor did they know about FouchardÕs appointment after hours. 
One employee had the day off and another is currently on vacation at Lake Louise. We couldnÕt 
identify the guy who bought the necklace yet." 

"Have you spoken to Mrs. Fouchard?" the Captain demanded.

"ThatÕs what we wanted to do next."

"Ask her if she has any photos of the necklace that was bought. Otherwise, check with the 
insurance company. Maybe we can find the person who was to receive it when we put it in the 
paper."

Nick shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent.

* * *

"Cozy," Schanke remarked as he rang the bell of the mansion.

The door was opened by a young woman who stared at them with a slightly shocked expression on 
her face.

"Mrs. Fouchard?" Schanke inquired, showing his badge. 

"I --- IÕm her sister-in-law," the woman replied. "Elise is in the parlour."

Nodding, Nick and Schanke followed her into an elegant room.
"The police want to speak to you," the woman addressed an elegant lady who rose to greet them.

"Mrs. Fouchard? IÕm Detective Schanke and this is Detective Knight," Schanke introduced them. 

"Please, do sit down," she invited them. "Francoise, be so kind and bring some tea for the 
gentlemen."

After Francoise had vanished, Mrs. Fouchard continued, "SheÕs the wife of DanielÕs younger 
brother. IÕm so grateful for her support."

"WeÕre sorry to disturb you at this time, but we need to know if thereÕs anything you could tell us 
that might lead us to your husbandÕs killer," Schanke stated their errand.

"My husband called last night to inform me that he would be late for dinner because he was 
expecting a late customer," Mrs. Fouchard stated in a collected manner.

"Did he say anything else? A description maybe?"

"No," she shook her head. "When he didnÕt return by ten, I grew concerned and called security to 
check on the store."

"Are there any photos available of the necklace and the other items that were stolen?"

Mrs. Fouchard walked over to a desk and pulled a calling card from a folder. "This is the insurance 
company. They have photos of every item on file."

Schanke thanked her and rose to leave.
"Is your brother-in-law in the same business? We might also have a word with him."

"Oh, Robert is currently on the west coast," Mrs. Fouchard explained. "HeÕs doing the acquisition 
for the store and travels most of his time. We expect him back for the funeral, though."

* * *

"Man-oh-man, IÕm beat," Schanke muttered on the way back to the precinct. "At least now we have 
a lead."

"What lead?" Nick asked, casting him a sideways glance.

"We should check FouchardÕs phone log. The guy probably called ahead to arrange the 
appointment," Schanke stated the obvious and glanced with annoyance at his partner. "What is it 
with you lately?"

"What?" Nick snapped.

"You seem so absent lately. I had to do all the talking back in there. ThatÕs not your style."

"You know what, Schanke? YouÕre right. I did let you do all the work so far. Let me handle the call 
to the phone company. They can send the log directly to my computer and you can book off early."

"You would do that for me?" Schanke asked, delighted.

"Sure," Nick shrugged.

* * *

After dropping Schanke off, Nick requested the log of FouchardÕs incoming calls to be sent to his 
computer. His own number stood out to him like a shining beacon. He erased the line and printed 
the log out, putting it in his in-box.

Then he picked up his jacket and left for the morgue. 

* * *

Natalie sat at her desk and looked up as she heard a shuffling noise at the door and saw Nick 
entering hesitantly. She knew he made a deliberate noise so as not to startle her, as if he tried not 
to make a bad situation worse.

"Nat?" he asked probingly.

"HowÕs your case going?" she asked, before he could broach another subject.

"So far IÕve been busy with damage control," he replied sheepishly.

"But you also work on finding the killer?" she said coldly. "Or are you no longer interested in your 
job?"

"Of course!" Nick assured her. He still felt that what happened to Fouchard was his fault. "Nat, itÕs 
not what ---"

Natalie raised her hands. "Please, Nick. I have no claim on your private life. You donÕt have to 
justify to me where you spend your nights off, but would you mind telling me why you used your 
real name?"

Nick looked at her, slightly distressed. He hadnÕt meant for her to find out about his recently 
rekindled relationship with Janette. He was still unaccustomed to it, himself, and he wasnÕt sure 
how long it would last. But he hadnÕt felt this satisfied in years and that did wonders for his control 
around mortals.

It had all started after he had solved the case of Charles DuChampÕs murder. He had spent the day 
at the Raven and Janette had offered graciously to ease his burdens.

"Nick?" Nat roused him from his reverie.

"Sorry, my mind was wandering," he apologized. "People would think me corrupt if I spent more 
than a yearÕs salary on a piece of jewellery."

"So you just pull out one of your other credit cards and all is well? Have you ever thought what 
might happen if people figured out who you are?" Nat snapped.

"I never had any problems until now," Nick said, causing Natalie to wonder how often he did use his 
other credit card.

Seeing her doubtful look, he added, "DonÕt worry, Nat. It will work out fine."

"Oh yeah?" she remarked. "Are you planning on hypnotizing everyone who finds out?"

Nick straightened, refusing to take the bait. He knew she hated it when he resorted to his abilities.
"If I have to," he said and gazed at the clock. "SunÕs coming up. I should go."

Nat stared after him as he left, feeling a slight chill creeping up her back.

* * *

"WhatÕs wrong, chˇri?" Janette asked, licking languidly over the bite marks on NickÕs neck.

"IÕve made quite a mess," Nick replied with a frown.

"Oh Nicolas, why must you always have regrets?" Janette purred.

"I donÕt," he assured her, kissing her wrist reassuringly. "At least not about us. But I never meant to 
hurt Nat. And I guess I have."

"Mon chˇr, you are 800 years old. You must have picked up some knowledge of how to ease a 
womanÕs sorrow."

"It wouldnÕt be fair," he replied with an innocent expression on his face.

Janette let out a sigh before replying, "Ecoute, Nicolas. SheÕs a sensible woman. She knows what 
you are and that she cannot be with you the way she might want."

Nick remained silent a moment, then he said, "I donÕt think she knows that."

Janette gave him a surprised look. "You havenÕt told her?"

"I havenÕt told her everything," Nick admitted with a hint of embarrassment.

"Maybe you should," Janette suggested. "A woman does not like to be kept in the dark, trust me."

Nick bit playfully into JanetteÕs wrist and said in a rough voice, "IÕll think about it."

* * *

It was after sunrise when Nat opened the door to her apartment. She hadnÕt seen Nick all night and 
wondered if he were avoiding her. As she set her bag aside, she stopped in her tracks. Something 
seemed different than usual. Normally she was greeted by a hungry impatient cat when she 
returned this late.

"Sydney?" she asked tentatively and made her way towards the dark living-room. As she peeked 
inside, a light was switched on and she noticed Nick, sitting in her armchair.

"Nick!" she exclaimed, slightly startled.

"Hi," he greeted her. "I didnÕt mean to startle you."

"So you sit here in the dark?" Nat shot back, feeling that her privacy had been imposed on. 

"Sorry for intruding like this. I had wanted to talk to you. I waited in the Caddy, but when the sun 
came up, it was either here or the trunk."

Nat stared at him, trying to come to terms with the idea of having an unexpected house guest for 
the day. With a feeling of dread she concluded, "You are leaving."

"No," Nick emphasized, jumping from his seat. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, considering the mess youÕve made," Nat said, avoiding his gaze. "And thereÕs probably 
nothing that holds you here."

"Yes, there is," Nick objected, looking at her intensely. "Nat, do you have any idea how much you 
mean to me?"

Nat crossed her arms before her chest and looked at him defiantly.
"Frankly, I donÕt know what to think any more, Nick."

Her breath caught as Nick took her face between his hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips.
"I do care about you," he stated. "A lot. And thatÕs why we canÕt be together."

NatÕs eyes shot open as his words pulled her brutally back to reality.
"I donÕt understand," she said, refusing to accept his statement.

Nick circled her until he came to stand behind her. She felt his breath on her neck as he said, "You 
deserve so much more than what I can offer, Natalie."

She tensed as his voice turned rougher and he continued to whisper into her ear, "I long to give 
you pleasure beyond your wildest imagination, but it would come with a price that youÕre not willing 
to pay."

She gasped as she felt his teeth grazing her neck. It was the most sensual thing she had ever 
experienced. With effort she stepped forward out of his reach and whirled around. Her heart 
skipped a beat as she noticed the feral expression on his face. A moment later his features 
softened and his eyes returned to blue. He retreated to his seat on the couch and regarded her 
probingly.

Nat tried to calm the rapid beating of her heart, quite aware that he was able to hear it.

"I --- IÕm sure with some restraint and if we go slowly...," she began.

But Nick shook his head, a sad expression on his face. "No, Nat. Trust me, it is not possible."

"But you wonÕt tell me why," Nat said.

"IsnÕt that obvious?" Nick shot back. "I would kill you!"

"IÕm not ready to believe that," Nat said determined.

"You have no idea what youÕre asking for, Nat."

"I think I have. And IÕm upset that youÕre not even willing to try."

"There is no try," Nick stated. "Not in this case."

"Fine. How very convenient for you," Nat snapped and fled into her bedroom, locking the door 
behind her.

* * *

When Nat ventured out of her room in the evening, Nick had already left. Her anger at his lack of 
confidence had dissipated and given way to worry that he might leave after all. Knowing that this 
was his night off, she drove over to his place. But as she turned onto Gateway, she saw the Caddy 
passing an intersection. She followed on impulse and wasnÕt surprised as Nick steered towards the 
Raven.

She followed at a distance, looking for a suitable place to turn. Nick parked at the curb and got out. 
But instead of going into the club, he walked around his car and opened the passenger door. A 
moment later Janette glided out of the club, dressed in a stylish gown. Only now did Nat notice that 
Nick was dressed equally elegantly. Intrigued she watched as he kissed JanetteÕs hand and closed 
the car door after she had sat down.

Nat followed curiously as Nick started the engine and pulled from the curb. After a short drive he 
turned into the parking lot of the Shore Club. Natalie did so as well and waited until they had 
vanished through the entrance gate.

She heard dance music coming from the deck. Hesitantly she got out of her car and walked over to 
the adjoining pier that offered a view towards the Shore Club.

After screening the crowd she saw them, fused together in a slow dance. With considerable envy 
she observed them admiringly, as they moved in sync to the music, completely absorbed into each 
other.

"A beautiful night, isnÕt it?" a smooth voice interrupted her observation.

Natalie looked up startled, unaware that someone else had been on the pier. Her heart began to 
race as a tall figure stepped out of the shadows. She recognized him immediately.

Lacroix joined her at the railing and gazed across the harbour bay towards the Shore Club.
"ItÕs a night for romance, donÕt you think?" he continued. "Perhaps you would like to dance as well?"

Natalie stared at him as he held out his hand.

"No, thank you," she declined. Lacroix curved his lips into a smile.

"Perhaps youÕd rather be in NicholasÕ arms. I believe the position is currently taken. Tell me, 
Natalie, how does it feel to see him succomb to his nature?"

She looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Nicholas has needs," Lacroix explained, gazing towards the Shore Club. "Needs that you cannot 
fulfill..." Turning back to her, he added with a chuckle, "at least not in your current condition."

Natalie shot him an annoyed glare. "How do you want to know what I can do and what I cannot?"

He raised his eyebrow in amusement. "I believe thatÕs obvious."

When Natalie remained silent, he added, "or perhaps not. Perhaps Nicholas has not been as 
forthcoming regarding certain information as I had believed."

Natalie stared at him intrigued, curious to hear more, yet acutely aware of the danger she placed 
herself in if she remained any longer in the company of this man.

"Would you care for a little enlightment?" Lacroix purred in a tempting voice.

"I donÕt think I require that," Nat stammered. "IÕm not stupid. IÕm a scientist."

"Of course," Lacroix remarked amused. "Tell me, Doctor, do you tend to bite your partner at the 
height of passion?"

NatÕs eyes widened. "I already told Nick that with a little restraint this can be avoided," she stated.

Lacroix broke out into a chuckle.

"What?" Nat asked, annoyed.

"Your naivety is truly refreshing."

How dared he call her naive, she fumed.

"I would gladly give you a demonstration to broaden your horizon," he added much to NatalieÕs 
shock.

"No, thank you," she declined, suppressing a shiver. "IÕm late for work."
She turned to walk back to her car and noticed with increasing discomfort that he was following 
her. As she reached her car and hastily opened the door, he placed his hand on hers.
"It was a pleasure meeting you," he breathed. "If you have questions, you know where to find me."

She nodded and sat down behind the wheel, pulling the door shut instantly. Without looking back, 
she drove towards the morgue, relaxing only when she reached the familiar surroundings of her 
office.

Luckily, her workload was such that she was sufficiently distracted from her recent encounter.

* * *

When she returned to her apartment after sunrise, an odd feeling of dˇja vu overcame her.

Instead of sunlight her living-room was lit by the lamp beside her armchair. Were NickÕs visits 
becoming a habit, she wondered. At least he didnÕt wait for her in the dark as on his last visit.

She stepped into the room and froze as she perceived Lacroix reclining in her armchair, legs 
crossed, while Sydney purred comfortably in his lap.

"Good morning," he breathed.

"What are you doing here?" Natalie demanded.

"You seemed in such a hurry this evening. I thought you might want to continue our conversation 
without the pressure of your workload on your schedule. We have all day."

Natalie stared at him. "You do not really expect me to spend the day here with you," she said in 
disbelief.

"ItÕs after sunrise. It would be extremely impolite to throw me out, donÕt you think?"

"You should have considered that before you intruded here," Nat returned. 

"I would hardly call a friendly visit an intrusion. Is it my fault that you arrive after dawn?"

First Nick and now this, Nat thought, annoyed. She was too tired to deal with him.
"Fine, stay if you must," she relented. "I wonÕt!"
Turning on her heels, she stormed from her apartment out into the bright morning sun.

ŌGreatÕ, she thought. Where to now? Grace would probably not mind having her stay the day, but 
how should she explain why she couldnÕt return to her apartment before sunset?

Reluctantly she drove to NickÕs loft. With any luck, he would spend the day at the Raven again. Her 
spirits rose, as she didnÕt see the Caddy parked out in the front.

She punched in the security code and took the elevator upstairs. However, as she pulled the heavy 
door aside, she realized her error. Soft piano music sounded from the stereo and the loft was lit by 
several candles, casting a warm glow on the couple that swayed slowly to the music.

NatalieÕs heart began to race as she noticed that Nick had his mouth poised at JanetteÕs shoulder, 
who was obviously not bothered by the two lines of blood that ran down her skin.

She covered her mouth with her hand and was about to stumble backwards into the elevator, when 
Nick raised his head and fixed her with an amber stare. Janette turned in his arms and regarded 
her curiously.

"Nat?" he asked, sounding oddly hoarse around his fangs.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you werenÕt home," Nat stammered. "IÕm just leaving."

"Nat, wait," he called her back and she watched in fascination as his fangs retracted and his eyes 
changed to blue. "WhatÕs wrong?"

"Lacroix is at my apartment," she blurted.

"What?" he gasped.

"I came home late and found him in the living-room. He refused to leave since the sun was up."

"What did he want?" Nick demanded.

"I didnÕt wait to find out," Nat shrugged, deciding not to mention her previous encounter with him at 
the pier. "IÕm sorry for intruding like that, but I didnÕt know where else to go."

"ItÕs all right, Natalie," Janette said softly and moved towards the stairs, climbing them gracefully. 
Natalie noticed that the bite on her shoulder had already healed and she wondered what had 
prompted Nick to bite her.

"YouÕre welcome to stay here," Nick said and retrieved a comforter from a drawer.

"Thanks," Nat said and moved towards the couch. "I feel awful. I didnÕt want to disturb anything," 
she apologized.

"You didnÕt," Nick said, which didnÕt sound very convincing to NatalieÕs ears.

"Did I see right that you bit her? Would you mind telling me why? Have you run out of food?" 
Natalie asked, unable to suppress her curiosity.

Nick tensed imperceptibly. "I do mind," he replied and turned towards the stairs. "Good night," he 
added before vanishing into his bedroom.

Nat stared at the closed door, feeling like an outcast. Wrapping the comforter around her, she 
stretched out on the couch and strained her ears. But the loft remained in eerie silence. Finally she 
relaxed and drifted into sleep.

* * *

Nat woke from a low murmured conversation that was going on in front of the lift. It sounded like 
French, but she couldnÕt make out the words. As she sat up on the couch, she saw Janette 
disappearing into the lift, after giving Nick a lingering kiss on the lips.

"Is it dark?" she asked, feeling slightly groggy after the lift had begun its descend.

Nick nodded and walked towards her with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.
"Did you sleep well?" he inquired.

"Yes, I must have been completely exhausted. Sorry again for dropping in like this," she said and 
accepted the mug from him. "Do you think heÕll be gone by now?"

"IÕll come with you to make sure," Nick said, making a mental point to have a discussion with his 
master.

After Nat had finished her coffee, they took her car to drive back to her apartment.

"HeÕs gone," Nick said before Natalie had even opened the door.

Nat shot him a curious look and stepped into her apartment.

"Sydney?" she called tentatively and found her cat curled up in the armchair that Lacroix had 
occupied earlier. She picked him up and hugged him. "Poor Sydney, did you have to spend the day 
in such unpleasant company?"

"IÕll talk to Lacroix and make sure he doesnÕt bother you again," Nick said and turned to go.

"Thanks, Nick," Nat said gratefully and closed the door behind him.

She went into her bedroom to change for work and stopped dead in her tracks, staring at her bed. 
Although nothing was in disarray, the linens were arranged differently than she used to leave them. 
"He wouldnÕt...," she exclaimed.

Bending down, she sniffed at her pillow. A definitely masculine scent emanated from it.
"How could he!" she exclaimed upset and stripped the pillow and linens from their covers, dumping 
everything into her washer.

* * *

"Good evening, Nicholas. IÕve been expecting you," Lacroix greeted his son as Nick entered the 
sound booth.

"The fact that I spend time with Janette does not mean that Natalie is free game!" Nick stated, 
coming directly to the point.

Lacroix regarded him amused over tented fingers.

"Are you sure that you wish to satisfy both ladies? Dr. Lambert seems terribly neglected in that 
regard."

"I want you to stop bothering her," Nick declared, ignoring his remark. "ItÕs bad enough that she 
found out about Janette. She does not need you to make things worse."

"Are you so familiar with her needs? I got the impression that you left her rather in the dark about 
certain topics."

"I told her all she needed to know," Nick stated petulantly. "Do I have your word that you will stop 
bothering her?"

Lacroix gazed at him over steepled fingers.
"And what exactly does your definition of bothering include?" he inquired.

"You will stop pursuing her or dropping by her apartment," Nick clarified.

Lacroix regarded him a moment longer as if expecting more.
"Very well," he conceded. "You have my word that I wonÕt drop by her apartment or pursue her."

Nick nodded, pleased with the victory he had achieved. As he turned to go, he missed the amused 
expression that flashed over LacroixÕs face.

After Nick had left the sound booth, Lacroix switched on the mike.
"Good evening, boys and girls. The Nightcrawler is on the air, offering answers to questions you 
dare not ask your father, your mother, or your closest friend. Perhaps youÕre not even aware of the 
delicate nature of your queries. Yet your scientific mind craves the knowledge, unaware of the 
sensitivity of the subject. This is the age of enlightment, mes amis. So come to me and let the 
Nightcrawler satisfy your curiosity..."

* * *

Natalie sat in her lab, staring at the radio.
What an odd coincidence. Certainly he wasnÕt talking to her. She knew he used to talk to Nick in his 
broadcasts. Why should he change his preference all of a sudden? And yet, the offer was tempting, 
especially after NickÕs refusal to dwell on the subject any longer.

* * *

When Nick returned to the precinct, he found an envelope, adressed to him, on his desk. He 
opened it and stared in shock at a couple of photographs showing him in the jewellery store with 
the ruby necklace in his hands. Whoever had taken the tapes, recognized him and made 
screenshots from the material. Among the photos he found a note:

"We suggest a deal, Detective. The necklace in return for our secrecy. You will leave your car with 
the top down and the necklace on the passenger seat in the centre of the West End Mall car park 
Sunday at 10 a.m. Should you ignore our instructions, we will inform the media that youÕre not what 
you appear to be."

"Nick? WhatÕs the matter?" Schanke asked.

NickÕs head shot up and he quickly shoved the photos back into the envelope.
"Nothing," he quipped.

"What have you got there?" Schanke inquired, nodding at the envelope.

"Nothing, just a report that came back, Nick said evasively, hiding the envelope in his pocket.

Schanke regarded him suspiciously.
"Nick, when was the last time you wrote a report? If I recall, I wrote them all during the last couple 
of weeks, while you booked off early.

Nick looked at him guiltily. In his zeal to meet with Janette, he had always been eager to depart.
"I promise to do better, Schanke," he said.

"Fine. Then you can start by signing these," Schanke beamed and shoved a pile of folders over to 
NickÕs desk.

"What are these?" Nick asked nonplussed.

"The reports I wrote last night while you enjoyed your time off," Schanke stated.

Nick grimaced and picked up his pen.
He opened the first folder, scanned the contents and set his name next to SchankeÕs on the bottom 
line.

"Satisfied?" he asked half an hour later and shoved the pile back to his partner.

"Good boy," Schanke replied and looked up startled as Nick reached for his coat. "Where are you 
going?"

"ThereÕs something I need to check out," he said and was gone before Schanke could object.

Shaking his head, he retrieved his stamp and opened the first folder to stamp the date beside their 
signatures. Something in NickÕs signature made him stop. He had signed ŌN. KnightÕ as usual. He 
had seen it often enough. But now something struck him as oddly familiar. 

He opened the folder from their recent case and pulled out the evidence bag that contained the 
receipt they had found in the jewellerÕs cash desk. Although the name was different, the 
handwriting looked suspiciously similar. The first inital was almost an exact match as was the style 
of the last letter ŌtÕ in Knight and Brabant. Both signatures featured the same fluent script Schanke 
had always found a bit too elegant for a cop.

What the hell was going on here, he wondered. Was Nick somehow involved in the case? His odd 
behaviour suggested it. Schanke leafed through the folder until he found the printed telephone log. 
Studying it, he didnÕt find a familiar number. Then he recalled how eager Nick had been to handle 
the call to the phone company. Compared with his recent lack of activity concerning such 
trivialities, it struck him as odd that he had insisted on making the call.

He picked up his receiver and called the phone company himself, requesting another copy of the 
phone log.
A few minutes later, he had a second copy in front of him and compared the numbers. With an 
uneasy feeling in his guts, he circled a very familiar number that was missing on the print-out that 
Nick had requested. What on earth had his partner gotten himself into? And what was he supposed 
to do?

* * *

Nick sat at his kitchen table, a glass and a half empty bottle of blood beside him, and stared at the 
photographs laid out in front of him. 
How much did they really know, he wondered. Had they chosen daytime because they knew heÕd 
be unable to stay close by?

"Nicolas...," JanetteÕs voice purred from the balcony and pulled him out of his reverie. The next 
instant she was beside him and complained, "IÕve been waiting at the club and now itÕs nearly 
dawn."

Nick looked up and took in her attire. She wore a black leather dress that clung to her slender 
figure like a glove. Her neck was decorated with the ruby necklace, which made him groan.

"Janette, I asked you not to wear it in public as long as this case isnÕt closed."

"Mon chˇr, you can hardly call a flight from the club to your loft public. I highly doubt that anyone 
saw me. What has you so worked up?"

"IÕm in trouble, Janette," Nick sighed and pointed at the photos.

Janette regarded them briefly and mirrored his sigh. "So many burdens again, chˇri?" Purching on 
his lap, she added in a sultry voice, "Let me see what I can do to ease them..."

Unable to resist, Nick pulled her close and captured her lips in a slow, breathtaking kiss.

* * *

The startling noise of the elevator door put a sudden end to their increasing passion.

"Nick?" Schanke asked as he stepped out of the lift, his eyes bulging as he saw his uptight partner 
engaged in a more than friendly kiss with the seductively dressed babe in his arms.

"Does none of your friends know how to knock anymore?" Janette complained, pulling away from 
Nick.

"Oh, Janet, hi," Schanke said, recognizing her.

"Please, itÕs Janette," she corrected him, moving from NickÕs lap.

"Schanke, what do you want?" Nick asked, sounding slightly hoarse. To his chagrin he saw that 
Schanke was staring at the necklace Janette was wearing.

"Sorry to interrupt like this, but I think we really should talk. Could you give us a minute, Janette?"

Janette cast an inquiring glance at Nick. When he nodded, she moved gracefully towards the stairs 
and vanished into his bedroom.

Schanke advanced the table hesitantly and took in the photos as well as the wine bottle and the 
glass that Nick emptied hastily.

Pulling out a chair, he sat down and faced him.
"Nick, I donÕt know what kind of trouble youÕve gotten into, but I know that youÕre somehow involved 
in this case."

"What else do you know, Schanke?" Nick demanded, deciding to assess the amount of SchankeÕs 
knowledge first before making him forget.

"YouÕve been in the jewellery store that night. YouÕve tempered with the phone log to hide the 
evidence and I assume youÕre being blackmailed."

Nick looked at him in surprise. "Why do you think that?"

"The way you acted tonight after youÕve seen the envelope," Schanke supplied. "Nick, IÕm your 
partner and your friend. Whatever they hold against you, I can help, but you have to be honest with 
me."

Nick regarded him for a long moment.
"I --- I think I can use your help," he finally admitted and handed him the note he had received.

Schanke scanned it briefly and whistled.
"West End Mall is closed on Sundays until 2 p.m. The place will be deserted, making it difficult to 
watch without being seen."

"I canÕt go out there at 10," Nick stated gloomily.

Schanke studied the photos closer. 
"Damnit, Nick, what were you doing in that store?" he suddenly burst out.

"I didnÕt kill Fouchard, if that was your question," Nick shot back. "I just wanted to buy something."

"You bought the necklace? How? ItÕs worth a yearÕs salary!"

"I know," Nick mumbled.

"You signed the receipt using a different name. Are you somehow involved with this Brabant guy? 
Is Janette?"

There was a long pause before Nick confessed almost inaudibly, "ItÕs my real name."

"What?!" Schanke exclaimed.

"Nicholas de Brabant. The money comes from a family legacy. ItÕs a long story."

Schanke stared at him open-mouthed.
"YouÕre telling me that you can walk into a jewellery store and buy a necklace thatÕs worth a 
fortune?"

Nick nodded cautiously, fearing an assault of questions.

"Wow, I guess I need a drink as well," Schanke said and reached for the bottle. But Nick beat him 
to it and had it out of reach before he could touch it. When Schanke looked at him startled, he 
shrugged, "Let me get a new bottle. That oneÕs already gone stale."

He stood and searched in the cabinet under the sink for something with less hemoglobin content. 
He came back with a bottle of Single Malt.
"Is whisky okay for you?"

Schanke eyed the bottle appreciatively.
"Single Malt? Are you crazy? Of course thatÕs okay."

Smiling in amusement, Nick retrieved two new glasses and poured out.
"Cheers," he said, clinking his glass against SchankeÕs.

Schanke nodded and took a huge gulp, while Nick nipped at his glass before setting it back down.
"Ah, Single Malt... thereÕs nothing quite like it," Schanke exhaled, licking his lips. "Do you have any 
more treasures hidden there?"

"Coffee, among other things," Nick replied.

"Coffee? A treasure? For Nat perhaps," Schanke laughed. Then he lowered his voice. "Apropos 
Nat, does she know about...," he nodded at the closed bedroom door. "I thought you two were..."

"Nat and I are friends," Nick stated hastily. "Nothing more."

Schanke nodded, not convinced that Nat would share this opinion.

"So why the alias? Why the big secrecy?"

"My... family doesnÕt approve of my job," Nick stated, which was the truth for a change.

Schanke regarded the loft with new insight. The piano, the paintings, the many artifacts, the way 
Nick dressed, it all spoke of money and an exquisite taste that required a wealthy background and
upbringing. 

"Brabant..., isnÕt that a royal name in Belgium?" Schanke mused, watching his partner curiously. 
"There was a special on European royalties on the history channel recently. Myra taped it all."

"It is," Nick sighed. "And no, IÕm not related to the king. At least not first degree. That lineage 
separated centuries ago."

That explains something, Schanke thought. On occasion Nick tended to treat others as if they were 
inferior beings to him. He doubted that it was a conscious decision on NickÕs part, but it showed 
from time to time.

Turning his eyes back to the photos on the table, he asked, "And what do you want to do now? 
Hand the necklace over?"

"Certainly not! The ideal solution would be to go along with their proposal, have a package waiting 
for them in the car and arrest them when they try to retrieve it. However, I canÕt do that during the 
day and you said in the open space they would see anybody approaching from afar. I could leave 
the Caddy there before sunrise, but I need you to make the arrest."

"Okay," Schanke agreed.

"Good. Meet me at the Mall one hour before sunrise."
Nick stood and Schanke realized that he was dismissed.

Nick accompanied him to the lift.
"Thanks," he said. "You wonÕt mention anything of our conversation."

There it was again. Schanke felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as he detected the gentle 
threat in NickÕs voice. How he did that was beyond his comprehension. It probably had to do with 
his background. Schanke could only nod and assure him of his secrecy.

Then he stepped into the lift and relaxed only as the lift descended.

* * *

Nick picked up his glass of whisky from the table and added a good portion of blood to it. After 
taking a long draught, he ascended the stairs and entered his bedroom.

"I thought heÕd never leave," Janette remarked. "Not that I want to criticize you, Nicolas, but do you 
think itÕs wise to let him keep his knowledge?"

"I need him to make the arrest," Nick replied and sat down on the bed. "I can always make him 
forget later."

Leaning forward, he gave Janette a lingering kiss. His hand moved over her chin towards her neck 
until he touched her necklace.
"May I borrow this tomorrow?"

"What for?" Janette asked, upset.

"I have to consent to the deal for appearanceÕs sake."

"O, Nicolas," Janette complained. "First you tell me not to wear it in public, now you want to snatch 
it from me entirely?"

"IÕll compensate you for it," he said huskily and began a sensual assault on her skin.

* * *

"And as always, gentle listeners, remember that you can confide in the Nightcrawler. He knows 
your deepest desires anyway. Until tomorrow..."

Natalie sat in her car and listened as Lacroix ended his nightly broadcast. After a brief hesitation 
she switched off the stereo and exited her car. She approached the door to the CERK building and 
went inside. Her heart beat faster as she climbed the stairs that led to the floor where she 
suspected the studio was.

The building seemed deserted at this time of the waning night. She reached the door to the studio 
and peeked inside, astonished to find not even a technician in the ante-room. The bluish light 
coming from the sound booth informed her that someone was still there. Her breath caught as she 
looked through the window and saw Lacroix behind his desk, a glass in front of him. With his 
fingers tented, he gazed at the door as if he were expecting her.

For a moment she questioned the wisdom of her decision to come here, but to retreat now would 
only make things worse. Determined, she stepped into the sound booth and cleared her throat.

"Good evening...," she began.

"Good morning would be more precise," Lacroix corrected her. "To what do I owe the honour of 
your visit, Natalie?"

Nat suppressed a blush at the intimate address. The way her name rolled from his tongue made it 
sound almost like a caress.

"I --- IÕm interested in some answers," she stated.

"Ah," he breathed. "Curiosity. It distorts our judgement and leads us to actions that some might 
consider as bravery and others as folly."

"Well?" Nat prodded, not keen at getting involved into a philosophical reflection when she wanted 
plain answers.

Lacroix cast a glance towards the clock on the wall.
"Dawn will arrive shortly. I suggest we move to a more comfortable place to lead this conversation."

"No, here is fine," Nat objected, causing him to raise an eyebrow. She felt more comfortable in the 
knowledge that he was trapped in this building while she was free to go. It gave her a feeling of 
superiority that enabled her to face him at all.

"As you wish," Lacroix conceded and reached for a bottle to refill his glass. "Please, do sit down."

Natalie took the chair opposite from him and looked at him expectantly.

* * *

Nick sat in the passenger seat of SchankeÕs car, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the sky 
began to lighten. Although he wore his duster, gloves, hat and sunglasses, he felt the heat of the 
approaching sun on his skin.

"You did clear out the trunk, didnÕt you?" he asked Schanke as the urge to seek shelter became 
overwhelming.

"O, please, youÕre not that allergic. This is the western side of the building. Even after sunrise this 
place will be in the shadows until late afternoon."

"But when we follow the perp, IÕm not going to sit here," Nick insisted.

"ItÕs still early morning," Schanke observed and filled a cup from a thermo. "You donÕt want to 
spend hours in my trunk. Here, have some coffee and relax."

"No," Nick declined.

"Whatever," Schanke sighed and emptied the cup himself.

They were parked between dumpsters on the shadowy backside of the Shopping Mall, while the 
Caddy stood about 100 meters away from them on the deserted car park. 

Around 8.30, a truck pulled onto the car park. 
"Do you think itÕs them?" Schanke asked.

"I donÕt think so," Nick shook his head and watched as the truck turned on the car park, about to 
depart again. However, while doing so, a sun beam reflected from the polished trailer surface. Nick 
hissed in pain and covered his cheek where the light beam had left a scorched mark.

"What?" Schanke asked, slightly unnerved by his partnerÕs antics.

"Nothing," Nick replied tersely and removed his hand as the pain lessened.

Schanke regarded him questioningly and furrowed his brows as he noticed the faint red mark on 
NickÕs cheek. He was sure it hadnÕt been there before.

He took another sip from his coffee and looked at Nick again, finding the skin unscathed. Shaking 
his head, he stalked it up to a trick of light.

* * *

"Well?" Natalie asked again as the silence between them stretched out to the point of becoming 
uncomfortable.

"My dear, if you wish to receive answers, you will have to ask questions," Lacroix remarked with a 
hint of amusement in his voice.

Feeling like a silly school girl, Natalie suppressed her growing annoyance and took a calming 
breath.
"Okay. What is it that Nick isnÕt telling me? Why canÕt he be intimate without biting?"

The shadow of a smile crossed LacroixÕs features. 

"It is something no mere mortal can possibly comprehend..."

He casually slid his glass towards Natalie.
"Taste it," he offered.

Nat stared at the glass with repulsion.
"No, thank you," she declined.

With a shrug Lacroix retrieved his glass and took a deliberate sip. 
"What you regard with repulsion is much more than a source of food for us," he stated after setting 
the glass down.

Natalie listened intrigued as he continued, "Besides the necessary nutrients, it provides us with the 
very essence of its owner. We can taste memories, emotions, an entire life when the sample is still 
fresh."

He took another sip from his glass and regarded it rather critically. "This one is already fading. But I 
digress... Now, you probably agree that the purpose of intimacy is to bring the partner to the point 
of ecstasy..."

Natalie swallowed as she felt her cheeks getting hot.

* * *

"There," Nick broke the silence as a motor-bike raced towards the Caddy. The driver stopped 
briefly, reached down to retrieve the package from the seat and sped off again.

"Wait until IÕm in the trunk and follow him!" Nick instructed and opened the door. In a rush he 
rounded the car and climbed into the trunk, breathing out in relief as he was enclosed in darkness. 
Instantly the car was set into motion.

Compared to his Caddy, this trunk was horribly small. He moved into the most comfortable position 
and reached into the pocket of his duster to retrieve a silver flask. After a long draught he restored 
it and tried to focus on the road turnings.

* * *

"Imagine this utmost moment of bliss transferred into taste. Nothing is sweeter than the blood of a 
lover, aroused by passion, Natalie," Lacroix breathed and rose from his seat. Natalie tensed as he 
brushed his finger tips along her arms. Her first impulse was to jump from her seat and flee, but her 
legs felt like jelly, unable to support her.

"It is a delightful art to initiate a gradual arousal in the partner," Lacroix continued. Stepping behind 
her, he brushed her hair aside, exposing the slender column of her neck.

NatalieÕs heart raced as she felt the soft touch of his lips on her skin. To her shock, she found her 
body responding to his advances.

* * *

Schanke followed the biker at high speed, noting that he made his way towards the lake shore. As 
he turned onto another deserted road in the industrial park, he noticed that the biker had opened a 
canister and poured something onto the street. Too late Schanke recognized it as oil. As soon as 
he entered that part of the road, he lost control and bumped sideways into another parked car.

"Damn!" he cursed and jumped from his car. To his shock he saw the biker lighting a match and 
dropping it into the oil puddle. He rushed to the trunk, calling," Nick! Get out of there!"

"No!" came the muffled reply.

"Nick! You will be blown to pieces if you donÕt come out!"

As the trunk opened carefully, Schanke pulled it all the way open and pulled his partner out, 
dragging him away from the car.

A short time later the tank exploded in a loud bang. Schanke lost ground and found himself 
transported through the air by the pressure wave, while his partner clung to him. They crashed 
down near a warehouse. When Schanke checked on Nick, he saw smoke emanating from his skin 
and blisters forming on his cheeks. He must have been hit by some burning pieces, he concluded.

"Get me out of the sun!" Nick screamed in a voice that bordered on terror.

Schanke lifted him under the arms and dragged him into the warehouse. Once in the shadows, 
Nick curled into a fetal position and remained silent. Schanke watched in concern as whisps of 
smoke still emanated from NickÕs entire body as if he was smoldering from the inside. This was 
odd.

"Let me check on your wounds," he said and tried to move NickÕs arm out of the way in order to get 
a better look at his face.

"No, just leave me here," Nick groaned.

"Are you crazy? You belong in a hospital with those burns."

"No!" Nick hissed more forcefully than Schanke would have judged possible in his condition. "No 
hospital, no ambulance."

"But why ---," he cut himself off as he heard a motor-cycle approaching. "ItÕs not over yet," he 
announced and pulled out his gun.

He dragged Nick further into the warehouse and took shelter behind a crate.

* * *

"I can smell your growing arousal, Natalie," Lacroix whispered into her ear. "When I taste the 
reward for my efforts, you will be able to feel the pleasure I find in your blood... It will be the most 
intimate moment you have ever experienced..."

NatalieÕs breath was coming in rags and she moaned low, as she felt his fangs grazing her throat in 
a sensual manner. When her body was on the point of climax, she yearned for his bite, knowing it 
would come soon.

But instead there was a rush of air and she found him on the opposite side of the room. She 
snapped out of her trance, now fully alert to what had almost happened. She touched her neck, 
reassuring herself that it was unscathed. 

"What were you ---," she began, but stopped as she noticed the look on his face.

There was a brief flicker of terror that quickly resolved into concern, mixed with relief, before his 
features resumed his usual neutral expression.

"What is it?" she asked confused. She hadnÕt known that Lacroix was capable of any emotions at 
all.

* * *

The door to the warehouse was slid open and the biker raced at full speed towards them, a gun in 
his hand. Schanke aimed at the tyres and fired. The biker crashed down, but scrambled instantly 
back to his feet and opened fire himself. Schanke ducked behind the crate, while the biker retrieved 
his vehicle and fled from the warehouse.

Schanke breathed a sigh of relief and turned to his partner. In shock, he noticed that blood had 
pooled under him.
"Nick! YouÕve been hit?" he asked in alarm. 

"It just grazed me," Nick replied through clenched teeth and tried to pull himself into a sitting 
position.

"Will you now let me take you to a hospital?" Schanke asked.

"IÕm not going anywhere before the sun sets," Nick refused stubbornly, leaning with his back 
against a crate.

"YouÕll bleed to death if you stay here like this," Schanke pointed out.

Nick shook his head. "Trust me, I wonÕt."

"Let me at least check on the wound and stop the bleeding," Schanke demanded.

Now that more light streamed into the warehouse, Schanke got a better look at Nick. His face 
featured ugly blisters and his shoulder was soaked in blood. There was a bullet hole above his 
heart, which made him wonder how Nick could be alive at all after the injuries he had received.

The way Nick stared at him with a rather hungry expression didnÕt help to calm the increasing 
nervousness that took hold of Schanke. He could have sworn there was an eerie red glow in NickÕs 
eyes, but it vanished as Nick blinked several times.

Nick averted his gaze as Schanke opened his duster and uncovered his shoulder. Schanke stared 
open-mouthed at the gaping wound above NickÕs heart. He pulled him forward and noticed a 
similar hole in his back. The skin was reddened as if he had received a severe sunburn.
"Nick, the bullet didnÕt graze you, it went right through you. How is that possible?"

"I guess I was just lucky," Nick replied hoarsely.

"ItÕs more than that," Schanke said while he pressed his handkerchief on the wound. "ItÕs a miracle 
that youÕre alive."

"ItÕs a curse...," Nick mumbled before passing out.

"Nick! DonÕt die on me now!" Schanke called and touched NickÕs neck. "Damnit!" he cursed as he 
found no pulse.

He pulled out his cell phone, about to call for help, when a gloved hand clasped his wrist. He 
dropped the phone and let out a shriek. 

"No ambulance!" Nick rasped. 

"Jeeez, Nick! I thought you were dead! You had no pulse!"

"You missed it. Call Nat...," he requested and passed out again.

Schanke brushed the sweat from his brow and tried to fight the growing feeling of uneasiness in his 
gut. He picked up his cell phone and dialled NatÕs number.

"Lambert," Nat answered, sounding a bit tense.

"ItÕs me. I have a situation here with Nick. HeÕs badly wounded, but he refuses to let me call an 
ambulance."

"Where are you?" Nat asked quickly.

"In a warehouse at Lake Side Industrial Park."

"IÕll be there in 20 minutes," Nat announced. "Make sure Nick stays out of the sun. And keep your 
distance."

The call ended before Schanke could ask what she meant by that.

* * *

Nat looked up at the man in front of her.
"Do you want to come with me?"

"Out in the sun?" Lacroix replied, raising his eyebrow. "Although the offer is tempting, I have to 
decline."

"Will Nick be alright?" Nat asked.

"His life is not in jeopardy," Lacroix replied smoothly.

"What about SchankeÕs?"

Lacroix shrugged. "That depends on the amount of control my son has regained during the last 
weeks." He walked over to his cabinet and removed a bottle. "You may need this when you treat 
him, Doctor."

Nat took the bottle. "Thanks," she said and hurried from the studio.

* * *

Schanke crouched down opposite from Nick, keeping a close watch over him. At least the bleeding 
had stopped, but he had not stirred since Schanke had made the phone call to Nat.

He couldnÕt remember having ever seen Nick in a state like this. His partner usually seemed 
indestructable, even in the midst of a shooting. Over the years he had come to rely on NickÕs ability 
to manage every situation to their benefit. And now Nick was severely injured and he wouldnÕt let 
him call for an ambulance.

Why?

"Schanke?" NatÕs voice called from the entrance to the warehouse, rousing him from his 
contemplation.

"Over here," he called back and stood to wave her over.

Nat hurried past him and knelt down beside Nick, giving him a once over.
"What happened?" she asked.

"ItÕs a long story. He got shot and must have caught a hit when my car blew up. ThatÕs where the 
burns come from."

Nat shook her head. "ItÕs his allergy. He shouldnÕt be out here."

"You mean his sun allergy is that severe?"

"ItÕs lethal. ThatÕs why he canÕt go into a hospital. They would never allow him to continue his job," 
Nat explained in an effort to do some damage control.

She knew Nick needed blood, but she didnÕt want to give him the bottle in front of Schanke.
Tossing her keys at Schanke, she said, "Can you get my car into the warehouse? We have to get 
him home without exposing him to sunlight."

Nodding, Schanke complied.

Nat pulled the bottle from her bag and opened it. As soon as she held it against NickÕs lips, his 
eyes shot open, staring at her with a hungry red glow. She hoped the bottled blood would distract 
him sufficiently from her own. She held the bottle higher, allowing a steady flow into his mouth. 
Instantly he swallowed, sucking the fluid greedily from the bottle.

When it was empty, he let out a contented sigh and fell into a deep sleep.

Nat hid the empty bottle in her bag and stood to await SchankeÕs return. 
"Help me, get him in the trunk," she said as Schanke got out from the driverÕs side.

Schanke grabbed him by the shoulders while Nat took NickÕs legs. He couldnÕt help but wonder 
about NatalieÕs detached attitude. Nick was severely wounded and Nat seemed to show only 
minimal concern.

* * *

After placing Nick on his bed, Natalie said, "Thanks, Schanke. IÕll take over from here. Go, take my 
car and get some rest."

"Are you sure heÕs going to be alright? He hasnÕt stirred since I called you and it looks as if he isnÕt 
breathing."

"Schanke, trust me. Nick has a very special constitution. He will be alright."

"But shouldnÕt we call a doctor?" he suggested.

"I am a doctor," Nat reminded him, shoving him into the lift.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the elevator descended, Nat grabbed several bottles of blood from the 
fridge and carried them upstairs. Nick still lay in the same position they had left him in. After 
depositing the bottles onto the nightstand, she closed the door silently and returned downstairs.

She fetched a comforter from a drawer and settled onto the couch, hoping to catch some hours of 
sleep. However, as soon as she lay down, her thoughts returned to her confrontation with Lacroix.

How stupid of her to seek him out with hopes of remaining unharmed. If it hadnÕt been for NickÕs 
injury, sheÕd probably be drained by now or worse. How could he simply make his advances on her 
without any resistance on her part? That nerve he had! First occupying her bed and now this. He 
made her so furious!

And yet, she was fascinated by what he had told her about the way vampires experienced the taste 
of blood. She wondered what Nick learned from the cowÕs blood he used to feed on.

* * *

Instead of heading home as Nat had suggested, Schanke drove to the precinct. If he ever wanted 
reimbursement for his car, heÕd better start filing a report now.

As he entered the bullpen, Captain Cohen called him instantly into her office.

"I just finished a discussion with the chief of the fire brigade. They were called to a burning car. The 
wreckage was identified as yours. Would you mind telling me why one of my officers is involved in 
a chase without calling for backup?" 

"Uh, Nick and I had a lead on the jewellery store robbery," Schanke explained. "We were supposed 
to meet an informant and didnÕt expect any trouble. It was obviously a trap."

"WhereÕs your partner now?"

"He caught some burns from the explosion. I brought him to a doctor. IÕm afraid he will be out for a 
couple of days."

"Any idea who is responsible for this?" Cohen asked.

"Not yet, but I got the license plate from the motorbike."

"Then see if you can find the owner. And this time, call for backup before you make the arrest," 
Cohen reprimanded him.

"Sure thing, Captain," he promised and left the office hastily.

* * *

~ Natalie...~

The soft voice calling her name like a caress...

~ Nothing is sweeter than the blood of a lover, aroused by passion...~

Soft lips touched her skin, igniting a fire in her...

~ It will be the most intimate moment you have ever experienced...~

Those words only increased her desire to experience what was promised. She moaned in longing, 
pressing her neck against those incredibly soft lips ---

"Natalie? Nat!"

NatÕs eyes snapped open and her hand shot to her neck.

"Are you all right?" NickÕs voice pulled her completely awake. "You looked like you wanted to 
strangle yourself with that pillow."

Obviously she had fallen asleep after all. Covering her mouth, she recalled the last remnants of her 
dream. Lacroix really was the last person she fancied in an erotic dream.

"Just a nightmare," she mumbled. "Thanks for waking me up." Turning her head, she found him on 
the gallery, leaning against the railing. "How are you?"

"As good as new," he smiled and walked down the stairs. 

Natalie noticed that he was showered and already dressed. It amazed her every time anew that he 
could recover so quickly from injuries.

"WhereÕs Schanke?" Nick asked while he poured himself a glass of blood.

"I sent him home. He saw your injuries, Nick."

Nick nodded mutely and took a sip from his glass. "I know," he said sullenly and picked up the 
remote to open the blinds to the darkening sky.

"Coffee?" he asked Nat with a questioning glance.

"Yes, please," she replied. "I feel slightly groggy."

"IÕm sorry that Schanke had to wake you, but IÕm glad that you came so quickly."

"He didnÕt wake me. I was out running some errands."

The opening of the elevator door interrupted her. A slender figure wearing sunglasses and a black 
leather cape rushed towards Nick.

"Chˇri! IÕve been sick with worry!" 
What followed was a tirade in French uttered too quickly for Natalie to follow.

After a few gentle words in return, Nick freed himself from JanetteÕs embrace and picked a second 
glass from the board. 

"What went wrong?" Janette demanded.

"There was a chase, I was in the trunk and then SchankeÕs car was about to blow up. I had to get 
out."

"And my necklace?" she queried with an ill forboding.

"ItÕs gone," Nick confessed.

"O Nicolas! Why did I consent to give it to you?"

Instead of an indignant look, Nick smiled at her secretively, "DonÕt worry. Now I know who it is. I 
recognized the heartbeat."

"Then get the bastard, Nicolas," Janette hissed.

"I will," Nick promised and grabbed his coat. "But IÕll do it my way."

With a sigh Janette emptied her glass.

"Wait, what about ---," Nat called, but he was already gone.
"I hate it when he does that," she muttered.

* * *
 
SchankeÕs eyebrows shot up in surprise as the result for the license number came in.
"Captain?" he called. When Cohen joined him at his desk, he informed her, "We got a match. The 
motor bike is registered to a Francoise Fouchard."

"As in ---?"

"Daniel Fouchard, the victim, yes. SheÕs his sister-in-law. We met her when we interrogated Mrs. 
Fouchard. ThatÕs how she recognized Nick! Damn!"

"Get a team and make the arrest," Cohen demanded. "Good work, Detective."

* * *

Nick landed on the roof opposite from the Fouchard mansion. A short time later he saw Francoise 
Fouchard stepping out of the door and hailing a cab. Nick followed the car several blocks until it 
stopped in front of a two-storey building. After she had vanished inside, he applied pressure to the 
doorknob until the lock splintered. Slipping inside, he listened for the heartbeat and followed his 
prey into the dimly lit living-room.

Francoise stood in front of a safe, picking up several pieces of jewellery and regarding them with 
awe. After a moment she placed them back into the safe, closed it and restored the painting before 
it to its former position. As she turned around, she gasped upon seeing Nick leaning casually 
against her mantelpiece.

"YouÕre under arrest," he informed her in a low voice.

"You --- you canÕt be real!" she stammered. "I saw the bullet enter your back! You must be a 
delusion!"

Nick caught her gaze and focused on her heartbeat.
"Everything that happened today is merely a figment of your imagination. You have not seen me 
here. When the police arrives, you will confess the robbery and the killing of your brother-in-law."

"I will confess...," Francoise repeated entranced.

"Tell me why you killed him," Nick demanded.

"I did it for Robert. I wanted him to take over the store so that he wouldnÕt be out of town all the 
time. I feel like IÕm not married at all."

Nodding, Nick continued, "You will forget about the ruby necklace and the name Nicholas de 
Brabant has no meaning to you. Now sleep..."

As she sagged in his arms, he became aware of several appproaching heartbeats.
"Freeze! Metro Police!" SchankeÕs voice boomed through the room.

* * *
 
As Schanke had arrived with his team at Francoise FouchardÕs house, he noticed the splintered 
lock at the front door. Drawing his gun, he stepped in cautiously. Hearing voices from the living-
room, he approached and entered just in time to see a man capturing FrancoiseÕs body.

To his utter astonishment, he recognized Nick wearing a look as if heÕd been caught doing 
something forbidden.

"Nick?" he asked in disbelief, looking from him to the girl in his arms. "What happened to her?"

"She fainted," Nick said with an innocent expression and handed her over to the uniformed officers. 
"Take her to the precinct. She confessed."

"Aye, sir," the officer replied and departed with his partner and Francoise.

"How did you know it was her?" Nick asked.

"I ran the license plate through the system. How did you know it was her?"

"I had a hunch. Remember the way she stared at me when we first came to FouchardÕs house? 
She must have recognized me instantly from the tapes."

"Yeah," Schanke confirmed, still baffled to see his partner here. He searched in the dimly lit room 
for a light switch and turned up the light, causing Nick to flinch at the sudden brightness. Schanke 
stared open-mouthed at his unscathed skin.

"Okay, hardly eight hours ago, I dumped you on your bed with severe burns in your face, not to 
mention other injuries. Now youÕre here without a scratch. How?"

Nick looked down to his feet and stated, "You donÕt want to know, Schanke."

"IÕm not imagining this, am I? I need to know whatÕs going on to be sure IÕm not crazy."

"You better forget what happened this morning," Nick said evasively and turned to uncover the 
safe.

"Forget? How can I possibly forget that my car blew up and the department probably wonÕt pay a 
cent!"

"They wonÕt?" Nick asked.

"Because it happened in our free time. I failed to report the chase to dispatch."

"I wouldnÕt worry about reimbursement, Schanke," Nick reassured him and began to move the 
combination lock to the left.

"Do you know the combination?" Schanke asked amazed.

"Ssh," Nick silenced him and listened for the mechanics to click before moving the lock in the other 
direction.

A view minutes later the safe snapped open.

"Sometimes you scare me, Nick," Schanke observed, impressed.

Nick looked at him with a solemn expression.
"You have no idea what it means to be really scared by me, Don."

SchankeÕs heart skipped a beat as he recognized the seriousness in NickÕs voice. He recalled 
several incidents when their suspects had screamed in terror after Nick had arrested them and he 
wondered what Nick was trying to warn him about.

He watched as Nick reached into the safe and fetched the ruby necklace and a video tape.
"Have forensics secure the remaining items," he said. "IÕll take care of these."

Nodding, Schanke pulled out his cell phone and requested a team of forensics. Restoring his 
phone, he turned back to his partner, only to find him gone.

"Nick?" he asked confused. With a sigh he settled onto the couch and waited for the forensic team 
to arrive.

* * *

Nick entered the Raven and made his way to the bar, where Janette was perched on a stool, 
engrossed in a fashion journal. Stepping up behind her, he slipped the necklace onto her neck.

"I believe thatÕs yours," he whispered.

"Oh Nicolas!" she exclaimed in delight.

"The case is solved," he stated. "The killer turned out to be the victimÕs sister-in-law who felt 
neglected by her husband. He travels most of the time on behalf of his job and she thought by 
killing his brother, he would stay in town and take over the store."

"Hmmm," Janette purred and ran a gloved finger playfully down NickÕs chest. "A woman neglected 
because her husband values his job more than her... One could almost sympathize..."

Nick quickly leaned in and kissed her lips. "I think IÕve already proven my priorities...," he mumbled.

"And what about your partner?" Janette inquired after the kiss.

"HeÕs still an unsolved problem," Nick said solemnly.

"Then deal with him, Nicolas. Before he rouses attention."

"IÕm not quite sure I can erase everything. ThereÕre already so many consequences... His car, the 
arrest... I would have to provide him with a new memory concerning every single thread."

"Then tell him the truth," Janette suggested.

Nick looked at her startled. He could only imagine how his partner would recoil from him in horror if 
he told him the truth. It would change everything between them.
"You canÕt be serious. IÕm glad he hasnÕt figured it out yet."

"Ecoute, Nicolas. ThereÕs nothing more dangerous than a curious mortal who knows there are still 
secrets to disclose. The same applies for Dr. Lambert, by the way."

"Nat? Why?" Nick asked.

"I understand that she rushed to help you with a bottle of finest blood ready. She didnÕt get it from 
me."

Nick gaped at her in alarm.
"What are you saying? That she ---"

"When I sensed your distress, I called Lacroix. He said help was on the way. She must have gone 
to him, Nicolas."

"I have to talk to her," Nick said and flew out of the club.

* * *

He made his way silently into the morgue. Finding Natalie in her lab, laying out instruments, he 
approached her from behind. Her hair was wrapped into a bun, leaving her neck accessible. On 
impulse he bent down and placed a soft kiss on her jugular.

"Wh ---" Nat whirled around, a scalpel in her hand. "Oh, itÕs you," she breathed in relief. "Must you 
startle me like this?"

"Did you expect someone else?" Nick asked probingly.

"No," Nat denied with a blush. "But you never know, who might walk in."

"What were you thinking by going to him, Nat?" Nick demanded.

"I wanted answers, Nick," she said in defense. "You refused to give them. He was more elaborate."

"You could have been killed," Nick stated.

"I know. It was stupid in hindsight," she admitted and assured him, "I wonÕt go to him again."
Studying him for a while she added, "Nick, why did you never mention that blood was more than a 
source of food? You withheld essential information I should have taken into consideration for your 
treatment."

"I didnÕt think it mattered," he said.

"But itÕs a fascinating ability. Lacroix said IÕd be able to sense something, too."

"Yes, eight centuries of endless hunger and pain. You would recoil in horror," Nick stated sullenly.

"It would be my decision. And I donÕt think it matters. YouÕre a different person now, Nick, in spite of 
being a vampire. Had I judged you by your past, I wouldnÕt be here with you now."

For emphasis she slashed the scalpel across her inner hand, making a deep cut.

"Taste it," she demanded, holding her hand up under his nose.

Taken completely off guard, Nick stared mesmerized at the blood pooling in her hand.
He grabbed her wrist and raised it to his mouth, lapping carefully at the blood that spilled around 
the wound. When the flow ceased, he raised his head and regarded her with a mixture of longing 
and regret in his gold-flecked eyes.

"Never ever do that in front of me again," he rasped and turned to go. He stopped dead, as he 
discovered Schanke staring at them from the door.

* * *

Schanke had attended the questioning of Francoise Fouchard. Completely confused by FancoiseÕs 
lack of memory regarding certain incidents that involved Nick, he had driven to the morgue to 
return NatalieÕs car and discuss his partner with her who seemed to know him better than anyone 
else.

However, as he neared the lab, he heard raised voices and found Nick and Natalie in a heated 
discussion. Something clicked in his mind as he listened in on them and the entire puzzle 
assembled itself all of a sudden. But the rational part of his brain refused to believe what he was 
hearing. He carefully opened the door and glanced into the lab. He questioned his sanity as he saw 
Nat slicing her hand and offering it to Nick, who didnÕt hesitate to lick it clean.

As Nick turned around, Schanke stared at him open mouthed. There was an odd glow in his eyes 
and his mouth was smeared with blood, which he quickly wiped away.

"How long have you been standing there, Schanke?" Nick inquired in a rough voice, startling him 
from his reverie. 

"Long enough to wonder if I should go to a shrink," Schanke replied.

"You arenÕt going anywhere before we had a talk," Nick said and took him by the sleeve, dragging 
him out of the lab.

Nick hailed a cab and shoved Schanke in the back seat. Then he slid in behind him and gave the 
driver directions to the loft. They passed the drive in silence although Nick was quite aware of 
SchankeÕs probing glances.

* * *

"Ultimate ecstasy? Yeah right," Natalie muttered while wrapping a bandage around her hand. As 
she searched for a tape, she found it handed to her by a black sleeved hand.

"Is something wrong?" Lacroix inquired in a purring voice.

"You said I would be able to sense something. It didnÕt feel any different than when Sydney laps 
milk from my hand. I didnÕt feel a thing," she replied, angry at her own foolishness for believing 
what he said.

"Of course not," Lacroix affirmed, amused. "It has to be drained actively for the connection to be 
made. Allow me..."

He took her hand, but instead of fastening the bandage with tape, he unwrapped it. After critically  
regarding the oozing cut, he closed his lips over it and sucked intensely.

Natalie gasped as she felt her insides turn to jelly. Her breathing quickened and her mouth was 
going dry. After a moment the sensation ceased as Lacroix let go of her hand and replaced the 
bandage expertly.

She stared at him in total shock while trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart.
"That is a fraction of how it feels, Natalie," he breathed.

"A fraction?" she gaped, unable to imagine any increase of what she just felt.

"It will be more intense when the blood is taken from the neck," Lacroix explained smoothly, 
drawing a fingertip along the side of her neck.

Retreating a step from him, Natalie gathered her wits and remarked, "But I didnÕt sense anything 
from you."

"Why should I allow that," he shrugged. "You arenÕt interested in me after all, nÕest-ce pas?"
Burying his hands in his pockets, he strolled out of the lab.

* * *

As they reached the loft, Nick opened the door to the elevator, saying, "After you."

Schanke slid past him, his heartbeat increasing as the lift began its rattling ascend. Unconsciously 
he kept himself in a corner, placing as much distance between them as the space allowed. He 
released a breath as the elevator stopped and Nick preceded him into the loft.

Schanke remained hesitantly by the door, while Nick discarded his jacket and gathered two bottles 
and glasses from the kitchen. Schanke recognized the bottle of Single Malt and made his way to 
the couch where Nick had sat up their beverages. He poured a glass of whiskey and slid it over to 
Schanke. Then he opened the second bottle and filled the other glass.

Schanke noticed the thickness of the red liquid and swallowed. His stomach churned as Nick took 
a deliberate sip.

"YouÕve noticed that IÕm different," Nick began. "Now you know."

"IÕm not quite sure what I know, Nick," Schanke said nervously. "I heard Nat referring to you as a 
vampire and IÕve seen you lick up her blood. But IÕve always thought vampires were mythical 
creatures with fangs who kill people and turn into bats."

Nick cringed at SchankeÕs words.
"I donÕt kill people and I donÕt turn into a bat," he assured him.

Schanke stared again at his glass. 
"But thatÕs blood?"

"From a stockyard," Nick supplied hastily.

"Uh-huh. And thatÕs all you eat?"

"ItÕs all I require. I cannot tolerate mortal food."

"Mortal? But you are... You are not...?"

Nick shook his head. "ThatÕs why the bullet didnÕt kill me. I heal incredibly fast. Sunlight is a 
problem though."

"Weird," Schanke remarked when another thought struck him. "Does that mean you donÕt age?"

Nick shook his head in affirmation.

"How long have you been around?" Schanke asked curiously.

"800 years," Nick supplied.

Schanke stared at him open mouthed.
"Wow, I guess that makes you a genius in history. You know, Jenny has to write this essay about 
the Inquisition. Do you think you could help her with that?"

Nick stared at him astonished. It was obvious that Schanke hadnÕt processed the entire meaning 
yet, or he wouldnÕt let him near his daughter after knowing what he was.

Leaning forward in his seat, he implored, "What you just heard is strictly confidential, Schanke. ItÕs 
essential that you do not mention my existence to anyone. Not to Myra, not to Jenny. Otherwise 
weÕll both be in a lot of trouble." 

"Uh-huh," Schanke mumbled, feeling the hair at the back of his neck rise as he perceived the 
underlying threat in NickÕs tone. 

He reached for his glass and upended it in a large swallow. Nick moved to refill it, but Schanke held 
up his hand. "No, thanks. IÕve got to go. I should catch some sleep before I meet my accountant 
about that car in the morning."

Nick nodded and walked him to the door. "Let me know if thereÕs a problem with reimbursement. I 
was responsible that it blew up in the first place. I owe you a replacement, Schanke."

Schanke relaxed visibly at NickÕs soft tone. "Thanks, Nick."

* * *

Nick stood still rooted in front of the elevator as Janette glided through the skylight. Landing behind 
him, she snaked her arm around his shoulder, pressing herself against him.

"You talked to your friend?" she inquired curiously.

Absently placing a kiss upon the back of her hand, Nick nodded. "I could sense his fear. And he 
hasnÕt even seen my fangs," he sighed.

"Is he going to be a problem?" Janette asked, withdrawing her arm.

Turning to face her, Nick replied. "I trust him. But a frightened cop is a danger to himself. Only time 
will tell if heÕs able to adapt."

"Time is something that we have plenty of, mon chˇr," Janette purred and snaked her arms around 
him once more.

* * *

"Bon soir, mes amis... The Nightcrawler is on the air, offering a little philosophical reflection on the 
meaning of disclosures. Has it never occurred to you that secrets are kept from you for a reason? 
Disclosures rarely happen without consequences. The knowledge confided in you may change 
your life forever. Are you ready to face the consequences, gentle listener? Sometimes itÕs not so 
much the secret in itself, that turns your life upside down, but the person who discloses it to you. 
Strangers turn into confidants, confidants into lovers. It is merely a matter of time until your curiosity 
to experience the full impact of what has been disclosed to you becomes unbearable..."

* * *

Natalie switched the radio off and scratched the faded scar on her hand that was tingling with an 
unnerving intensity.


Fin
 
 
 
 


2
Disclosures