Lacroix’s Heart Affair

by Summer

Beta read by Dinah, Mom-Ra

AU MFU slash story cross over with Forever Knight

*Please pre-read Sins of the Father affair (This is a direct sequel to that story)*

Takes place in the mid 1960s

Pairing: Illya/Napoleon, Lacroix/Nick

Takes place three days later at the end of Sin’s of the Father Affair

Part one

She sat quietly in the darkness. Her eyes stared out past the window and into the night. Her thoughts dwelled on one thing. Revenge.

She could still remember how it had all begun. How her hate had been created. A child of seven who watched her beloved father murdered in front of her. Not only murdered but his body drained of his life blood. She could still see how his body lay on the floor. Unmoving, cold and dead.

She had fallen to her knees and wept beside him, begging her father not to leave her. But it was too late. She never cried again, and from that moment on, her very thought was to seek out the man who killed her father and destroy him. However the man who had done the deed was no mere man. He was a vampire, a creature of the night, Lucien LaCroix.

She had plotted for so long and had almost the taste of victory in her grasp when her plans had been turned upside down. Ka-Le, an ancient Vampire, had betrayed her turning her into a vampire intending her to die by the disease she had created. But she lived and with it came the knowledge, that though she now had immortality, her revenge upon Lacroix had been diverted. Damn human mortals, they found a cure to her deadly disease and cured the dying Vampires, thus saving the life of LaCroix.

How did they find a cure so quickly? Who was responsible for disrupting her plans?

Now in hiding, she waited for his arrival. She didn’t have to wait long.

The lone figure knocked softly at her door.

“Enter.”

The short and slightly over weight man stepped into the room. He was nervous and seemed to be looking all around as if expecting to be pounced upon. He was wearing a black leather jacket and it seemed to be hiding something underneath its layers.

“I got the information you wanted.”

“Give it to me.”

“No - not until I get my payment first.”

She smiled and turned to face him. Her eyes blazed in gold. “Oh yes, you must have your payment. . .after I see what you have?”

He paused as if trying to decide what to do. Finally he gave in, and pulled out a large folder in his jacket. Laying it on the nearby desk, he backed away a few steps when she rose and picked it up. She opened the file and quickly read what it contained.

“A blood transfusion? From a man named Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin. . .Who is this man? How could he have had such special blood that it held immunities to my perfect poison?”

The little man licked his lips and smiled lightly at the woman.

“I know of him my lady.”

She looked up at him, her eyebrow raised slightly. “You know of this man?”

“He’s Russian, a Russian agent working for the UNCLE.”

“Russian? He wouldn‘t happen to be a partner of Napoleon Solo?”

“Yes, I read his file when I was working in the archive records room. . .before they fired me for incompetence. . .they thought I had sold out some of there secrets. . .of course I did but only for the right price.”

“And?”

“He was an orphan, apparently his family was killed when he was young. He was raised by the KGB.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it is also stated in his personal files for Waverly’s eyes only, that his Mother was a survivor of a concentration camp in World War 2.”

She was just about to put the folder down when she heard the man’s last statement.

“What concentration camp?”

“I am not sure. . . she appeared to be the only one that had escaped the camp alive. I believe it was called Neningar.”

She turned away, her eyes widening at this knowledge. “Of course, how stupid of me. So, one did survive and gave birth to a child with special immunities. . .excellent.”

“If you will pay me, I will personally find him and kill this Kuryakin for you. . .after of course I played with him a little. . .I saw him once on the UNCLE shooting range. . .he has quite the body. So lithe like a panther-exquisite.”

She faced the little man and could see the lust fill his eyes. She smiled, laughing lightly.

“I am sure you would have a great deal of fun with him. But no. You have done enough. You may go now.”

The man paused, waiting. “What about my payment? My money. You promised me ten thousand dollars American.”

She moved slowly towards him, smiling, with a devilish grin in her eyes.

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. . .your payment. Here my dear little man. . .here is your PAYMENT! Hisss!” She lunged forward grabbing him by the shoulders. Before he could scream she had bitten savagely into his neck. He was soon drained of his life blood. She let his body fall to the floor with his eyes still staring in horror up at her.

She walked away and returned to the window, to stare out into the darkness. She would have her revenge, Lacroix must die! But with this new knowledge she could once again attempt to make her father’s dream come true, and in essence, he would live again. If she could find this Kuryakin she could complete her father’s work. Oh yes, A race above all others. The Master race!

Smiling, Helen Kempacuff started to laugh.

***

He drank deep into his glass of red blood. It was not the same as the thrill of the chase and the hunt but nowaday’s the Vampire knew, that as modern times had come, so with it came changes.

He frowned and sat back on his satin black couch and recalled the good old days. Days when one could sink their fangs into a deep pliable neck of flesh and drink to one’s heart’s content. Those days, of course, were gone.

Now was a time, that it was just too dangerous. Too many clever humans who could easily stumble upon the dark world. It would endanger the existence of the Community and so taking the lifeblood of a human being was vastly becoming extinct.

Oh, he still drank human blood, but now he was given a specialized stock, sent to him by care delivery of a medical top secret hospital, where the donors gave a pint or two of blood and then moved on with their every day lives.

It was just so disconcerting. The thrill of the pursuit was gone, and to Lucien Lacroix life just wasn’t the same. Not only had the chase ended but also his most precious child no longer desired his companionship. He was, in essence, alone. Most disheartening. If he was mortal he would have drowned himself in sorrows and alcohol but he was not. He was a Vampire and he refused to surrender to despair. No, he was a determined man, and he would never give up on what he believed was his personal property.

He had learned several new things this past week. One, that his past sometimes caught up to him, revealing old and unknown enemies who tried to rise up and annihilate him. Which failed, naturally and second, that he wanted his children back. Not just Nicholas. Oh, his beloved Nicholas, but also the other. The one who had been kept from him. The boy would be in is late twenties. If his calculations were correct, and they were, he had already missed out on a third of his biological son’s life.

Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin was his biological son. The blond Russian whom Nick had a passing fling with for the past eight months. A Russian who had been used in an experiment, trying to create a master race, in the days of World War two. Days when LaCroix had been caught up in the moment and had been temporarily fascinated with the idea of producing a child from a Vampire.

LaCroix didn’t have many interests and he had his own personal reasons to dabble with science. He had been curious, and a tad bored. Lonely. . . but he would not openly admit that not even to himself. In the process, he had been working along side human mortals and this interest led to his downfall and his capture. He had been incarcerated for several months. Forced to be used as an experimental subject, while twenty-one mortal women were impregnated with a special genetically made hybrid formula from his own blood.

The dream ended abruptly and LaCroix returned to his freedom learning one grave lesson. Never trust a mortal. He had truly believed that all the women had been killed, but oh what a delight to learn that one survived. One who bore a child. A mortal boy who grew up and, by chance or destiny, was thrown directly into his father’s path. How amusing.

LaCroix heard the chiming of the clock. It was midnight. The old man should be arriving shortly.

As always, Alexander Waverly, the head of section one of UNCLE in New York, was prompt and stepped into the room. He was dressed in a dapper, three piece suit. In his hand he held a black cane with a gold figure of a wolf on the tip of it. Seeing the man LaCroix rose and went to offer him a drink from his stock but the old man simply took off his hat, shook his head and sat down.

“Alexander, It has been a while. Twenty years?”

“It has been four hundred years Lucien.”

LaCroix returned to his seat avoiding the old man’s stare and with a new glass filled with his favorite type of blood A positive. He took a tentative sip.

“You asked to see me. What can I do for The Vampire who rules more then all of North America, with great power at his hand, with his army of Enforcers? Who could turn this nation of mortals over in its grave if he so desired? You really do have a sickening desire to live among the mortals. Not only to be with them but to pretend to be one of them.”

“Your spite is showing Lucien. I am not here to discuss my work but if you need to hear it once more, I will be glad to inform you that working with human mortals does have its high points and has more passion then any Vampire I have associated with in the past. . .including you.” Waverly didn’t hide his snide jibe of sarcasm at LaCroix.

“Oh yes, always an eager mortal agent who would be more then willing to allow you a few drops of its blood for your esteem.” LaCroix spat back, with his temper starting to flare up.

“Four hundred years and you still have the mood of a cobra. Always spitting and ready to fight. When will you lay down your sword Lucien?”

“Never.”

“A pity, your moods and temper has caused you much grief.”

“Now who is sticking his nose in where it does not belong?” Lucien looked back in annoyance.

Waverly only laughed and shrugged. “You have caused your own pain and misery Lucien. Do not blame others for it and don’t take it out on those that live in happiness and peace. You, and you alone, are the blame for your folly.”

“You really are a bore, old man.”

“You are just upset because I predate you by a thousand years.” Waverly always enjoyed sparring with LaCroix. To pull on his chain and see just when the fangs would come out.

“Yes and for all that life expectancy you still search for ways to bring Mortals and Vampires together in serene union. How pathetic. Mortals are merely our food. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“You were once mortal Lucien.”

“Really? I don’t remember that.”

“I do, and unlike others, I know of how you were brought across. You have made it your life to be destructive and lacking mercy for all others because you murdered your own flesh and blood daughter who became a vampire and brought you across as her creation.”

Lucien growled angrily and threw his now empty glass into the nearby wall. He rose to his feet, and turned to Waverly, preparing to fight. But when he saw the cold eyes looking back at him, and the truth within them, he turned away. Even now he could still see his beautiful little girl looking at him. So small, so fragile, the love of his life. He would have given everything to her. Everything but one thing. As it destroyed her, it also destroyed him.

“It took you a long time to move on with that knowledge and then you finally started again with a perfectly selected family. The only family a Vampire can have. Janette was a lovely choice. And Nicholas. . . ah, such a prize. For a time you were happy weren’t you Lucien?”

He didn’t reply.

“And then you had to terminate that. Now you are alone.”

“Shut up old man.”

“The truth hurts doesn’t it, LaCroix?”

“Hurt? How ridiculous. Pain is only caused if one has a heart. I lost mine a long time ago.”

“Yes, when you beheaded your own daughter-Master.”

LaCroix closed his eyes, and going to the nearby fireplace, he glance into the deep flames. The fire reminded him of her hair, flesh, passion. For a moment he could almost see her once more within the flames. Smiling at him. So full of life, so full of energy, so full of evil!

“No matter what you think, LaCroix, you did what was necessary. You always accuse Nicholas of his sickening emotion of guilt. But you too suffer greatly with the guilt of murder. Because of it, it has followed you through out time. What has it caused you? The loss of Nicholas. That is why he left you. Oh, Nicholas will deny it and say that it’s because he wants to be independent and free of you. To embrace the sunlight once more. We all know that its because you are in capable of keeping and maintaining a family. You refuse to allow them, your children, to know that you love them.”

“Enough!” Lucien turned to Waverly, his eyes aflame with rage.

“No! It is not enough, If you had learned the lesson of bending a little, Nicholas, wouldn’t be where he is now. He would not be seeking mortality and the search for his humanity. All you had to do was tell him the truth that you loved him. Purely and with conviction. But oh no, the Great Lucien LaCroix is not capable of love. Stop blaming the mortals and the world and GOD for all your problems. Straighten out your life LaCroix. What ever is left of it that is. Maybe then you might find the light at the end of the tunnel.”

Lucien went to attack, but Waverly had already moved. He came behind LaCroix and slammed him down onto the couch.

Weary, LaCroix waited, staring, seething at him.

Waverly paced the room and regained his calm. He turned back to his fellow Vampire.

“Stop dancing around the issue Alexander. You have pushed yourself into my affairs! You have taken Nicholas, promising his mortality! To let him die! A cure for his disease!”

“Nicholas will never find his cure. Do you honestly believe that I would permit the death of Nicholas de Brabant? If I had wanted him dead, I would have had my enforcers kill him long ago.”

“So why did you promise him-?”

“A way? Because he has potential and he needs to repent for his sins that he believes exist. No matter how many times you tell him, Nicholas, will always feel guilt for the deaths he has caused. I give him a way to deal with that guilt. By making a difference.”

“I see, and you had no intention of-?”

“No Lucien, But Nicholas needs to cling to his hope. Hope that you tried to crush. Don’t you see. . . if you hold too tightly they will only slip through your fingers and fly away. To have them stay, you must let them be who they are. Accept that part of them, even if you don’t agree. You do have a heart LaCroix. You’re just not sure where it is and how to find it.”

“Damn you!”

‘Perhaps. But I have learned to live and deal with who I am and of my past. I know where I’m going. Do you, Lucien? Do you know where you’re going? All you see is what you want but not what you need.”

“Enough with this talk. You have caused me great injury.”

“Have I?”

“You have something that belongs to me and I want him back.”

“If you want Nicholas back, LaCroix, then that is something that you.-”

“NO! Illya Kuryakin. My Son, my flesh and blood! You have known for how long about his existence?”

“Ten years.”

“Ten years! You bastard! You knew and never once approached me. No, instead you kept him from me! Why?”

“I think that is quite obvious.”

“Yes, your plans, your thoughts, your future!”

“Lucien stop thinking like a madman and start thinking clearly.”

“Oh but I am. . .oh yes, you are preparing to move on, a step higher into the Enforcement agency and you have your chosen heir and a mate for him. My son.”

“My plans have nothing to do with why I didn’t tell you about Kuryakin. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t even sure if he was your son and if he was. . . the further pain would befall him. You have a habit of crushing and destroying everything in your path. I like the boy and I don’t want to see him hurt by anyone.”

“I don’t believe you. You did this out of malice! To make me pay for losing Nicholas! Because of what I did to Divia-”

“Sometimes you are such a fool Lucien.”

“Am I? So tell me what is it that you came here tonight? Since it is so obvious now that I know of my flesh and blood mortal son. Why are you here?”

“I want you to stay away from him.”

“Is that a request?”

“I am not asking, I am telling you Lucien. You are to stay away from Illya Kuryakin. You are not to kill him or to bring him across.”

“Naturally, your precious heir, Napoleon Solo is to have that honor!”

“You don’t understand the full picture.”

“Oh I understand perfectly. My mortal son is to belong to Solo and you. Deny it as you wish, but I see through you Alexander. I am never to have him because of your hatred of me.”

“Why is it everything that somebody does that is against your will is hatred for you? You are sometimes more childish then Nicholas is! Errant, egotistical and full of cruelty. Let go of your anger!”

“Anger, is all that I have, Alexander.”

“And it will be all you have left if you don’t let it go. If you take Illya, you will lose him as you lost Nicholas. Do you think that you can bring him across? He doesn’t even know you? He would go to the light. You would then lose him and yourself forever.”

“Illya is mine! He belongs to me!”

“No, he is not your possession, he is your son! Your very alive and mortal son. The only one that you will ever have. This is your last chance to rectify the death of your daughter. Illya is already bound to you, LaCroix. In time you can meet and get to know him. A bond will come between you, stronger then just master and creation. You do not have to bring him across to make him yours. Don’t you understand? He will only run away from you as Nicholas did!”

“Get out!” LaCroix pointed to the door. Waverly sighed and put his hat back on and moved to the doorway. He paused and glanced back at the angry vampire.

“I intend to have Napoleon Solo become one of us, and in time, Illya. They are truly in love and are meant to be. Matching souls. They are the future that I seek and the future of our community. Times are changing LaCroix. We elder ones must soon move on. Let the young ones rise to glory, to be all that they are capable of being. To hold them back would be a crushing blow for all who live. Mortals and Vampires alike. Someday, I see a future when the swords will be laid down. When we and mortals can exist in peace.”

“It is a idiotic dream for weak fools, old man.”

“No Lucien, it is we that are weak. For strength is not in might, but in surrender. Someday you will understand, when you find your heart again.”

He made for the door, ignoring Lucien’s angry scowl.

“Stay away from Kuryakin. Do not cross me Lucien.” He looked back at LaCroix and his eyes flashed a silver light color.

“I hope I have made myself clear to you, for I shall not warn you again. If I have to. . . it will come to blows and you know who will win.”

And then he was gone.

Lucien turned back to the fireplace. His eyes watched the flames. Entranced, he did not notice the dark figure that crept into the room.

“I‘m here LaCroix?”

Lucien turned and saw a handsome young man enter the room. He had long curly black hair and his eyes were a dark brown, almost black as night. He was dressed in jeans and a denim jacket, with a guitar strapped to his back. He looked scruffy which made him appear even more handsome.

“Vachon. Yes, I have been expecting you. I have a request.”

“I’m just passing through, only gonna be here for a couple of few days. . . what do you want?”

“I need you to do me a favor. I need you to watch over a mortal for me. A very special mortal whom I believe may be in extreme danger. Can you do this one small request?”

Vachon thought about it slowly.

“I, of course, shall owe you greatly” said LaCroix.

“Is that all you want me to do, watch him?”

“Yes, and protect him. If any danger should befall him, I would appreciate a little of your interference. In return I shall grant you any request. Well?”

The younger Vampire paced the room slowly. Then, looking up at LaCroix, he nodded.

“How long?”

“A few days, a week or two.”

“Okay, I‘ll keep an eye on this mortal for you. But only for two weeks. Then I‘m history.”

“Your price?”

The younger one smiled lightly. “I’ll tell you my price when the jobs done. Where is he?”

LaCroix reached over and produced a small piece of paper and handed it to him.

“Two addresses, his home and work place.”

Vachon looked up and shook his head in surprise. “UNCLE?”

“Yes, now go on, go!” Seeing he was dismissed, Vachon bowed ever so slightly, and then flew from the room.

Smiling, LaCroix turned away, not watching the younger Vampire leave. Staring back into the flames, LaCroix was quickly making his own plans. Plans that would return Nicholas to his side and chain his mortal son to him forever.

***

Part two

The lips came together joining and becoming one. It was not the first time they had kissed but it felt like it was. The younger man clung to the other, gasping for air and cursing the need for it at the same time. His whole body felt like it was on fire, the need growing with each passing moment. His hands were moving everywhere on the other body, smoothing out the shoulders, caressing the back and shoulder blades, lightly stroking the round mounds of his mates buttock and then returning to the face and hair he ached to touch.

The older man smiled still clinging to that sweet hot mouth where his tongue dueled for supremacy. Meeting no resistance he melted into the waiting arms. The golden hair fell softly on the pillow and the blue eyes stared up into his and at once he was lost. Completely and utterly lost.

*How could I have rejected you years ago, how could I have not known that loving you would make the loneliness disappear and make my life complete?*

The golden haired man seemed to read his mind and his lips curled up into a playful smile and proceeded to lick and kiss his neck and collar bone.

The tickling sensation blew him away and Napoleon Solo knew that he would never again desire another’s embrace.

Still clinging tightly to his lover, Solo’s hands reached below grasping the hard penis and slowly began a gentle tugging.

Illya’s head shot back as the jolts hit his body, sparkling colors seemed to flash above him and his whole being felt enraptured in this all encompassing moment.

Wanting and needing to reciprocate, Illya reached for Solo’s cock and, grasping it gently, returned the favor in kind, thrusting gently and then going faster as the climax began to build.

Growling under his breath, Illya pushed himself closer to Solo and pressed their lips together. Their tongues dove deep into each other’s mouths. Illya loved to be kissed, and Napoleon who always enjoyed pleasing his bed mates, returned the favor kissing him devoutly in return.

Almost reaching the point of no return, Napoleon suddenly stopped the gentle tugging and moved his hand to his lovers sacs, playing with them and rolling them in the palm of his hand. Crying out softly, Illya tried to return the hand to its proper place but Solo’s hand would not be guided and Illya could feel the soft chuckling laughter of his lover upon his cheek.

Needing more, Illya pressed his body tightly against his lovers skin and tried his own tactic of bringing himself off with flesh against flesh. But Solo knew this tactic well, and refused to end their love making so quickly. He pushed Illya gently back down onto the bed and using his free hand grabbed each of Illya’s wrists and pulled them up over his head holding him securely in place.

Illya whimpered and threw his most dazzling innocent eyes at Napoleon, begging for release. But Napoleon only shook his head and began to feast upon Illya’s nipples. Biting gently and then licking around them before taking more nips.

Illya cried out again, his cock aching, now dripping with precum fluid.

“Napasha please. . .please. . .Oh how you torture me with your touch. Napasha I beg you!”

Hearing the soft cries, Napoleon returned to those sweet lips kissing them.

“Soon, I promise. Soon.”

With Illya slowly trembling under his touches, Napoleon proceeded in his conquest of Russia with each stroke, lick and kiss upon the golden flesh.

“Ah!” Illya gasped for breath, his heart felt like it was pounding in his ears. His blood flowing throughout his body, his cock throbbing for its culmination. Perspiring, Illya jumped when the lips found the head of his penis and began to lick it before tentatively being taken into the hot mouth. Illya spread his legs as wide as he could wishing for more touch as the teeth gently raked across his cock and then the tongue licked and twirled his hard throbbing flesh, low moans of pleasure came from his lips. Illya’s mouth opened desperately trying to pull in air. He felt himself erupt into flames as his penis swelled even more, its ache heightened.

The electricity bombarded him and he felt the climax sweeping him up and over the edge. He cried out and then came. The hot seed spurted into Napoleon’s mouth and though this wasn’t the first time he had tasted semen it took Napoleon a moment to adjust to the taste as he swallowed the liquid as it came.

When he felt the last waves come tumbling down he released the cock from his mouth giving it one last gentle lick before returning to his lover’s face. Illya was still trembling from the aftershocks but wasn’t incoherent. He smiled and reached for his lover’s own cock and seeing he was still hot and aroused, Illya took the member in his hands and began a firm thrusting. It brought Napoleon over the edge seconds later. The seed spilling in pools over his hands and stomach. Illya laughed in pleasure as he watched Napoleon’s face glow with delight.

Relaxing in each others arms, they both clung onto each other, feeling the waves of their love slowly disperse and return to calmer seas.

“Wow, that was fantastic.” Napoleon finally managed to speak.

Illya only grinned. He couldn’t argue the point.

However the silence unnerved Napoleon and he turned to his lover and couldn’t resist asking.

“Was it ok with you?”

“Does this look like an unsatisfied customer, Napoleon?” Still smiling, Illya looked at his lover and grew serious when he saw the worried look in the brown eyes.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Turning away, Napoleon waved his hand into the air. “I-I well, was just wondering how I measured-up.”

Illya’s eyebrows shot up questioningly and Napoleon found himself unable to look back into those blue eyes.

“Napoleon? What are you talking about measure up?”

“Well, I nothing. . it was nothing. Want to call out for some pizza?”

“Hold it right there, you are not going anywhere. Now let’s talk. Tell me what you meant about measuring up? Come on. . .talk to me. Napasha?”

Shrugging, he still refused to meet Illya’s eyes and knowing what he was going to say would be rather childish he just came out with it.

“I was just wondering. . .thinking how I stood up with loving you compared to a vampire. . . to Nick.”

Illya tried to suppress his laughter but found he couldn’t. He started to chuckle, shaking his head, all the while still clinging to Napoleon in his embrace.

“Napoleon!”

“I’m sorry, I know it sounds immature, and insecure but I need to know. How good am I compared to being made love to by a Vampire?”

Finally able to get control, Illya used his hand to grab Napoleon’s chin and pulled it back to face his blue eyes. Kissing him gently on the lips, Illya smiled up at him.

“I never even thought of comparing the two of you. Oh Napasha, please do not allow your jealousy to get the better of you. Nicholas was kind to me and very gentle and I care for him and I think I shall always love him.” Seeing the hurt in the brown eyes Illya hastened to continue. “But I am not IN love with him, I am IN love with you. Always have been. But when you refused to have a relationship with me when we were first partnered I had to let you go. Move on. Nick was exciting and different. He is fabulous and so breath taking. Both of us were lonely for companionship. In him I found a friend-confidant, someone I could relate to. But even when we were together I thought of you. I still wanted you! Do you understand?”

Napoleon nodded. “I do now-But I need to know that I’m good. . . you know-”

Not understanding, Illya looked at him in confusion.

He shrugged and felt the redness come into his face. “You know. . . In bed. . .Sex that I am better then he is!” He replied the last part rather hotly as if he needed to know that he was still the best lover Illya would and could ever have.

Chuckling lightly, Illya looked up at him with his eyes bursting with love.

“You must have bedded more then half the world by now and still you have such low self esteem. . . you are a great lover Napoleon.”

“But am I as good as Nick?”

Looking up at the ceiling, Illya pondered his words. Illya had not yet thought of even comparing the sex of the two different men. But now he did. His mind worked in overdrive as it sought the right words.

“Being made love to by Nick was so unique from anything I ever experienced before. It felt like I was on a much higher level. Some far away and distanced land. High in the clouds and falling, ever falling. It was an over powering feeling. Sometimes it scared me and yet. . .I couldn’t say no. I wanted it. Needed it. Craved it.”

Hearing the answer in Illya’s words, Napoleon looked away. “Oh.”

Illya reached over, and with a touch on Napoleon‘s cheek, brought his lovers eyes back to his own.

“But I never felt as if he was giving me his all, his entire being. His heart. Nick had been hurt many times. . .he always seemed to be holding back. So when we made love sometimes I thought it wasn’t all that it could be- then there is you. You hold nothing back, and give me everything. I feel like I’m an inferno inside. Enflamed and only you can put out the fire. I feel warm and loved. . .complete. It seems like all my life I have been seeking for the other half of my soul and now I realize it was you that held that other part of me. When we make love I feel such passion and strength and when I fly I know that I shall NOT fall. I love you Napasha with all my heart and soul. Please know that, and please don’t compare yourself against Nicholas. You two are so much alike and yet so very diverse. I love you both, but I love you more!”

Smiling in contentment, Napoleon kissed his love one more time. Snuggling in each other’s arms each found what the other needed and in moments they had drifted off to sleep.

***

The sun was rising over the tall buildings. In Napoleon’s penthouse he was able to watch the rising of the sun. Soon, he thought sadly. Soon he would never be able to see it again. He would miss the sun, the warmth, the bright light. The dawning of a new day and all the things that came with the sun. He would never see the sunlight in Illya’s mop of golden locks. He would never again be able to go to a park and hear the laughter of children playing. Most of all he would never again be able to walk into a church. He stared down at the rosary beads he held in his hands.

He was no religious fanatic, and he didn’t attend church. But he did love and believe in God. It was that which often gave him the strength to cope with a world gone mad. He wondered if he became a Vampire if he would still be able to pray?

“What are you thinking about?”

Two arms enfolded themselves around Solo’s waist and a golden mop of hair laid itself against his shoulder blades.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“How beautiful the sun is.”

Illya looked out the window of the penthouse and nodded. “It is very beautiful. Looks like it will be a nice warm day. Want to take a trip to the beach? We still have three days off before we have to return to work?”

Napoleon turned back into Illya’s embrace and smiled down at the golden Russian.

“Illya, you said that Nick is looking for a cure for his ahm, condition. Why?”

Illya shrugged, surprised that Nick once again was brought into their discussion.

“I don’t know. He’s never specific. He says he doesn’t want to kill anymore but he hasn’t killed anyone in over two centuries. He only drinks cows blood. He says that he can’t live like a Vampire and yet everything he does that helps him to succeed is all because of what he is. I think the real reason is something that is even beyond his own understanding. He is so caught up with repenting for all the people he has killed that he has lost sight of all the people he has helped. I think sometimes that his search for mortality is more for a search of forgiveness and that is something that he may never find. Because to get forgiveness you have to first forgive yourself. Nick can’t do that.”

“I feel sorry for him.”

“So do I, I have tried to help him in what ways I can but. . .well he is a stubborn sort. He will have to learn that lesson on his own.”

Thinking it over, Napoleon risked the question that had been preying on his mind for the past several days.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure?” Illya replied giving him a kiss

“Would you miss the sun?”

Illya smiled and shrugged. Napoleon is being symbolic again, how funny the American can be. He thinks that I shall leave him, that I don’t love him. I shall prove him wrong. “You are my sun and my moon. The only thing I would miss, would be you if you left me.”

Shaking his head Napoleon pulled Illya closer in to his arms.

“That is not possible.” Inside Napoleon smiled, so Illya would indeed follow him into the darkness. He would never be alone and neither would Illya.

Laughing, Illya led Napoleon back to the bed, it would be a long time before they would get up and have breakfast. A very long time.

.........................

They had an incredible and enjoyable next three days. Illya and Napoleon spent every waking moment together, night or day. When the last of the night of their vacation was over Napoleon had taken his time making love to Illya. After the passion had reached its climax, Illya drifted off into a deep sleep. Unable to sleep, Napoleon stared off into the darkness of his bedroom. His thoughts were all in a whirl. He was nervous, and confused and worried. Clutching his lover closer to his body, Napoleon wondered for the millionth time what would it be like to be immortal?

The telephone rang cutting off his thoughts. Grabbing the phone before it could waken his lover Napoleon pulled the phone to his ear.

“Solo here.”

“Mr. Solo. Are you ready?” Napoleon already knew who it was before hearing the familiar voice.

“Sir. Yes.”

“Get dressed. There is a limo waiting for you down stairs. Pack a few things. You will be gone for a week or so.”

Napoleon paused, catching his breath, glancing at his sleeping lover.

“Don’t worry, I will speak to Kuryakin. The separation won’t be long but it is necessary. Come.”

Napoleon nodded, hanging up the phone, Napoleon turned one last time at his lover and bending over the golden man he kissed him one last time on the lips. The last time he would as a mortal. Solo could only hope that he wasn’t making a mistake.

Ten minutes later he was dressed and packed. He wished he could leave a note but knowing what was waiting for him down stairs, Napoleon swallowed and hurried out the door.

The golden body moved slowly turning on to his stomach, his hand reaching out to touch the other side of the bed, seeking the comfort of the warm body he loved so dearly. Finding nothing, Illya awoke abruptly. Blinking away sleep, Illya realized he was alone.

Getting to his feet, Illya spotted the open closet and missing clothes. Hurrying to the window, Illya watched as a limo pulled away from the apartment complex.

***

Napoleon stared sadly out the dark window. The older man seated next to him looked on at his fellow agent with understanding.

“He will be alright. I’ll have him partnered with Nicholas Knight while you’re away. He will look after him.”

Napoleon nodded, still not turning away from the window.

“You have changed your mind?”

The young one only shook his head.

“Are you afraid?”

“A little.”

Waverly reached out touching Napoleons hand taking it into his own.

“Trust me.” said Waverly.

Napoleon finally stared at his boss, the man he respected more than anyone other then Illya. The man who was like a father to him.

“I do.”

Clasping the hand in return, Napoleon squeezed gently.

Smiling, Waverly leaned back in the limo and stared on at his soon to be fledgling.

***

LaCroix was just finishing his broadcast on Night Watch when he felt the presence of his son.

Completing his speech and putting on a piece of Chopin music, he rose from his seat.

Nick entered the room looking as if he was a condemned man sent to the lions. Hiding his amused smile, LaCroix played the game.

“Ah, Nicholas, and what brings you to my world this evening?”

“I promised to spend one night with you a week. Here I am.”

No longer hiding the smile, LaCroix grinned. He had almost forgotten the pact that he and Nicholas had made at his son’s loft a week ago. In agreement to leave Illya alone and not to harm the mortal, Nicholas promised to spend one entire night with his master every week.

“Oh yes, I thought you might have forgotten.”

“I never forget an agreement LaCroix. So what is on the agenda?”

LaCroix paused for a moment, thinking this new development over. He could end the game and just tell Nicholas that he knew all about Illya, and that his master had every intention of getting both his sons back in his life, but what kind of fun would that be? No, for now he would play along and allow things to run their course. But, there is tonight and he so desired to do a great deal with Nicholas. A bed and satin sheets came to mind. Shaking his head, LaCroix put that away for another time and place.

“Why don’t we go back to my place.”

Nick looked at him wearily, as if suspicious of his Master’s motives. *Ah, I did teach the boy well.*

“We’ll have a few drinks and play some chess? How does that sound? A nice, quiet evening, en famille, Oui?”

Lowering his head, Nick agreed. He had no choice. Bitterly, Nick thought, when did he ever?

***

It was a long night and Nick’s mind was not entirely on the game. The vampire UNCLE Agent kept waiting for the shoe to drop and have his Master pounce upon him. Wondering if it would be a beating or something sexual. Neither happened. After five games and three glasses of blood wine, LaCroix glanced at the clock and smiled. “It is nearly dawn. I guess that is it for this evening. It was wonderful spending time with you my son. Have a nice day.” He added with a sarcastic dark tone.

Unsure what his Master was up to, Nick was happy to leave and it wasn’t until he was back at his loft that he actually felt his fear subside. Fear and something else. Desire. Sitting near LaCroix’s fireplace and playing chess had brought back old memories. Memories of another place and time. A place when he and LaCroix had been closer. When they hadn’t been fighting and hurting each other. A time when they had been lovers. Nick knew LaCroix still desired and wanted him. But Nick wasn’t ready to return to that relationship.

Confused, Nick sat down on his couch and rubbed the blood sweat from his forehead.

How is it that I love and hate him all at the same time? Something inside him stirred and Nick knew why, but he wasn’t ready to face that, not yet. Not now.

Leaning back against the couch, Nick did allow himself to remember the good and the bad times.

___________________________________________________________________________

The good times: The enlarged hard cock thrusting deep inside him, the arms holding him gently in a loving embrace, those lips kissing him everywhere. The feeling of being the most important person in LaCroix’s life. The love, the deep intense feeling of being loved and protected.

The bad times: LaCroix savagely beating him, the mastery, the domination. The pain and fear. The cruel games. The abandonment.

____________________________________________________________________________

Once upon a time LaCroix had loved him and made him feel like a prince, a treasure above all treasures. But then, for some unknown reason his Master had suddenly cursed him. . . hurt him. Left him. Nick remembered that last night vividly.

They had made love so passionately on the floor, Nick had climbed all the way into the heavens, and then when he awoke, instead of finding himself embraced in his Master’s arms, he found only an empty room. All of LaCroix’s things were gone. Nick waited weeks for his Master to return. When he didn’t Nick went after him.

It took almost a year for Nick to trace his father to Rome. It had been a mistake. Instead of finding a welcoming embrace, Nick had felt the sting of his father’s sharp tongue. The angry words, and the painful accusations. Not including the worst beating Nick had ever had in his entire existence as a Vampire. Nick never understood why his Master had suddenly turned on him, why he had left him? Nick’s heart was broken. He realized only then that LaCroix had never loved him, that he/Nicholas had only been a toy to be played with and then thrown aside.

And so Nick left and he never looked back. It was five years later when his Master came seeking him out, and this time it was Nick who was able to turn the tables. To curse at his master and to turn him away. To flee. Nick never again allowed himself to care for another person. Mortal or immortal. He built his walls high and allowed no one access.

In doing so, Nick realized that he no longer wanted to be a vampire and that he wanted to repent for all his sins. So here he now stood once again on the edge of a cliff. Things had been going so well. He had started to make his life his own again and free of his dark past. Now he was back where he had started hundreds of years ago. Enslaved to a Master who neither wanted him nor would let him go. Who Nick knew only sought to hurt his child and play a few more cruel games before once again throwing him aside.

No! No Nick would not submit again. He would never lie down for his Master again.

But then Nick did remember that touch, that sweet touch and that enduring smile, that tongue that could do such incredible things to his body.

Closing his eyes, Nick pushed back the blood tears. No, he would never love again. He would never allow LaCroix back into his life or into his heart. He would die first.

***

LaCroix stared into the fireplace. The flames danced on the burning wood. In side those flames LaCroix could see Nicholas’s face. So deep, so beautiful and so out of reach. Once he and Nicholas had been close. With Janette out of the picture, LaCroix was free to finally claim the crusader for himself. How wonderful those years had been. So enthralling and perfect. Nicholas had been his completely and eternally. What had caused it all to end? LaCroix shrugged and looked away. Damn Alexander Waverly, he was right. I caused him to run away.

LaCroix still remembered that fateful night. That night while Nicholas slept, when an ancient Enforcer had come, telling LaCroix that the council wanted to see him. He had to obey the summons and left so quickly that he had no time to even leave Nicholas a note.

Arriving in Rome, LaCroix found himself on trial. Somehow his deed of killing his master Divia had been revealed to the council. It was against their laws to kill one’s own master. The penalty was usually a swift death. But, many of the council liked LaCroix and at that time one of them was Alexander Waverly. He had even stood in front of the council on his behalf. Pleading for his life to be spared. They finally agreed but in turn, LaCroix had to be punished and made an example of in the Vampire community.

The punishment had been quite severe, He had been beaten and left chained in a dungeon for months. Every day he was forced to endure another punishment and then another. His sentence had not been completed when Nicholas made an appearance.

LaCroix’s happiness at seeing his son was suddenly filled with fear. That the council would extend their anger on the young vampire. At the time there were several on the council that had sought LaCroix’s death. To protect his son, LaCroix had to do what was necessary and drive his child away. He couldn’t tell Nicholas what was happening. LaCroix reasoned that it was for Nicholas’s own sake, but now he realized it was his own pride. He had not wanted Nicholas to see him a prisoner, beaten, humiliated.

He had been harsher then was necessary. Some of the pain he had endured for so long had come out in anger upon his child. In the end, Lucien LaCroix got what he wanted and Nicholas was driven away from him.

When LaCroix was finally freed it took a long time for him to heal, and regain his pride. When he was able to seek out his child he found only malice and resentment. LaCroix tried to be patient but now that he was free he wanted Nicholas back in his life and in his bed.

But Nicholas did not forget easily the rejection. Even after so many centuries. Nicholas had not forgiven him. Instead, the more LaCroix sought Nicholas out the further the young vampire ran from him. The Barrier stood between them, insurmountable and unbreakable.

My sweet Nicholas, my son, my slave. . .my love. What can I do to make you come back to me? What can I do to make up for the pain I caused you?

The words from Alexander came back to him.

“All you had to do was tell him the truth, that you loved him. Purely and with conviction but oh no, no the Great Lucien Lacroix does is not capable of love.”

*It is too late Alexander, far too late.* But LaCroix would not give up. He would get Nicholas back. He just had to be patient and move slowly. He had forced Nicholas to spend at least one night a week with him, in time he would entice Nicholas to come back to his arms and to his bed.

*Nicholas belongs to me, he belongs with me and I will have my family back. All of them. *

***

Part three

“But where had Napoleon and Mr. Waverly gone?” Illya stared at the agent perplexed. Standing behind him were Nick and Schanke. Upon arriving at Uncle HQ, they had been summoned to Waverly’s office to find Mike Welby seated as Head of UNCLE in NY.

The older man only shrugged.

“I am not at liberty to say Mr. Kuryakin but I was to assure you they would return within a week. In the meantime you are to be partnered with Mr. Knight and Mr. Don Schanke. “

Schanke smiled shaking his head. “Don’t worry, Mr. Welby will look after the kid.”

Illya grimaced at the over weight Polish/Italian man then, momentary look at Nick and seeing his confused stare, Illya bit down his pride and nodded.

A few hours later he and Nick were seated at their desks typing up old reports, while Schanke had finally gone home to his wife and daughter.

“Are you ok?” Asked Nick as he pulled the paper from the type writer and placed it in a neat folder.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Illya gritted his teeth, not sounding the least bit so.

“He didn’t even say good bye did he?”

Illya didn’t look up.

“He’ll be back, Illya.” Nick reached out and Illya looked up as the hand gently tapped his shoulder.

Comforted, Illya nodded. Finishing his report, Illya filed it away and then noticing the clock he reached over to check to see if any messages had been left for him in the Secretary’s office. Illya was disappointed to find that although he had two messages none were from Napoleon. They were from two of the girls in the lower level office asking him out for supper. Being the gallant man that he was, Illya sent a kind note of refusal and a rose to each woman. It wasn’t that Illya didn’t like women, on the contrary he liked them very much, but he wasn‘t sure he would be able to be charming and entertaining tonight not while missing his lover.

“Want to go out. Can I buy you dinner?”

Illya paused almost refusing, then he smiled. Well, It couldn’t hurt. Nick was his friend and would be the only one to understand his loneliness.

***

A few hours later, Illya sat on Nick’s couch munching away on Chinese take out, while Nick stood a little away from him drinking a glass of his bovine blood, grimacing at the smell of human food. The smell was nauseating, ah well at least Illya had asked the restaurant to hold the garlic. That at least was a blessing.

“Want to talk about it?” Asked Nick. Illya looked up and popped the last chicken finger into his mouth.

“Not really.”

“You miss him?”

“Shows huh?”

“Napoleon has gone on missions before without you?”

“I know, its just. . .” Illya picked up some of the chow mein and shrugged before popping it into his mouth.

“It’s different now?” Nick finished for him. Illya nodded and continued to eat.

Nick sat down in the nearby chair and faced Illya solemnly. Illya truly was one of the most beautiful, intelligent men he had ever met. Nick was surprised that after everything, he still had deep feelings for the mortal. But, Nick had known the relationship between them was only temporary. Even in the heat of passion, Illya’s heart had been elsewhere. His thoughts only on his dark haired partner. As for Nick, he had never been able to give as much as he wanted and deserved to Illya. The Russian had suffered terribly in the past. From the first taste of Illya’s blood, Nick knew of his tortured history. Nick had promised himself that he would do what ever it took to keep the Russian happy and safe. But now, that role had been taken out of his hands. No, it was now Napoleon Solo who was Illya’s happiness.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Illya waved his hand in front of Nick and the vampire returned to the present. He smiled at the mortal. Yes, Illya was beautiful, intelligent and deadly. But the mortal was not like his blood father. Illya didn’t play games of the heart. He just simply loved.

Napoleon had better make Illya happy or Nick would make sure the debonair Solo felt the wrath of one Immortal.

“Nick, what are you thinking about?”

Nick flushed and shrugged. “I was thinking that I would like to watch a movie.” Getting up, he went to the TV and put it on. In moments an NBC night made for movie was on. Moving the empty cartons out of the way, Nick sat down next to Illya. After a moment the blond moved in closer and laid his head against Nick’s shoulder.

It wasn’t anything sexual, just two lonely people seeking comfort with one another’s presence. When the commercial came on Illya softly asked Nick if he had any popcorn? Nick chuckled for at least a few moments in time he was happy again. But he knew sadly, it wouldn’t last. It never did.

***

“So, when do we take the little blond fag?”

“Shut up Jake. You know how much I hate labels especially ignorant ones.”

“Ok, the cute little blond fag? Better? The partner is gone. We could have taken him this morning on his way in to work?”

“No, too many people. Tomorrow night. The mistress wants no mistakes. He is not to come to any harm. Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it don’t hurt the faggot.”

Vachon then heard a loud bang as flesh connected to flesh.

“Aw damn it Ross why’d you hit me. . .I think my nose is broken?”

“Just shut up!”

Hearing enough, Vachon flew to the sky heading for the Raven.

***

LaCroix was just about to close up for the night. Janette had turned in already, finding herself a bed partner for the day light. Now with everything out of the way, LaCroix was plotting on how to make arrangements to get to meet his soon to be newest member of his family, Illya Kuryakin. Then Vachon flew into the Club. LaCroix did not hide his annoyance at Vachon barging in like a bat out of hell. Vampires, even young ones, needed to learn some dignity and semblance of respect for their elders. Vachon was a four hundred year old Immortal and still had much to learn.

Seeing the Spaniards concerned expression, LaCroix pushed back his annoyance to listen to Vachon’s testimony and by the end of it, the Ancient vampire’s anger had increased ten knots.

Once again his family was endangered. But by whom?

***

Napoleon slowly opened his eyes. He was thirsty. So very thirsty.

He also felt weak and sleepy.

“It is always the way at first. Take it easy my son.”

Napoleon opened his eyes to see Waverly standing protectively over him. The glass of red liquid was placed gently at his lips and Napoleon felt the stirring over take him. The hunger, the need. He drained the glass with one quick flick of his wrist.

Sitting up, Napoleon stared into the dark chambers. The only lights were the several dozen candles placed all around the room. The bed was soft and covered in blankets and pillows. He was quite comfortable and felt safe. But there was a strange buzzing in his head.

“That is the bond we now share. It will be a bit like a throbbing head ache, but in a day or two it will ease. You will get use to it. The bond is necessary so that if you are ever in danger or in need of help your master, myself in this case, can find you.”

“I don’t understand this Master and slave, father and son, thing Waverly?”

Alexander took a seat on the edge of the bed and gently touched Napoleon’s hair, pushing back a stray lock.

“I want to see Illya.” Napoleon suddenly felt lonely, and frightened.

“Not yet, You have no rule over your hunger. . .the beating of a mortals’ heart is like not eating for days and suddenly you get a call from your mother to come home and eat your supper.”

Napoleon looked up at him, his eyes blazing in a deep green color. “You didn’t tell me I would endanger Illya?” Alarm filled his eyes.

Alexander shushed him softly and pushed him back gently into the bed.

“Do not fear. By the end of the week, I will have taught you some control. When you are with Illya you must be sure to have a full stomach of blood. In that way Illya will be quite safe.”

Napoleon swallowed down his fear and glanced up at his new Master.

“What else haven’t you told me?”

Alexander nodded, knowing it was time.

“Because you are so young. . . it will be unwise for you to make love to Illya as he is a mortal. For a vampire, the need to bite in full orgasm is a necessity and it takes many centuries for one to learn only to take a few gulps and not drain their mortal lover completely. Some never learn to control the beast. But it can be done.”

Napoleon felt the tears spring into his eyes. “No. But you said!...”

“Shhh, it will be alright Napoleon. . .Illya will be brought across. . . and then you can be together forever.”

Napoleon closed his eyes. Sleep was over taking him. As he slept he dreamed. He dreamed of making love to his Russian lover, of him thrusting deep into the pliant body, his hands holding tightly in place over the golden hips. He could feel the blood just on the surface of the skin, racing and beating. His cock hard and throbbing in need. His mouth open in pure ecstasy. The teeth stretched and the fangs came down. He thrust ever harder into the body pulling him closer beneath him. The figure made low moans of mixed pain and pleasure.

Then, in one swift moment, Napoleon attacked, his fangs biting deep into the milky neck. The blood flowed into his mouth. He swallowed and swallowed needing and wanting more and more from his lover. Wanting it all. Until finally the orgasm hit him, a thousand times more powerful then he had ever experienced. No mortal would ever survive it, no mortal could. He rode the flames until they all burned out.

When Napoleon opened his eyes, he waited and stared into the darkness. Lying asleep beside him was Waverly. Looking to his master Napoleon tried not to flinch when he saw the bite marks on the older man’s throat. A smile crept on the old face.

“It is our way Napoleon . . .We are not constrained like mortals. We are not gay, or straight or bi-sexual. We are merely sexual creatures and with it comes the blood. Our life, our entire being, is in the blood of our victims, master and the ones that we love. Do not be ashamed, you are indeed quite the lover. I envy Illya. . .you are most intense.”

Turning away, Napoleon lowered his eyes, curling up into a ball, he suddenly wondered if he hadn’t made the biggest mistake of his life? *Illya, what have I done?*

***

Part Four

Another dull day at the office. Illya came home to his apartment ready to collapse. He was beat. There was something about staring at paper that made a person just want to curl up and take a nap. It was just so boring! Illya thought about going over to Nick’s for another Movie Marathon but he wanted to check his messages to see if Napoleon had called. One look at the answering machine and Illya got his answer.

He had to relax. This feeling of melancholy was not sitting well. There were bound to be times when Napoleon and he would be sent on separate missions; in fact he had in the past. It never bothered him before, so why now? He longed to be held in Napoleon’s arms, to feel his lips touching his and having the taste. . .ohhhh, Illya looked down at his tight pants and groaned. This is just not going to be one of my better days he thought.

Taking a well needed cold shower, Illya just stepped out and was wrapping himself up in a towel, when he felt a chill go up his spine. Something was wrong. He could sense it.

He had left his gun and communicator pen in his bedroom. With no weapon in hand, Illya grabbed the only thing he had in the bathtub; a plunger. Moving forward, Illya spotted a dark shadow just beyond the wall of his kitchen.

***

He smashed through the window with the Spaniard right behind him. LaCroix had to wait until the sun completely went down before he could try to get to his son’s aid. But it was too late. Vachon pointed at the open door and the brief struggle evident in the living room.

“We’re too late, LaCroix!”

Snarling angrily, LaCroix searched the room, looking for a clue. He found nothing.

“I remember the license plate to the van.”

LaCroix nodded and headed for the window. “Come, We will need Nicholas’s help!”

Vachon scowled but turned and followed the ancient master.

***

He held the medallion in his right hand. Illya, had found it in the tomb of Ka-Le, and after the death of the ancient vampire the Russian had given the amulet to him. It was suppose to be a gift from Isis, said to have great power and healing abilities. The ability to turn a vampire back to his mortality. Nicholas stared deep at the object, willing it to help him. The medallion felt slightly warm in his hands but did nothing. Hope was quickly becoming despair. He had to become mortal again! He had to find his soul. Only then could he find redemption.

Nicholas knew something was wrong the moment he felt his sire’s presence. He was coming.

Putting away the medallion, he looked up at his skylight to see LaCroix and Vachon descending. A moment later they stood before him.

“What‘s wrong?”

LaCroix was brief and to the point. “Some men have taken Kuryakin. We need to find them and rescue him before he comes to harm.”

Nick swallowed, not wanting to ask the question he most feared. “You know don’t you?”

LaCroix turned away and shrugged. He was angry at Nicholas. Angry at his child for not being straight with him about Illya’s origins but at the same time, he knew Nicholas had done this in innocence to protect the mortal from harm. Now was not the time to lay blame.

“I know.”

“Do you know who might have taken him?”

Javier Vachon stepped forward. “Last night, I spotted a van outside your place while you and Illya were together, I have the license number.”

Nicholas growled, his anger reaching boiling point. He stared at his father in rage.

“You sent him to spy on us? On Illya?”

LaCroix confronted his child, feeling his own anger deepen.

“I wouldn’t have had to if you and Waverly had permitted me to see him in the first place! No! You wanted to keep him away from me. . .away from my evil!”

Getting closer, Nick was not the least bit intimidated. His anger over rode all his fear and good sense.

“Oh, I get it. All of a sudden the indignant father are we? Why should we have allowed you to see Illya? You haven’t shown one ounce of love for any of your own children. You haven’t shown any love for anyone, not even me, whom you claim as your favorite! A play thing, that is all I have ever been to you, cast out when ever it’s convenient. Why would you start caring for any of us now! Immortal or mortal!”

LaCroix moved, control barely leashed, towards the blond man in front of him.

“He belongs to me. He is my child, of my blood! As you are! How dare you try to hide him from me? You should have told me as soon as you learned of him. Tell me, how many laughs did you get in my expense behind my back!”

“You egotistical, self centered, fiend! I have suffered your cruelty for eight hundred years. You think I was going to let you lay a hand on Illya! He has suffered enough in his short life time, and I would die first before I would allow you to turn him into some dark creature of the night, to fill his soul with your sick perversity! You are heartless, incapable of love...”

Without thought LaCroix’s hand struck, and Nick was hit with full force across his cheek sending him crashing backwards into the wall. As Nick rose, preparing to return the favor, Vachon stepped between the two of them.

“Okay, let’s chill people! Look, can we just halt all battles and put the accusations aside until we can find the little Russian guy. I mean after all we want to get him back right? We can always kill each other later?” The Spanish vampire looked at the two of them as if patronizing two children.

LaCroix reined in on his temper, and Nick regained control over his. Nick lowered his eyes and nodded.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep Illya safe.”

LaCroix for the first time met his child half way. “I haven’t been an ideal father nor have I had much patience. ” He swallowed and added truthfully but refused to actually say the words I‘m sorry, after all it would be just so unlike LaCroix.

Seeing that each had finally swallowed a bit of his own pride, Vachon picked up a nearby phone and handed it to Nick.

“Better get a hold of your U.N.C.L.E. HQ and see if they can track down that license plate.”

Nick took the phone, and taking in a frustrated breath, dialed the number in.

***

His head hurt. In fact everything hurt. But mostly his head. Trying to open his eyes, Illya found that he couldn’t. They seemed to be nailed shut. He also couldn’t move. It took a few seconds to feel the ropes that bound him to what seemed to be a wooden chair. Great, who was it this time? T.H.R.U.S.H. ? Disgruntled worker? Spurned ex lover?

He heard movement beside him. Keeping as still as possible, Illya felt several long finger nails gently rake through his hair.

“Wake my dear little prince. It’s time to awaken.”

Swallowing, Illya tried again to open his eyes. He managed to open them this time and stared up at a familiar face though he was sure he had not met the woman before.

“Dr Kempacuff I presume?”

“Very wise for one so young. They didn’t tell me you were so. . . handsome.” She lightly touched his chin, Illya kept still allowing the touch, knowing full well any resistance would be rather futile at the moment. The best thing to do was buy time.

“I thought you were dead?”

“I am. . .undead a gift from Ka-Le.”

“I, ah, take it there is a reason for kidnapping me. I hear you have some kind of vendetta towards vampires?”

“Oh, my sweet little one, much more than a vendetta. A particular hatred for the one named LaCroix and you are the key.”

Illya shrugged. “I hardly think my life would be very important to an ancient vampire. Never even met the guy. However if you call up CERK radio station I’m sure they can arrange you to meet him. May I go home?”

The Lady vampire laughed, moving slowly around her prey. Illya suddenly felt uneasy when he saw the two sharp fangs protrude over her lips.

“You don’t know do you? They never told you? How marvelous.”

“Tell me what?” Illya felt a cold chill go up his spine as the woman continued to laugh. She moved slowly to a near by window looking fondly up at a white half moon.

“My father was a great man, with great ideas. I was so proud of him. He wanted to help our leader to create the perfect Master race, superior to other beings. My father was very selective of the women he would use and the perfect specimens. It was all so flawless. Until he destroyed it, killing my father.”

“LaCroix?”

“Yes, and he made sure the Allies destroyed the entire camp. All my father’s work. . .ashes. I tried all my life to resurrect his work. . .but I-I do not have my father’s skill. So, all I could do was wait and bide my time when I would find Lucien LaCroix and make him pay for his crimes, and just as my vengeance was near someone came along and gave him and his community a cure. Special blood, that held special immunities. . .found only in one lone survivor of the concentration camp.”

Illya felt the cold go through him. “Neningar?”

“Yes. . .One woman escaped, a pregnant woman who would give birth to a little boy. You.”

Illya tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. Fear was starting to over take him as the implications sank in. He was a freak of nature. He had always suspected, but now he knew.

“What are you saying? That-that I am. . .a-a. . .”

“A half breed. . .your mother was human, but your father. . .ah my little one, was a vampire and not just any vampire-Lucien LaCroix! Isn’t that wonderful? You have family and soon they will be coming for you. When they come. . .I shall destroy them all!”

***

Part 5

He felt himself pulled back to a time when he was just twelve years old. He gazed up at a military man who was about to decide his fate. The High officer had stared chillingly down at him as if he was an insect. He still remembered the cold words that Commander Sergi had said to the frightened, orphaned boy.

“You are nothing, you belong to no one. You are ours now to be done with as we please. You will obey every command and you will do whatever we say without question. If you disobey any of our orders you will be punished severely. Do you understand?”

“Your Mother and Grandparents have left a great debt to Mother Russia, and you as the sole survivor, will repay that debt.”

And Illya did. In the beginning his work was merely hard labor and running errands for the officers in the KGB. Illya obeyed every rule and every command. But even that did not save him from punishment. The Officers often rebuked him and frequently beat him for no reason at all; just because he was there. The KGB had promised to educate him, to provide him with food and clothing and give him a place of honor for his country, but to Illya’s horror, he realized he had been told all lies and he was nothing more but a plaything and a slave. A slave who often went hungry.

It was two years into his servitude that a new transferred officer befriended Illya, Captain Adric Acklaff. He, unlike the others, was kind to him. Often Illya would seek him out, in his private chambers. Illya found a scholar, who’s greatest love was books. Illya who had been denied an education for so long had found within himself a hunger to read and learn. The Officer allowed Illya to borrow the books and to read them in his free time. Not that Illya had much free time, but when he did, he would eagerly read the precious books late into the night. The Officer became a well loved instructor who also started to teach Illya other things of culture and music. A patient man who took to Illya as if he was his own child.

It was not missed by the officers that the relationship between them had developed, but Adrian was a high ranking man who was well liked in high places and could not be touched. In him, Illya found a teacher and a father. A man he easily could look up to.

But at the age of sixteen Illya’s life changed again when a mysterious assassin killed the Captain.

Lt Sergi, now a Captain, was once again the master of his fate. This time he ruled with an iron fist. Not a day went by that Illya did not suffer a cruel and unnecessary beating. Illya never disobeyed, it had been drilled into him for far too long, but no matter what Illya did, he could not appease the Captain. It was as if he sought ways to hurt the young man.

One night the beatings were so severe that Illya awoke to find himself in the infirmary. The cold doctors, for a change, were sympathetic to him and seemed almost sorry for Illya. It was during his stay that Illya mistakenly over heard a nurse speak to one of the doctors. She called him a freak and a monster and that the boy would be better off dead.

It took a long time for the grief-stricken boy to fall asleep, and when he awoke in the morning, Illya was determined to escape. Any hell hole, even one on the streets, were far better then this place.

A year later he put his plan into action. Escape was not as difficult as Illya had thought. The officers were all asleep and the guards, for some reason, were not at their regular posts. Not asking why or how, Illya left behind the world he knew for four years and took his first step into freedom.

Although he never looked back, Illya never forgot these words.

“I tell you, that child is a freak, a monster. . .it should be killed! It would be merciful to kill it!”

It?

All of it was insane. He had been an ill conceived experiment to create a master race and instead, for all that work, they got nothing.

For the first time in his life, Illya wished he had never been born. Then Illya’s mind returned to the present. What will Napoleon think of him? A half breed? A monster and freak of nature? Would he still want him after learning of his past? What of UNCLE and Waverly? Would he want a half breed in his organization or would he send the Enforcers to kill him. To rid the world of this abomination? Where will he go if they even let him live? Illya could not return to Russia. Would UNCLE allow him to stay in America? Would Napoleon ever want to see him again?

His mind swung deep into despair. What of Lucien LaCroix? Who was this strange vampire? What would he do when he found out he had a mortal son? Nick had said once that his ancient master vampire was temperamental and easily enraged. It was without a doubt that LaCroix would destroy this outcast child of his seed.

All at once this information was too much, and with the past and dark future that lay before him, Illya found himself consumed with torment.

“Ah, poor little one. They never told you? You never guessed? Aww, there there now don’t cry.”

Doctor Kempacuff gently stroked the distraught mans hair, all the while, pretending to be motherly and consoling.

“You may be different. Nevertheless, you are very special. You and I are going to make quite a match.”

Opening his eyes, Illya pushed back the pain and tried to resume his mask of indifference to this woman.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that after LaCroix is dead, we shall move to the next vital stage of my plan. Although you are not the intended master race, through your children they will come!”

Illya grimaced and stared at the mad woman in horror.

“What?”

“You are going to help unfold my father’s plans. Don‘t you see, you are the masterpiece of my Father‘s life‘s work!”

Understanding what the woman was saying, Illya felt his stomach turn over.

“No!”

“Oh yes, my little one. . .you and I shall have many children and these children will conquer the world!”

***

Napoleon tried one more attempt to fly. He managed a few feet before he lost his concentration and landed twelve feet below in a trash heap. Sighing in disgust, and not entirely from his failed endeavor, he looked up at Mr. Waverly. The Head of UNCLE slowly flew down to meet him. The older vampire looked on at his fledgling with a small bit of annoyance and amusement.

“Napoleon you need to learn to concentrate.”

“I am concentrating!”

“No you’re not! You are thinking about Illya again. Now stop it and start focusing!”

Napoleon took in a deep breath, and climbing out of the heap, he looked at his disheveled clothes and shook his head.

“I just can’t help it! I’m sorry Mr. Waverly. I really miss Illya.”

“I know you do, but you must learn how to use your powers before we return to UNCLE.”

Napoleon folded his arms around himself and looked down at the ground before him.

“I’m sorry.”

Pushing back his annoyance, Waverly smiled at the newly made vampire.

“Something else is bothering you. . . What is it? Tell me?”

Napoleon sighed and confessed. “What if Illya doesn’t want to become a full fledged vampire, what if he refuses?”

“He won’t.” Waverly replied stubbornly.

“What if he doesn’t?”

Raising an eyebrow, Waverly shrugged. “He won’t have a choice. He will have to. Illya is approaching his thirtieth birthday and when that happens the council’s commands will have to be obeyed.

Napoleon, now intrigued, looked at Waverly in confusion. Slightly uncomfortable, Waverly decided he had better come clean.

“When I learned about Kuryakin’s existence I also had to inform the council of him. They did not receive the news quite well. In fact they wanted me to destroy him.”

Napoleon paled.

Waverly at once patted him gently on the shoulder.

Napoleon blinked at his Boss and Master.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“They will kill him.”

Napoleon turned away, his hand going to his chest. The pain filled his eyes.

“No! No you can’t let them kill him.”

Waverly moved forward and pulled Napoleon back to face him.

“He will not perish. Illya is a survivor and he will choose life. I know he will.”

Napoleon swallowed and shook his head. He suddenly stared at Waverly with angry glowing eyes.

“You did this, all of this to get him? This wasn’t ever about me? This was for you? You never intended me to take Illya across. . .you were going to do it all along? Weren’t you?”

Waverly took a step back preparing to deny what Napoleon was saying.

“I see it now. . .I see it all so very clearly.” Napoleon paced around his master all the while his anger growing. “You learned of Illya and decided you wanted him. You have always wanted him. . .DON’T deny it! I see it in your blood!” Napoleon growled, his fangs coming forward.

“You knew about him and helped him to escape the KGB, but only so you could claim him. You lured him to UNCLE and then you waited. You knew exactly who his father was, you knew all along. . .” Napoleon lowered his eyes and contemplated the thoughts inside his mind and running through his body.

“And you wanted him for yourself. . .That is why you never told Illya who he was or about his origins...I can’t believe I was so blind! You were afraid he would go to LaCroix. . .and that LaCroix would at once claim Illya as his responsibility, as his son and child. You didn’t want that. The only reason you took me first is because you wanted leverage. . .not an heir. You never planned on leaving or retiring. You planned to have Illya for yourself. . .you knew of Illya’s affection for me and used it to further your plans! Tell me the truth! Tell me! Damn you!”

Waverly finally stared at Napoleon and shrugged.

“So, you know. Yes, it is true.”

“Why? How could you do this to me? To Illya? How could you?”

Waverly once again turned away and looked towards the heavens. Finally he nodded.

“I have lived for nearly three thousand years. In that time, I have had many lovers. . .male and female. I have had many fledglings and loved them all very deeply. But in the latter part of the nineteenth century I met a woman. . .a very beautiful woman whom I desired to bring across and make my wife for all eternity. But, she did not want to become a vampire though she acknowledged that she did love me. She ran from me. By the time I found her, she had married and had children. A young daughter that was. . . as beautiful if not more so than her mother. Gentle minded, sweet natured. . .she had a lovely voice. I realized then that If I could not have the mother then I would have the daughter. At the time I was trying to bridge a gap between mortals and vampires. UNCLE was still in its infancy and I had to leave for a brief time to insure its creation. When I returned for the girl. . .she had vanished. I finally tracked her down in a concentration camp in Neningar.”

He paused, his voice filled with pain and grief. “I helped her to escape. . .all the while knowing she bore someone else’s child. A child that could have been mine. That should have been mine!”

Napoleon couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He shook his head, his rage disappearing and dread and fear in its place.

“I wanted her to stay with me, to come with me but she wanted to return to her parents for a time. She wanted to take care of her child, even though she wasn’t sure what to; do she still took responsibility for the growing baby inside her. Fascinating, to be used as a guinea pig and have an unwanted pregnancy. Yet she loved the child at once. I knew then that I couldn’t at that time make her mine. So knowing who and what I was, I made her promise that until her child reached eighteen she would marry no one and then allow me to bring her across and make her my wife. . .eternally. She agreed and I-I -I let her go. If I had only known. I would have brought her across and damn the child inside of her. . .” Shaking his head, Waverly turned to Napoleon; his eyes misted over, and a drop of blood slipped past his cheeks.

“I was there when Illya was born. I was the second person that held him, in my arms, I fell in love with him then and there. I was glad that I allowed her to have this child. I waited and by her wishes stayed away, for the future and the time, when I would have my wife and my own child. Even then I planned to bring Illya across. . .after all, his mother would have eternity, he should too. Then came the accident. I thought that the entire Kuryakin family had been killed. I did not know Illya survived. Not until he was in the KGB and I found the top secret files.”

Waverly stopped and stared at Napoleon apologetically.

“I do care for you Napoleon, Please know that. You are very special to me, you always have been. But, Illya is all that I have left of Ana and Ana’s daughter. He is the last of her legacy. It must live on and it must live on by me.”

Napoleon shook his head. “You lied to me. . .all of it was a lie? All to get your hands on Illya? What did you intend to do to him? Turn him into your slave? Your catamite?”

Waverly swung, back handing Napoleon across the face. The force of the impact sent him into the nearby brick wall. Waverly stood over the stunned fledgling and tried to regain control of his temper.

“I’m sorry. However, this is how it will be. We will return to UNCLE in a few days and you will see Illya of course, but refrain from any romantic interludes. You will tell him what you have become and that he must also be brought across so you both can be together. You will convince him that you are uncertain and unwilling to take the great risk of harming him and that he should come and ask me to do it for you. I will graciously think about it, seek advice and then. . .I will agree. It will be done Napoleon. You will do this for me? Won’t you?” He ended the last sentence with a low, commanding voice that would not allow any disobedience to his long awaited plans.

***

Part 6

UNCLE had been some assistance. With the help of New York’s finest; LaCroix, Vachon and Nick found the missing van in a nearby park. Opening the van, Nick and LaCroix were not surprised to find two corpses that were certainly the men who had taken Illya earlier that evening. They had, however, been surprised that both had been drained of their blood. Who ever had taken Illya was surely a vampire.

***

LaCroix stood quietly in the park gazing fondly at the stars. Nick watched his master solemnly for a moment while Vachon continued to ransack the van to see if he could find any clues. After a moment he walked over to his master.

“LaCroix. What is it? Do you sense something?”

LaCroix paused and shook his head. “I am not sure, I suddenly feel. . . something.”

Nick saw that his creator seemed heavily burdened.

“What feeling?”

“I am not sure. . .I haven’t had a feeling like this in a long time. Centuries. A feeling of sadness. Despair. Not coming from me, or you. . .Janette. Not any of my children. Or is it?”

Nick swallowed and nodded. “Illya? You can sense Illya?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

Angry at the confusion he was facing, LaCroix turned to Nicholas and clenched his fists.

“It is gone now. I feel nothing. As it should be.”

Nick lowered his eyes, unable to face the ancient’s gaze.

“I’ll come back to you.” He swallowed and his voice cracked in emotional pain.

“Just please, don’t kill Illya, or make him one of us. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves a life of freedom. For several months we were lovers and in that time, I tasted his blood and through it his life; his horrible life, father. He has only started to taste freedom. I think he would be consumed in this vampire life. This enslavement that we are condemned to for all eternity.”

“Is that how you see our relationship, our past? Slavery and nothing more? Have I been so cruel to you?”

Nick silently looked into those depths and shrugged.

“Sometimes, many times. You always made the decisions, you’re always the one in control, always your way, always your will. Never once do you ask what I think. What I feel. What I want.” He paused and sadly turned away from his master. “Once you asked, once you cared for my opinions, once you even loved me. A little. Then, for some unknown reason, you cast me aside. I know you don’t love me anymore, that the only reason you follow me is to have someone to torment. I will come back to you, if you let Illya go. I could not bear to see him suffer like I do. He deserves to be loved. Napoleon will love him, and cherish him always. At least. . .in this cold world two people could live in happiness and love.”

LaCroix was stunned. He looked on at his child and thought he was looking at a stranger. Then he felt something he had thought he would never feel again, something he promised himself he would never feel again. Sorrow. Pity. Compassion.

“Nicholas, I do not follow you to torment you. Why can you not believe that I love you, that all I wish is to be with you, to have eternity with you by my side? How can you believe that I do not care for you?”

Nick looked at his master with pain filled eyes. “You told me to go! You beat me and told me never to come back! That you never wanted to see me again.”

“NO!” LaCroix reached for him, embracing him tightly in his arms. “No, oh no Nicholas, no. I am sorry my child. I only sought to protect you. I did not mean for you to think that I did not love you anymore.”

A bewildered by this, Nick pulled away from the embrace and stared deep into LaCroix’s eyes.

“In Rome, you told me to leave. I don‘t understand?”

LaCroix swallowed, unable to speak another word, knowing only one true way for his son to accept and believe the truth was through the blood exchange. At once he unbuttoned his black shirt, and Nick followed suit. Their eyes glowed and then each struck. LaCroix latched on to Nick’s throat with Nick doing the same. Blood filled their mouths and with it came the memories and the truth.

With truth, came sadness, sorrow, and finally a reunion.

Nicholas gently removed his fangs from his master’s throat and licked the wound closed. His Master doing the same to him. Once done, they both looked at each other silently. Each coming to a new level of understanding.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Nick asked softly, this time with out sounding accusing.

“Pride.” Was LaCroix’s only response.

Shaking his head, Nick embraced his Master, his father and this time held him in a loving embrace, which after a moment LaCroix returned. “Pride, indeed!”

“Ah, excuse me. Sorry to interrupt the long awaited father and son reconciliation, but ah, I think I found something!”

***

Napoleon refused to feed. He only bowed his head and stared unseeingly outside the stretch limo. Waverly finally conceded and put the glass of human blood down on the bar. Picking up the phone, he made a call to UNCLE HQ. “This is Waverly, patch me through to Welby. Welby? Alexander. I will be returning this late evening and I wish to have Kuryakin. . . what? What did you say? When?”

The change of Waverly’s tone pulled Napoleon back from the depths of despair and watched as his new Master slammed the phone back into place. After a moment he reined in his anger and confronted his fledgling. But Waverly didn’t have to say anything. Napoleon already knew.

“Illya’s missing isn’t he?”

***

Part 7

“You’re awake at last. How are you feeling Mr. Kuryakin?”

“A bit hungry, and thirsty and I would like to have my clothes back please.”

The man nodded indulgingly at his patient and proceeded to snap up a long syringe and a bottle filled with a liquid. Illya tried not to flinch as the man approached him.

“After I give you this, I will see to it about getting you something to eat and drink. As for your clothes the mistress was quite specific that you were to remain. . .unencumbered.”

Tapping the needle to remove any necessary bubbles, he swabbed a small area on the Russians right arm and injected the contents into his arm.

“What is that you’re giving me?”

“Oh nothing to concern yourself with Mr. Kuryakin. Just a little drug to make you a little more relaxed. The next procedure may upset you greatly and we want to make sure you don’t suffer unnecessarily.”

“How kind.” Illya bitterly replied sarcastically. “May I ask who you are and what exactly is this procedure?”

“I am Doctor Livingston. I have worked with Doctor Kempacuff several years ago. I researched much of her late father’s work. Extradinary man with a genius mind I must say. As for the procedure, I am not sure you would really understand the technique parts of the operation.” Illya cringed at the word operation. “However, to put it simply, I am going to remove some special cells from your body, as well as some blood, sperm, and of course a few skin tissues.” Discarding the needle and placing the vials on the counter, the man returned to gaze at his patient.

Illya swallowed hard.

The man patted the Russian’s arm reassuringly. “Don’t worry, nothing that will cause you any injury and if you are very good and keep still there will be very little pain and discomfort.”

With that the man removed the one sheet and gazed longingly at his patient’s body.

“Hmm, Helen was right. You have quite the physique. “

Seeing the redness in the young man’s face he hastened to add. “Nothing to be embarrassed about young one, nothing at all.” He then progressed with his work.

***

Stingers

Shrugging, the two younger vampires bowed to his wishes. As they approached the club a loud roar went up and seconds later a large bouncer stepped out holding tightly onto what looked like a biker, and threw him out onto the pavement. “And stay out you *&@#@ jackass straight boy!”

Nick and Vachon glanced at the ancient master once more as the hulky jackass quickly took to his heels.

On entering the bar, the first thing that Nick noticed was that the clientele were all men. Not one woman was in the room. Now moving slightly closer to LaCroix, the two young vampires suddenly realized what kind of club they were in.

LaCroix reached the bar and stared at the bartender, waiting for his attention. Confronting LaCroix, the bartender nodded solemnly.

“What can I get for you?”

“I am looking for a particular woman.”

The bartender chuckled lightly, shaking his head. “Sorry mister, you are on the wrong side of the tracks and wrong place for a woman. Why don’t you go to Greenwich village? I hear this new club called the Raven may be just what you might be looking for.”

Pausing in his conversation with the bartender, LaCroix met the man head-on, his face turning into the customary expression that sent most mortals cringing in terror.

“These two are with me. I suggest you go find some other form of amusement.”

The man only chuckled and reached over at Nicholas and fingered one of his long blond locks. Nick wasn’t sure what to do, whether to attack or leave. He decided to do neither and remained stock still.

“Two huh? Well I’m sure you’ll be far to busy with the long haired hippy to bother with this one, so while you neglect him, I’ll entertain Golden boy.” He flashed a grin revealing two long teeth. He was a vampire, but was not that old.

LaCroix determined that he couldn’t be more then three hundred years into his immortality. he had to fight to keep himself from tearing the younger vampire apart. Nicholas could easily take him, after all, Nick was far older and more then capable of protecting himself, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that this upstart just touched LaCroix’s creation, his property, his child, in front of the Ancient master. That consequentially called for some action. One Lucien LaCroix, a proud general of the Roman Empire, was more than willing to carry out.

LaCroix growled, his fangs dropping into place, his eyes flashing. Bringing down his shield, he allowed this stranger to feel his aura and his age of two thousand years. The younger vampire suddenly blanched and backed away from the Ancient master.

“Your creator should have taught you some manners. I suggest, you return to him little one before you get hurt.”

The biker vampire lowered his eyes automatically, heading for retreat. “I’m sorry I did not realize.”

“Next time you will!” After his departure, LaCroix glanced at Nicholas to see his annoyed expression.

“I could have dealt with him, LaCroix.”

Shrugging, LaCroix returned to deal with the bartender to see that the man was eyeing him with much greater respect. Good.

“What kind of lady you looking for?”

“Her name is Doctor Helen Kempacuff. I seek an audience with her at once. She has something that belongs to me and I want it back.”

“She’s not here right now. I haven’t seen her since yesterday.”

“Do you know where she lives or where she is staying?” LaCroix asked quietly.

The bartender suddenly gasped as he finally placed the face and voice of the vampire.

“Hey, aren’t you that Nightcrawler guy on CERK? Man, you are just-”

He was cut off when a large hand reached in and grabbed him by the collar and pulled him half over the counter. To press the point home, LaCroix smashed his head onto the metal counter twice. Staring up dazed, the bartender saw two angry looking, golden eyes glaring down at him. When LaCroix spoke it was in such a fierce deep growl that nearly all the patrons in the place decided to make a hasty retreat themselves.

“Now that I have your undivided attention, I will ask only one more time before I start breaking some bones. Starting with your neck. Where is she!”

“I don’t know where she-she is staying, but there is a guy she has been spending time with. He’s upstairs right now. His names Timothy. Room sixty six. Please don‘t hurt me.”

Glad that the more physical approach got the results he needed, LaCroix released him and headed for the stairs, not even giving the frightened bartender a backwards glance. Nick and Vachon quickly followed him.

“You know I could have taken him!” Nick grumbled in LaCroix’s ear as they reached the top floor. “I’m not a helpless fledgling!”

LaCroix only waved his hand for Nick to be silent. Closing his mouth, Nick glowered furiously. He would have to talk to LaCroix about this later. And there would be a later!

Stopping in front of Room sixty six, LaCroix didn’t waste time knocking but slammed open the door. For a moment they thought the room was empty until the sound of weeping was heard.

Vachon moved in, finding a small heap in the corner of the room.

It heard them enter and opened his eyes. Blood tears fell unceasingly down his cheeks. Staring at the three strange men, he whimpered in a lost child-like voice.

“Please, tell Helen I don’t want to be a vampire, make her turn me back. Please! Please!”

Lowering his head into his arms, he began to sob even harder.

Vachon and Nick both looked down at the newly born vampire and felt a wave of pity and compassion overwhelm them. Before LaCroix could reach in and try to get some information from the new born, Nick bent down and laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Timothy?”

The young one looked up and two more drops of blood fell from his eyelids. Timothy couldn’t have been more then twenty one years old. He had a mop of long brown hair and light brown eyes. Huddled on the floor, he almost looked sixteen.

“Timothy Randal. . .” The terrified boy said, “Are you a friend of Helen? Will you ask her to turn me back? Please? I can’t live like this? I can’t!” He held himself close and shivered. The hunger was in his eyes. It was obvious he had yet to feed.

Nick was furious. How could this woman be so callous? LaCroix was right, the younger generation these days had no understanding and comprehension of what it is to bring a mortal across. It is something that is not suppose to be taken lightly or by a mere fancy or whim. A Master vampire seeks for years, even decades, to find the perfect candidate. Then the real challenge is not in bringing one over but afterwards. When vampires are born their needs are like that of an infant. They require constant guidance and attention. In most cases, fledglings do not mature enough to go on their own for at least three to four centuries. Some never did and were always kept under the protection of their Masters. Nick knew although LaCroix could be harsh and cold to his own fledglings, he was always there to protect and look after them.

In olden days an unprotected fledgling who may have lost his or her master or was abandoned, was often tracked down and killed by renegade vampires. As for infants, ones like Timothy, if they should lose their master days after being brought across, often they do not live long. They either ended their own lives by walking into the sunlight, or went mad and someone else had to destroy them.

In some instances a kinder and older vampire might be persuaded to adopt and take in the lost fledgling, but very few did. As Nick recalled, most Master Vampires preferred to select their own companions. In the cases when a Master vampire did take on a lost fledgling, it was because it was from their own line, perhaps one of their own fledglings who brought one across and somehow was killed. Many young vampires were turned away and died horribly.

Javier Vachon was an exception. Vachon had lost his female master one day after his creation. For some reason, Vachon managed to live through the abandonment and loss. In the past four hundred years Vachon had lived a life of wandering the earth in isolation, never a part of a community of Vampires, nor has he taken on any new fledglings. Although Nick was sure that Javier had friends somewhere, the Spaniard seemed hell bent on not being encumbered by anyone and traveled the world alone.

Nick was sure that he, himself wouldn’t have survived if LaCroix had abandoned him or had somehow perished. In those early centuries Nicholas had been a lost lamb and would easily have been slaughtered. Of course, Nick never had to face that. LaCroix had always been nearby. He had been everything to the young Nicholas. A teacher, guide, friend, father, lover but most and above all a fierce protector. Nick remembered when a young vampire, of Greek origins, had made the mistake of trying to rape Nick during his first year as an immortal. LaCroix had been outraged and managed to not only prevent the attack, but had ceased the foolish vampire’s existence.

Somehow the word got around that Nicholas de Brabant was not to be touched, and no one ever dared lay a hand on him again. Although LaCroix’s protection could be smothering and overbearing it also warmed him inside. Nick knew without a doubt, even after all these centuries of war between them, that he indeed had his Master’s eternal protection.

Returning to the present, Nick gazed sadly at the young fledgling and shook his head. He glanced at LaCroix pleadingly to be gentle with the boy. Then backing away, he allowed his Master to move forward.

“Get up!” LaCroix ordered. The fledgling obeyed already shaking under the ancient’s gaze. “Stop your tears at once and stand straight!” Timothy obeyed, the fear pouring off his body. “Do you know who I am?”

Timothy shook his head and sniffed as another blood tear fell.

“I am Lucien LaCroix.”

The boy continued to look at him in confusion.

“I want to know where Kempacuff is. . . Tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Timothy whimpered and quickly covered his face and head with his arms as LaCroix threatened to strike him.

Nick prepared to intervene but Vachon held him back with a glance. Nick begged LaCroix mentally to try to be kind to the new born.

Receiving the message, LaCroix softened a little and lowered his hand.

“Can you tell me where you might think she would be? A place she may of spoken to you about?”

The boy sniffed and nodded, lowering his hands to his sides. “I only met her a few days ago. She-she promised me a place to stay and eat if I would do what she asked. I obeyed her. I did everything she asked of me. She wanted to try bringing someone across to see if she could do it. . .I told her I didn’t want to be a vampire but she only laughed. Then I woke up here and she was gone! Please, please help me!” The boy flew to the Ancient and threw his arms around him begging for aide.

Greatly annoyed at the newly created vampire’s audacity, LaCroix pushed him off and glared down at him furiously.

“Think! Did she say any place? Any name? Anything that we could use to find her?”

Timothy wept and lowered his eyes shaking his head sadly. Then he looked up and nodded.

“Yes, she said something about a warehouse, ah no, an old abandoned clinic, she was to meet someone there and that she was going to collect someone special, someone that would help her get revenge on the man who killed her father. That’s all I remember.”

LaCroix started to leave, and Timothy fell to his knees, becoming hysterical.

“Please don’t leave me! Not like this! Save me! Oh God please!”

LaCroix turned, his eyes determined to carry out the dark judgment. He would have to end the boys life. It would be merciful and quick. But as LaCroix prepared to move Nick stepped in front of him.

“Father. You can’t.”

“Nicholas, look at him!” LaCroix waved his hand at the pathetic form. “You know that I intend to kill Kempacuff and even if I don’t she will not return to care for her fledgling. It will be better to simply end his life. He didn’t get to choose, he was forced to become a vampire. It is just not done.” True, since the beginning of time a Master vampire always instructs the one to be brought across that it has to be free of choice, otherwise the results would be madness. Although Nick soon regretted the choice of becoming a vampire he had been given the choice. Timothy hadn’t.

“We could find him a new master.”

LaCroix scoffed at his sensitive child.

“Who? What master would want to take on this labor? I know of no one that would. Even if I do spare his life and he doesn’t manage to go mad, he will not survive more than a year perhaps two without protection.”

“You could adopt him.”

The Ancient should have seen that coming and, recovering from his shock at the suggestion, stubbornly shook his head.

“NO! Absolutely not! I already have my hands full with you and Janette and soon with Illya. That is enough. I will deal with no other fledgling, certainly not one with someone else‘s blood in their veins!”

“Fine then, I will take him!” Nick replied just as obstinately.

The Ancient vampire stared at him in pure aggravation. “You can’t even keep goldfish alive. How do you even pretend to be able to care for a distraught fledgling?”

“I can do it!”

“Utter nonsense. Tell me truly Nicholas are you really prepared to look after this fledgling for perhaps the next thousand years? Feed him, clothe him, guide him, teach him, and most of all spend all of eternity looking after him? You can’t even make a commitment, never mind take on the responsibility of a master. Use your head instead of your heart for once. Do you think I am without emotion for this one’s plight? Do you think that it will please me to take its life?” LaCroix waited and watched as Nicholas looked closely at his master.

“No.”

“No indeed, I will not take pleasure in it, but it is for his own good. Understand Nicholas, If I do not the Enforcers will. The Council does not take kindly to orphaned fledglings. They are too much of a risk. I will make it quick and painless. Now go outside and wait for me.” Nick paused preparing to argue, but knew it was useless. Unable to look at Vachon, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

LaCroix stared down at the still weeping, shaking and frightened child and shook his head. No, he would not take pleasure in this at all. Before he could make a move, Vachon stayed his hand.

“I’ll take care of him. You go ahead and see if you can find this Doctor. Go!”

The Ancient stared at the Spaniard and raised an eyebrow. Vachon sighed.

“You said I could have anything I want, although I was going to ask for a brand new bike to travel, I guess I can move up to taking on a fledgling.”

“You are a child yourself, Vachon. Do you realize what you are about to take on?”

“Yes, I am.” The young vampire slowly moved to the newly born and wrapped his arms around him, shushing him softly. Pulling the young one closer he allowed Timothy to lay his head on his broad shoulders. “It’s going to be a long, long thousand years.” But for the first time in four hundred years, Vachon’s emotions had been moved and the Spanish vampire knew that he would at least try to help the new vampire in its transition.

He might fail; he would probably fail, but if that did happen at least Javier tried. Why not him? He was left by his Master, abandoned to a cold and harsh world with no one to look out for him. Two orphans drawn together. Kissing the fledgling’s brow he hushed the child softly, rubbing his back consolingly. As for learning to love the fledgling, that wouldn’t take long. Vachon already felt a stirring of emotions within. Yes, he would care for this child and in time he would even come to love him.

LaCroix smiled and shook his head. “Very well, but if you change your mind?”

Timothy clung to the older vampire and wept softly in his new master’s arms.

Vachon looked at LaCroix and shook his head in determination.

“I won’t.” Vachon then softly whispered into the young vampire’s ear. “You have my eternal protection.” He then presented his wrist to the starving vampire who at once bit into the flesh and began to drink the life giving blood that would soon bond them. Vachon smiled, his eyes glowing brightly at the erotic sensations that enveloped him.

Leaving Vachon privacy with his new adopted child, LaCroix rejoined Nicholas who couldn’t help having listened in on the conversation. He smiled at LaCroix affectionately, glad that his master had not carried out his judgment.

When they reached outside the bar Nick touched LaCroix’s arm gently. Turning, LaCroix was suddenly embraced in a brief but tight hug. “Thank you Master.” Nick whispered.

Then releasing his hold, Nick took to the sky. The Ancient paused only for a moment and then followed his son into the air.

***

Part 8

Nick had lived in New York for several years and knew the city well. It took him only a few moments to remember that there were two recently closed clinics in the near by area. Pausing for a moment, Nick and LaCroix allowed themselves to use their gifts as Immortals and tried to pin point the presence of any new born vampires in the area that were in the direction of the clinics. LaCroix felt a tingle in the air and smiled, then sprang into action. Nick quickly flew after him.

***

She purred into the blond’s ear. “Hmm Delicious.” Illya felt dizzy and weak. The doctor had taken more blood samples. In the meantime Doctor Kempacuff had taken a few sips of the young one’s blood.

“Your blood is the purest I have tasted so far in my still so young existence. So sweet. You remind me of orchids Illya. Did you know that each mortals blood and scent is unique?”

Illya shook his head and tried to move away from the female vampire but found he couldn’t move more than a few inches. The straps held him securely. If only he had some UNCLE gadget to help him out of this situation. But Illya had no explosive tooth cap, none of his picks nor a self cutting knife watch. He was completely helpless.

The doctor returned, holding firmly onto a small vial that was labeled with a letter A on it.

“I have it Mistress! I have it! Now all we need is a willing host and soon we will have our army of superior beings.”

“I take it then that this one is no longer of use as a mortal?” questioned the female.

“No.”

“Good, now I can bring him across.” Her eyes brightened and her fangs lengthened.

“I shall enjoy having you as my slave for all eternity!”

Illya flinched and prepared for the penetration, when a sudden explosion from above stopped her.

The skylight glass was shattered and two figures flew downwards into the center of the room.

The doctor turned and was about to reach for his gun when Nick grabbed him by the throat. The doctor was so startled that the vial smashed onto the floor along with the gun, splattering its contents.

He tried to scream, but Nick only tossed him against the wall with all his strength. The hard impact broke the Doctor’s neck.

LaCroix, who had watched this, scowled. “oh, Nicholas! What have I told you about wasting one’s food.”

Turning away from his son, LaCroix stared at Doctor Kempacuff, who was poised over Illya, her long nails clinging to Illya’s throat.

“One move and I will kill him! I will snap his neck in two!”

LaCroix raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly.

“Let the man go. It is I that you wish to kill, not he. So, let’s get on with it.”

The woman glared at him in pure hatred.

“You murdered my father!”

“Yes, I admit it freely, I killed Doctor Kempacuff, and believe me, I did regret it. The inferior blood took days to digest.”

Trying to arouse her in rage, LaCroix knew he hit a sore point when her eyes flashed red.

So he continued.

She shrieked and attacked, her nails and fangs going for his throat.

But LaCroix was ready for her and grabbed her roughly by the arms, and made sure she kept her fangs from connecting to any of his flesh.

“I hate you! I HATE YOU!”

She hissed and spat, and tried desperately to attack him but LaCroix had the edge. He was older than she was and stronger.

His eyes flashed angrily and he flew into the air and slammed her into the nearby wall, all while managing to hold her in place. She screeched and bucked to get free but LaCroix had an iron grip on her.

Then suddenly he moved in closer, and whispered into her ear.

“You should have thanked me for killing him my dear. He was a murderous man who took great pleasure in killing your own mother.”

“LIAR!” She spat back as she continued to fight him. “My mother died from a mortal disease!”

“No, she died by his hand. I saw it in his blood as I drained him. You do not understand my dear, but you will open your mind and remember that was not the only crime he committed. The torture and cruelty he dealt to his fellow mortals and the indifference towards his own daughter.”

She burst into tears of rage and she began fighting with all her strength to break free from LaCroix. But he continued to hold her.

“You know it’s true! Remember!”

She stared deep into the ancients eyes and with it came the memories. Then she screamed

and LaCroix released her.

She hit the floor, falling to her hands and knees.

LaCroix flew to his children’s side. Nicholas had untied Illya and had wrapped him in a blanket, carrying the unconscious form, in his arms.

Turning to face Helen Kempacuff, LaCroix could see the first few rays of sunlight starting to appear. Backing away, LaCroix retreated into the darker rooms without windows, pulling Nicholas and Illya Kuryakin with him.

Looking back, LaCroix watched as the sunlight rays came into the room. Helen did not even try to flee. She remained on her knees moaning at the pain filled memories of her past. Even as the sunlight touched her flesh, even as she started to smolder, she did not try to run. Seconds later she burst into flames.

Afterwards, all that was left in the room was the debris of lab equipment, one male corpse and a handful of ash on the floor.

***

Nick called UNCLE HQ and soon a specialized windowless van came to pick them up.

That night, Nick and LaCroix stood in the medical room watching Natalie Lambert look over her patient. After checking Illya’s stats, she looked up at the two anxious immortals and smiled softly in reassurance. “He’s going to be okay. He just needs lots of rest.”

She had just finished speaking when Waverly and Napoleon came into the room. Napoleon didn’t even bother to ask Illya’s condition, he simply ran over to the bed, and clutched the limp hand into his own. His eyes filled with worry and concern.

“Illyuska. . .I’m here, I’m here. Illya please wake up!”

Natalie gently touched his shoulder to get the dark man’s attention.

“He’s going to be fine Napoleon. He just needs to sleep for a little while. You can stay with him if you want to.”

Backing away, she watched the four men gather around the sleeping mortal. Shaking her head, she smiled knowing that Illya’s future was not going to be an easy one. It would however be filled with a lot of overly protective vampires. Putting down her report, Natalie left the room.

***

But still he was tired, very tired.

“Napasha?”

Opening his eyes he smiled to see two blue eyes looking strangely at him.

“Illyushka. . .Are you ok?”

“I-I, where am I?”

“UNCLE medical.”

“The doctor?”

“Dead, both of them. You’re safe now.”

Illya made to sit up but Napoleon put a hand gently on his chest and held him down.

“No, you need to rest. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“How did I get here?” Illya asked giving in to Napoleon’s orders.

“Nick and his father found you. They brought you in. They went with Waverly to get some rest. It’s about noon.”

“Oh,” Illya smiled. “So that’s why I’m so hungry. I suppose you couldn‘t whip me up one of my favorite Italian dishes or perhaps call out for some Chinese food?”

Napoleon laughed, his worry disappearing. If Illya was hungry then he was most certainly going to be all right.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He got up, preparing to go get Illya something to eat when Illya reached for his hand. At first Illya smiled and then stopped.

“Napasha you’re cold.”

His hand went from Solo’s hand and straight to Napoleon’s wrist. Napoleon felt the pressure point and knew what Illya was just starting to find out.

“I’m a vampire, Illya.”

Illya looked up at him with shock filled eyes.

“Waverly offered me the choice.” He wanted to say more, to tell Illya that they were going to have to run away or try to escape. That Waverly wanted to turn the Russian into a vampire too. But he stopped, when he felt the familiar presence enter the room.

Napoleon didn’t have to turn to know Waverly had stepped into the room.

“Why? Napasha? Why did you want to become a vampire? Certainly not because of Nick?”

Napoleon shook his head and swallowed.

“Why then?”

He tried to speak, but in the end Napoleon only lowered his eyes, preparing for the rejection.

“That’s why you asked me that question. Before you left? You asked me if I would miss the light? You had already decided that you wanted to become a vampire? You wanted to know if I wanted to become one too?”

Napoleon did not deny it.

Illya’s eyes narrowed, his anger becoming apparent in his voice.

“Did you also know that I’m a freak, and that I’m a half breed? Did you know that my father was Lucien LaCroix.”

“I found out a few days ago.”

“And you never told me!” Illya sat up, his hands now clenched at his sides, balled into fists.

Illya turned his anger at Waverly. “You knew all along and you didn’t tell me?”

“It was necessary.”

“Necessary? Why was it necessary to keep me in the dark? Why did you not tell me who I was? Who my father was?”

“At the time, secrecy was important for your safety.”

Illya swallowed and, getting his nerve, stepped into the room.

For a long time they just stared at each other. Finally, LaCroix rose, breaking the silence.

“I take it you would like to talk to me?”

Illya numbly nodded.

“I would like to speak to you as well. I am finished for this evening. Perhaps you would join me for dinner?” LaCroix asked.

Feeling his spine tingle, Illya gave in and nodded his consent. Closing up for the night, LaCroix moved outside to the waiting limo. Illya paused, unsure if LaCroix had somehow known his mortal son would come to him and had prepared for the event. Feeling a bit uneasy, Illya got into the limousine with the ancient vampire.

The Ancient raised one eyebrow at the young man and then turned away, smiling.

Twenty minutes later, in up state in New York, the limo stopped in front of the exclusive Russian restaurant. Not sure that he was dressed properly, Illya gave LaCroix a concerned look, but the elderly vampire simply waved his hand and walked ahead. The waiter who saw them coming knew instantly who they were and ushered them upstairs to a private room that had been reserved for this evening.

Once seated, LaCroix allowed the Russian to place his order. In return, LaCroix ordered a very expensive imported wine. After the waiters departure, LaCroix patiently waited for the mortal to speak. It didn’t take long.

“Did you know that I existed?”

“I knew about you only two weeks ago, and I was forbidden to see you.”

“Waverly?”

“Da.” When next LaCroix spoke it was to Illya’s surprise in fluent and beautifully-spoken Russian. Illya recognized the vampire’s attempt to make him more comfortable by switching to his native tongue. Illya nodded and spoke back to him in fluent French and Italian. For a time they spoke of special wines and vineyards in Europe, and after the waiter returned with Illya’s meal and LaCroix’s wine, they were again left in peace.

“Why did you want to conduct an experiment and create an offspring?”

LaCroix for a moment considered a gentle lie for the mortal, but instead he decided to tell the truth. “For a diversion, a game. I was bored at the time. Nicholas was still running from me, Janette had gone her own way and I was alone. I did not for one moment believe that Kempacuff would be able to carry out his experiment.”

Illya felt his heart grow heavy.

“A game? That is all I was to be?”

LaCroix shook his head and took a sip of his wine.

“As far as I knew Illya, you never came to be. I thought all the women had been killed.”

“But if you had known about me? What would you have done? Would you have killed me?”

The Ancient thought about it and finally he shrugged.

“I don’t know. I wish I could answer that, but truthfully I do not know. I only know how I feel and what I would like to do now.”

“Which is?”

“To make you a part of my family. To become my true son.”

“To become a vampire?”

“Yes, I know that Nicholas has given you all the negatives, but there are positives to becoming a vampire. You would never age, suffer disease and as my child, you would have my protection. Nicholas would even look out for you and. . . Janette; she would coddle you.”

“What about Napoleon?”

LaCroix shrugged indifferently. “He may come along if he so wishes, but my protection only extends to you. If he wishes to be a part of my family, he will have to remember my rule is law and I intend my rules to be obeyed.”

“What if I don’t want to become a vampire?”

“You have no choice. I have spoken to a council member and she was very forth coming. They told me that if you do not choose willingly to become one of us, your life will be forfeit on your 30th birthday. Neither I, nor Waverly, will permit that to happen and though it is not my wish to take you by force, if it is necessary, I will do it.”

Illya reached for his second glass of vodka and swallowed it down in one gulp. LaCroix, for a moment, prepared to stop the mortal from drinking so quickly and then decided against it. Illya had been through a lot these past few weeks and had yet to endure more.

“Waverly didn’t tell me anything about this. Not a word.”

“He wanted you for himself.” LaCroix stated, without gentling his tone. He was angry with Alexander, and if it were not for the fact that Waverly was a well loved member of the council, LaCroix would have killed the old bastard for all the turmoil he has caused. Even now, LaCroix did have some pity on Napoleon Solo, who was now bound to Waverly for eternity.

“Why?”

“Only he can answer that.”

“So I have no choice?”

“Actually you have several, Illya.”

Illya looked at the Roman general and sadly lowered his eyes.

“Will it hurt?”

LaCroix reached out and touched Illya softly on the cheek.

“A little, but it is like sex. . .its pain and pleasure all rolled into one.”

“Who should I choose to be my master? That is the only real choice I have. Nicholas, Waverly, Napoleon. . .you.”

“You should not ask me that, I am a bit biased you know. Since you are my mortal son I feel a sense of obligation towards you. A responsibility.”

“Nothing more?”

LaCroix softened his eyes and voice and shook his head. “No, Illya much more. You are my son. I have read all about you in Nicholas’s blood.” He nodded as he met Illya’s stunned eyes. “And I can tell you with one hundred percent certainty that my feelings for you run very deep. In time, I hope that you will return those feelings to me.”

“I am twenty eight years old. I have two years to make up my mind. I will consider your proposal.”

LaCroix reached out and took Illya’s hand into his own. His older hand stroked it softly and LaCroix had to keep a tight control on his hunger. Just the touch of the warm flesh, the beating heart and the scent of orchids filling his nostrils made Illya a tempting morsel.

“You are going to leave aren’t you?” Asked LaCroix.

“Just for a while, I need to go away and think.”

“Do you have a place to go?”

Illya shook his head, his eyes filled with pain and sadness.

Illya paused, unsure whether to accept his offer or turn him down. LaCroix smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. He handed Illya a set of keys and an envelope with instructions on where to go.

“When you return my son, I do hope that it is to me. I am your father and I wish to be the one to bring you across. With me as your father and creator. . .you would be protected and cherished. But I am a harsh master, as Nicholas has doubtless told you. I will not lie to you. I demand loyalty and nothing less then the best from my children. But I am fair, and I am not unjustifiably cruel. Illya. You would be loved and welcome in my family.” Saying no more, LaCroix rose from his seat and left. Alone at the table, Illya stared at the gold key in his hand.

***

Illya entered the apartment and knew at once that he was not alone.

“Illyushka?”

“Napasha.” Illya put on a light and saw Napoleon sitting in one of the sofa chairs. He could see the concern and pain in his lover’s eyes. Keeping eye contact, Illya softened his voice and his own pain.

“Please don’t hate me.” Said Napoleon.

“I don’t hate you.”

“But, you don’t love me anymore. You don’t want me anymore?” In a pain filled voice, Napoleon slumped his shoulders.

“It has nothing to do with not wanting or loving you, Napasha.” Illya was about to move forward to embrace Napoleon, then remembered what he was and that he was newly brought over. It would be like placing a lamb into the arms of a wolf. Napoleon would try to resist the blood lust but he would fail and the guilt he now suffered would be as bad as the guilt that Nick carried with him through all these centuries.

“I need time to think. I need time to come to terms with all of this. Just a little time.”

“You’re leaving?” Napoleon’s voice tinged on the edge of panic.

“Yes. For a while only. I will return.”

Napoleon rose from the sofa and, not caring, he threw his arms around his lover and held him in a near death like grip.

“Please forgive me, don’t leave me!”

“I forgive you.” Illya replied softly and held Napoleon in return. But in his position, Illya could not see the change in Napoleons eyes and the fangs that were slowly lengthening. The Beast was coming forth at the sound of the mortal’s heartbeat.

“I am not leaving you. I will return, but I need to do this. Please!”

“Let me come with you?”

“It would be too dangerous. You could lose control and you would never forgive yourself and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to hurt.”

“I’m already hurting.”

Illya broke the embrace and saw the state that Napoleon was in. Illya’s heart began to beat faster.

“Stay.” Napoleon begged his eyes slowly returning to the familiar and natural brown.

Illya picked up the nearby communicator pen and held it out.

“I’ll call you every day. When I’m ready I’ll come back. . .and it will be to you. Know that none of what has happened is your fault and that I do love you with all my soul. I love you Napasha.”

“I love you too.”

Illya smiled and putting fate aside, he moved in and embraced his lover in a deep kiss. Napoleon clung to that kiss, fighting down the waves of pain and arousal that shot through him. Then Illya turned and went into his room. He came out a few moments later with a small suitcase, and packed hurriedly, with his clothes and necessities.

Without looking back, Illya walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Napoleon waited until he could no longer hear the heartbeat of his lover and then sunk to his knees and wept.

***

Illya stood at the train station, waiting for the trail car to arrive. The sound of a woosh was heard and Illya did not look up to know that Alexander Waverly stood behind him.

“When will you return?”

“When I make up my mind.”

“When will that be?”

“I don’t know.”

“Napoleon is suffering terribly over this.”

“I know. So am I.”

“I did not mean to cause this.”

“Yes you did, when you took away my choice. When you took away all my options. When you brought Napoleon across. Now if I want a life with him I will have no choice but to become a vampire. And you know I want a life with him. Damn you to hell!”

Waverly lowered his eyes and nodded.

“That I am.”

Illya turned and finally stared at him.

“I want you to know this, and hear me well. I will choose to live, because I am a survivor. I will become a vampire, but I will not be brought across by you. Never by you!”

They heard the sound of the train as it slowly pulled up.

Illya waited for the passengers to disembark and finally made his way inside. Taking his seat, he glanced out his window to see Waverly watching and staring back at him. At his side was Napoleon. Illya turned away.

When Illya looked back, Waverly and Napoleon were gone. Leaning back against his seat, Illya closed his eyes fighting back the tears. But he wouldn’t cry, not here and not now. Later, when he was alone and safe. In LaCroix’s cabin. When he was truly alone, then and only then, would he cry. He would weep for Napoleon’s lost mortality, he would weep for the lost lives in the concentration camp so many years ago and then he would cry for himself.

***

Part ten

Nick stared at the medallion, his heart was heavily burdened with the decision he had to make. Should he throw the medallion away, or continue to try to unlock its secrets and find his mortality?

Holding it and wishing, Nick sought an answer to his dilemma. Then a thought occurred to him. Maybe; just maybe, the medallion didn’t work because he was a vampire. When it was wielded, it had been by Illya who was mortal. Perhaps that was why it wasn’t working. If so all he needed was a mortal. Natalie or Schanke would do. They could help him to regain his humanity!

A hand swept in and snatched the object from him. Nick looked up to see LaCroix sneering at the medallion. He hadn’t even felt his sires arrival.

“Is this what you think will take you from me?” Without looking back, LaCroix took to the sky.

“LaCroix, no!” Nick took off after him.

The two vampires flew through the sky, the stars twinkling brightly above them.

The chase ended with LaCroix arriving at a steel mill just outside the lower part of Manhattan. Angrily, he looked at Nick, all the while holding the medallion over a burning furnace of molten steel.

“Did you think I would allow you to be taken from me by this piece of rubbish?”

“Father please! It’s my only hope. Please! Don’t!” Nick moved slowly towards his master trying to reach for the medallion, but LaCroix only laughed.

“You are mine Nicholas, MINE do you understand? I will never let you go!”

Then, without hesitation, he dropped the medallion into the fire. Nick tried to grab it, but LaCroix played interference and held his son long enough for the medallion to sink into the hot lava, melting into nothingness.

Releasing Nick, LaCroix took a step back and watched as the young vampire stared down at the crucible in despair. The medallion was gone, along with his hopes and dreams.

“You will never be free of me! How many times must I tell you that? I will destroy anything and anyone who even dares to try!”

Nick turned and felt the blood tears in his eyes.

“How could you do this to me?” My Last Hope! He thought

“How could you do this to me?!” LaCroix returned. “I tell you I love you, I take care of you and protect you and still you reject me.”

“I didn’t reject you! Why can’t you see that I need to become mortal again, I can’t be like this anymore? It’s tearing me apart!”

LaCroix moved towards Nick and shook his head.

“No, being a vampire is not what is destroying you. What is destroying you is your guilt. Face up to it Nicholas. . .You are a killer, a predator. You’ve killed mortals for food! They are dead and they cannot be brought back to life.”

Nick closed his eyes and turned away all the while seeing the many faces of his victims in his mind. The pain struck deep into his heart. I’m a monster! He thought. A horrible monster.

It was only then that his master’s voice softened.

“Nicholas, Mon fils, let go of your guilt. They would have died anyway. Mortals lead such short lives. What difference does it make how they die? They die! They needed to die so we can live.”

“Maybe I don’t want to live anymore.”

Rising to his feet, Nick flew from the factory, LaCroix narrowed his eyes, trying to feel the bond they shared to sense what his child was up to. Then he read what was in the young one’s mind and all his fears came to the fore.

“NO!” LaCroix took to the sky trying desperately to reach Nicholas with his mind. Imploring, begging him not to carry out the deed. But Nick only flew onwards, and reached for his destination. It was late at night, and the store was closed. Shattering the window, Nick dropped onto the floor near the wooden furniture. Snatching up a chair, Nick spun it around and dislodged one of its wooden legs. Holding it up, he prepared to ram it into his chest.

“Nicholas! Mon Fils! No!”

But Nick was determined to end his pain and misery there and then. He raised it high and started downward in one clean stroke. LaCroix flew into the store and at once tackled his son, sending Nicholas to the floor and causing the make shift stake to go flying across the room. The alarm and security system in the place had been triggered and LaCroix knew if they didn’t get out of here at once they would be facing a night or two in jail at the very least for destruction of private property.

Grabbing his distraught child, he pulled the former crusader into his arms. Nick resisted at first, but finally exhausted and wracked with his guilt, he allowed the embrace. With the blood tears falling down his cheeks, LaCroix gently stroked his son’s back and pulled his golden head upon his shoulder. His panic and fear slowly fading and with it his anger. Taking in breaths, LaCroix tried to soften his voice, turning it almost into a plea.

“Nicholas. I love you, I cannot bear to lose you. Please, I’m sorry. Come back to me. I will ease your pain. We can go back to how it used to be. You do not have to kill anymore, I will never ask you to do that again. I will let you stay in UNCLE if you wish or do what ever you wish to redeem yourself. You can go on saving your precious mortal pets, if that is your wish. But do not seek to destroy yourself any longer and do not run from me anymore. I need you Nicholas. Please believe me, I need you! I love you.”

Swallowing, Nick held tightly to LaCroix; shocked and warmed by the words he had longed to hear. After a long moment of indecision, he finally nodded his head in consent. At long last he surrendered once more into the darkness. A darkness he now knew was a part of him and he would never leave.

Smiling in triumph and happiness, LaCroix pulled Nicholas even closer in his arms. Then turning the head slightly towards him, LaCroix bent down and kissed his golden child on the lips. The kiss started slowly and then soon became a full blown assault. Before LaCroix lost all of his senses, still clutching Nick in his arms, he headed for the sky.

They arrived at the Raven seconds later, heading into his private entrance. Once in his chambers, he carried Nick over to his bed, shedding clothing as he went. His lips still tightly pressed against the Knight’s mouth.

Somehow Nick found himself naked and on LaCroix’s velvet-covered bed.

Still clutching to LaCroix‘s shoulders Nick called out hungrily. “Lucien, Lucien.”

Nick tried to break free and get some breathing space but LaCroix only held him tighter, his arousal growing evident as his hard cock pushed against Nick’s thigh. Feeling his own heat, Nick clung to his master with an abandon, with a fire that had been smoldering for far too long.

“Mine!” LaCroix whispered into Nick’s ear, as he spread his legs apart. He rubbed gently and suggestively against Nick’s body. The Ancient master’s hands moved all over Nick’s body, he was touching and reclaiming his territory once more. The younger vampire moaned, at the sensual touches. Who said that vampires were cold? Any minute, Nick swore he would go up in flames.

LaCroix’s hand reached out for a moment to pull out a drawer and take out a small container. Uncapping it, he poured a small amount of lubricant and at once started smoothing it onto his cock and then to into Nicholas’ very tight and dry pucker. It had been such a long time. licking and nipping gently, LaCroix made his way slowly down the knight’s neck and collar bone.

Squirming, the crusader tried to figure out just how he had come full circle. How did his master drive him to such hatred and pain one moment and then pleasure and love the next?

All thoughts became lost when Lacroix thrust deep into his tight channel.

Nick cried out softly. It had been so long since he had been taken. It almost felt like the first time. Moving slowly and once he was sure Nick had adjusted to his penetration, LaCroix began to swivel his hips in an upward and back motion.

Nick’s prostrate was stroked and he was once again reminded what it felt like to be floating in space. His hands tried to reach for something, anything, to cling to. LaCroix directed the hands to the bed post and Nick hung onto like it was a life line. Spreading the younger vampire’s legs further he gave himself more leverage and room to bury himself deeper into the pliant body. Completely embedded, he pulled out almost completely and then sank himself back into the tight and now slick channel.

“Mine forever!” LaCroix whispered softly into the air. His head hung back, he was moving fast beyond ecstasy. His eyes were glowing and his fangs lengthened.

“Say it Nicholas!”

Nicholas instead tried to reach for his own member, now throbbing, needing release. But LaCroix only snatched the hand away, keeping him from touching it.

“Say it Nicholas!”

He fought then not to escape, but to get to his own cock and try to bring himself off, but LaCroix was much more powerful and held him still. Continuing the thrusts he brought the crusader even further into the abyss.

“You don’t need the sunlight Nicholas. Say it!”

“I-I don’t need the sunlight.” he gasped

“All you need is me. Say it!” He thrust hard into Nick’s body.

“All I need is you.”

“Tell me I am your master.”

“Master! Please!”

“Say your are mine Nicholas.”

“You are mine.”

LaCroix laughed. *Stubborn, Insolent pup! How I love you!*

He pulled out and waited. Nicholas sobbed and shook in need.

“I am yours, yours! Master. . . Please!”

He thrust in filling Nicholas completely. The Crusader cried out in pleasure.

“I love you Nicholas. Never forget that, I love you!”

Then in madness, the thrusting picked up its pace into a frantic frenzy. The bed creaked under the weight, and Nicholas felt himself spiraling into an abyss of fire.

“Lucien!”

Orgasm hit and LaCroix came down biting deep into Nicholas’s neck. The blood gushed into his mouth and he swallowed the sweet elixir. Nicholas bit back, burying his fangs into LaCroix's presented wrist. The blood flowed deep into their mouths and with it the orgasm hit then, wave after wave of sheer climaxes.

As the sensation slowly subsided, LaCroix released his hold and licked the wound until it closed. Tired and spent, Nicholas did the same.

The organ softened and slipped out of the slick wet hole. LaCroix lay down upon the bed and held Nicholas gently in his arms.

After what seemed like an age, Nick spoke.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. The medallion wouldn’t work for me so I was going to throw it away.”

“Well, then, I saved you the difficulty of discarding it.”

“You can be a real asshole sometimes LaCroix.”

“Thank you Nicholas. You also have the habit of being a real ass at times too.”

“Tell me you love me again.”

“I already told you, and besides it was in my blood.”

“Indulge me. I want to hear it.”

“Nicholas, you do try my patience.”

“Please Lucien.”

“I love you, Nicholas.”

“I love you. . .Master.”

LaCroix raised an eyebrow, slowly rising from the bed.

“You little wolf, if you keep this up, I swear, I will fuck you again!”

Nicholas smiled and whispered seductively into LaCroix’s ear. “Master.”

LaCroix pounced.

***

Long after the sunlight returned, Nick still clung to his lover and master’s arms. LaCroix, sensing something, opened his eyes and looked at Nick in concern.

“What is it Nicholas?”

“I was just thinking of Illya. Being all alone when he should be happy with Napoleon. I just can’t believe Waverly could have done this to them both. I should have guessed it. I should have realized. I didn‘t.”

“It was not your fault. Not even I was prepared for Waverly‘s deception. He is a sneaky, manipulative, old man.”

Nick smiled and looked at LaCroix.

“Oh, you mean like you?”

LaCroix looked at his child with an annoyed expression, but his eyes still danced with amusement.

“You do. . .try-my-patience.” The Ancient vampire replied drawing out each word.

Nick quickly changed the subject.

“It was kind of you to let Illya stay at the cabin. It makes me feel better knowing where he is and knowing he is safe. Just to warn you, Illya often gets himself into a lot of trouble.”

“Ah, Indeed, like you.” LaCroix replied softly, with a smug look on his face.

Nicholas waited, looking at him solemnly. “I’m serious, LaCroix.”

LaCroix shrugged carelessly. “I have some friends in the area. They will watch over him. If any problems arise they will contact me.”

“You do care for him, Don’t you?”

“Of course I do, he is my son. Do you think I do not?”

“I was worried.”

“Yes, I know. Do you still feel guilty my Nicholas?” Asked LaCroix, as he stroked the younger vampire’s chest and abdomen seductively.

“Yes. We also have much to talk about, things that need to be discussed.” Old wounds, their past was filled with a great deal of hatred and pain. Thought Nick.

“They say time heals all wounds, that and a little bit of love.”

but most and above all his Nicolas! He smiled, bathing in the knowledge of his son, who had returned to him. At long last!

“Lucien?”

“Yes, Nicholas.”

“Make love to me again, Master.”

LaCroix closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. Oh yes, this one was so very, very trying. But worth it!

***

Illya sat quietly in the cabin. The fireplace crackled and the candles burned brightly around the room. Rocking in the chair, Illya stared into the flames. He was lost in contemplation and missing the man that he loved. So much has happened in the past few days that seclusion from everyone and everything seemed to be the only right thing to do. But now, sitting here alone, Illya didn’t feel any different. He still felt confused, betrayed and very lonely.

Finally, after a long time, Illya pulled out his communicator and made the call.

A voice came on the other end almost instantly.

“Illya?” the voice asked, filled with pain and remorse.

“Hello Napasha.” Illya smiled, trying to ease that pain. He had never meant to hurt Napoleon, but at the time leaving was all he could do. He had to get away and have a chance to be alone and think. Why did Napoleon believe this was further punishment? Although Napoleon had fallen under Waverly’s thumb he was just as tricked and deceived. Worse was the fact that Napoleon now belonged to Waverly body and soul for all eternity. A part of Illya wanted to kill Waverly for this, but he knew that would not solve the problem nor would it help Napoleon.

“I miss you Napasha.”

“I miss you Illyushka. Come home.”

“Soon, just a little longer.”

. . .

“Can I come to you?”

Illya lost his smile. “I don’t think Waverly would like that.”

“To hell with Waverly. I need you. I need to see you, touch you, feel you. Please?”

Throwing caution to the wind, Illya surrendered.

“Then come!”

Illya waited for the connection to close, but just as it did the door to the cabin opened and a lone figure appeared. Illya didn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips.

In three long strides Napoleon dove into Illya’s arms, holding so tightly that Illya squirmed to get some air.

“Forgive me!”

“Napoleon, you followed me?”

“Yes, I did. I’m sorry.” He looked up into his lover’s eyes and smiled, not the least bit repentant.

“How have you been surviving?”

“Oh, I met a few friends along the way. They live nearby. They were ah very gracious.” He smiled and shrugged. “I was sure to eat before coming. I have a very full tummy right now. So can I have a little teeny weeny kiss?”

Illya chuckled and threw his arms around his lover and gave him a long, breathless one. Napoleon broke the kiss with his eyes glowing brightly.

Illya tilted his head at him. Even as a vampire he still looked beautiful.

“Sorry, haven’t learned to control the eye response thing. Yet.”

“I don’t mind. You look kind of cute with golden eyes.”

“Thanks. So, ah what happens now?” He asked, keeping his arms still locked around his lover just in case Illya decided to bolt on him. Illya shyly shook his head.

“I don’t know. I only know that I have two years before I have to become a vampire and I want that time to see the sunlight and bathe in it; to eat food and to be human. So many things I still want to do. I’m just not ready to give it all up.”

Napoleon lowered his head and nodded. “So we’re through?”

“No!” Illya reached for him and made his lover look deep into his eyes.

“What we have is just beginning. I only ask for time. That’s all, is that so much to ask for?”

“No, are you going to come back to UNCLE?”

“Eventually, not yet. I can’t deal with Waverly right now. I just can’t.” He then added.

“But I want you to stay with me. My friend, my partner. . . my lover.”

Napoleon nodded. “Do you know who you want to bring you across?”

Illya shook his head. “No, but I have two years to make that choice. I would rather it be you.”

“Waverly said fledglings are not supposed to bring others across. It’s against the rules.”

“Well, Maybe its time we broke a few of those rules. It is not like we haven‘t in the past?”

“But Illya, I don’t know if I can do it. . .successfully. If anything happened to you, I would die.”

Illya nodded. “I know, will think of something. Somehow, we will be together Napoleon. I love you.”

Napoleon smiled and kissed him gently on the lips.

“I love you too my white knight.”

Smiling, Illya rose and moved towards the bedroom his hand still clutched to Napoleon‘s.

“Illya.” Napoleon said wearily.

But Illya only shushed him with his fingers.

“But Illya, what if I. . .”

Illya shook his head. “You said you have a full stomach, and if worse comes to worst, there are several blood packs in the fridge. . .well, this is a vampire’s lodging, and ah you could give me a blood transfusion. Now come make love to me.” Releasing his hold, he turned and entered the bedroom being sure to throw a piece of clothing off at every step he made.

Napoleon waited only a moment, and then smiling, he followed in hot pursuit.

***

Epilog

Somewhere in Russia

A elderly man was reading over his notes when a knock came at his door. Looking up, he gave permission for the man to enter. The military officer saluted the General and handed him the top secret file.

Opening it, he read several lines and then smiled. He looked up at the officer in elation.

“At last we have found him. Prepare a small team, only those you are sure to be one hundred percent loyal to me. Then make preparations.”

“For what, General Sergi?”

“For a special trip to New York. The city that has something that belongs to me.”

The end?

NOPE, Still to come the final<Honest, This is it> installment The Last Sunset Affair

Illya will finally be brought across, but who will be his Master?