Part Three
At the last second Nick caught himself. He pulled away from Illya and cried out in anger as he fought his own desires. Gaining some semblance of control, he grabbed Illya and flew to the concrete walkway, pushing Illya away, he returned to the skies, fleeing as fast as he could.
�Nick!� Illya watched him disappear and, closing his eyes, silently prayed to the God of all that he would help Nicholas De Brabant. But in his heart, Illya knew that there was no one mortal or immortal that could save him. Nicholas was lost in a sea of darkness with no way out.
***
Janette was just closing up the bar when she felt the presence of her ex-husband. She could feel the tension and pain seeping in every part of his body. He was in complete turmoil. Unsure what had brought this on, she waited. When he arrived and came towards her she opened her arms and held him tightly against her. There he stood with his head upon her shoulders weeping like a lost child. She tried her best to console him but mostly she just allowed Nicholas to cling to her like a lifeline.
It was then that she remembered all that he had been to her and how much she still loved him. She had always loved him but after 97 years of marriage she had wanted more out of life and had gone her own way. Many times she was glad of her decision but at moments like these she regretted it. She had never meant to hurt Nicholas, but she was a selfish person and had desired greater things then he could give her. All Nicholas could give her was his love and devotion. But she wanted more, so much more.
�Oh Nicholas, my dearest Nicholas. Shhh, everything is going to be alright my darling.�
She took him to her chambers and waited for the pain to pass and once he fell asleep she quickly left the room to make a phone call.
LaCroix arrived a few moments later and leaving him to his distraught child, Janette quietly left.
***
Nick opened his eyes and immediately knew his master was with him. Looking to his left, he saw LaCroix holding a cup of blood in his hands and brought it to his child�s lips.
Nick turned away from it realizing it was human blood.
�You need to feed Nicholas. That is why you nearly made a snack out of my mortal son. As usual you allow your guilt to take away your caution and better judgment. You starve yourself almost to death and then feed only when you must, yielding to bovine blood only which is a poor substitute for human blood. It kills the blood lust but not the hunger. Now stop being stubborn.� But when Nicholas pulled away further LaCroix swore vehemently in his native language which brought Nicholas back to looking at his Master and lover in shock.
�Eight hundred years old and you still act like a child. No one was killed over this mere glass full of blood. We need not kill anymore, and I will never force you to, but you will feed!� With that LaCroix forcefully put it to Nicholas lips and dipped it into his mouth.
The smell of the human blood and its first taste on his lips caused Nick to lose all fight and he snatched the glass up into his hands and drank every drop. The hunger still pressing into him he waited expectantly and LaCroix quickly refilled the glass. After five refills Nicholas finally felt the hunger fade. Disgusted at his weakness and failings, Nick threw the glass into a nearby wall and covered his face with his hands.
�Nicholas, how many times must I tell you. You know the importance of being well fed. That was the first lesson I taught you. Without feeding the vampire loses the ability of thought and control.� Seeing that his words were not getting through, LaCroix gently stroked his pain wracked child�s back.
�I know what transpired between you and Kuryakin.�
�He wanted me to bring him across.�
�Yes.�
�I can�t.� Nicholas finally looked into his father�s eyes and shaking his head dived into his arms. LaCroix gently held him and sighed and tried again.
�Nicholas, you must let go of this guilt. If you continue it will destroy you. It will eat at you until there is nothing left. I love you too much to allow that to happen.�
Nicholas paused and looked up at LaCroix in confusion.
�Let me make you forget. Allow me to take that pain away from you. It is something I can do.�
But Knight only shook his head. �No, No I need it.�
�Why?� LaCroix asked at his wits end.
�Because it makes me different and keeps me apart from all the others.�
�It has also kept us apart.�
Nick released his master and lover and shook his head as he leaned against the pillows.
�Maybe that is what we need. To have some time away from each other.�
�No!� LaCroix reached for his child and grabbed him tightly by the wrists.
�Just for a little while. I need time to think. Please? I won�t run away and I will come back. I promise?�
LaCroix rose and turned away from his lover, gazing sadly at the wall.
�Very well Nicholas. One week.�
�Two.�
�One week.�
�We have forever, two weeks is not so much to ask.�
�ONE!� LaCroix growled back angrily. He would not bend in this matter. Left alone with his thoughts Nicholas was quite dangerous. Out of the longevity of Nicholas life, his young one, had at least three times tried to take his own life. LaCroix would not permit that to ever happen again.
�One then.�
�Where will you go?�
Nicholas shrugged. �Does it matter?�
�Yes, I want to know where you are.�
�The cabin. Ok?�
LaCroix nodded. �Acceptable.�
Getting to his feet, Nicholas moved to his master and put his arms around him. Surprised, LaCroix turned to his protege to see his eyes flashing gold.
�Tomorrow night I will leave. For now, I want the rest of tonight and the daylight to be spent with you. To remind me what I am missing.�
LaCroix nearly threw Nicholas onto the bed and just before he claimed Nicholas lips LaCroix vowed to make Nicholas know exactly what he would be missing.
***
(On the other side of New York-)
She knocked once and waited for the door to open. When it did she quickly glanced around the hallway and seeing it was empty slipped in side. The door closed and locked behind her.
He remained hidden in the shadows as she stood before him. He was seated by a darkened window and was looking out at the vast city as if fascinated by its lights and atmosphere.
�I was told to come here by my superiors. I am Doctor June Welsh.�
�Have a seat my dear.� The Man spoke with a thick Russian accent. Seating herself in the empty chair she produced a small briefcase onto the desk. Opening it, she pulled out several photos and placed them on the desk. The Man did not turn to look at them.
�This man, his name as far as we can tell is Nicholas Knight. He is an UNCLE agent and has been living in New York for the past two years. Other then that, the man is a total unknown. My superiors are very fascinated by his...unique gifts. We also have vital information on one Illya Kuryakin. He is known to us, and we are sure that these two special men will be beneficial to my project for THRUSH. We are willing to allow you to assist us..�
The Man chuckled, but still did not turn.
She looked back at the man with narrowed eyes. She didn�t like when men laughed at her. She didn�t like it at all.
�I am not going to be your assistant. The only reason why I allowed this meeting was because one of your high operatives use to work under me. He owes me a very big favor. I intend to collect.� He finally turned and the woman stared up into a dark face that had one long scar running from his left eye down into his top lip. It was obviously an old wound but it had clearly disfigured him for life.
�Then what is it you want?�
The General didn�t even flinch. �I will head the project Doctor Welsh, and when the time comes...Illya Kuryakin will be mine, what you do with the other one I could care less. Is that understood.�
The woman paused in thought.
Kuryakin had been the one that Knight had caught when he flew into the air while in Brazil. This could work out more to her favor then she thought. Apparently this Knight was quite close to this particular UNCLE agent. These two men were very important and she wasn�t about to allow her dislike for this pompous man stop her from completing her dream.
�Very well, where shall we begin?�
The General smiled and shrugged. �I have heard through the grapevine that my little Russian Uncle agent use to be very close to this Knight. Once we snare one, the other...I am sure will not be far behind.�
The woman smiled and getting to her feet she reached out her hand. He took it and brought it to his lips. The pact was sealed.
***
LaCroix was just pouring himself a glass of his favorite vintages when the familiar form entered his office.
A fire was softly crackling and a chess game was set up near by as if in anticipation of a game. A few candles lit the room, giving it a soft mysterious feel.
A little nervous, Illya Kuryakin remained in the doorway. He had gotten a brief phone call inviting him to LaCroix�s penthouse suite just above the Raven Club. It had been several weeks since he had last seen the Ancient vampire and Illya still had many questions he wanted to ask his biological father. But now arriving and seeing LaCroix all the questions were going out the window.
It was very disturbing, at the least, to stare at the man who was suppose to be his father and know that he was a vampire over two thousand years old. His knowledge of the past and his power was overpowering.
�Have a seat. Illya.�
LaCroix turned and offered a seat by the fire. Illya�s eyes caught a glance at the chess board made of what looked like metal and gold. Sitting down Illya automatically moved a piece.
After getting a drink for Illya, he came over and after handing the glass of vodka to the human, he took the empty seat and stared at the chess board with great interest.
�You have a great love of chess too, I see?�
�Yes, and without being modest I can officially say I�m very good at it.�
LaCroix wryly grinned at the pup and moved his piece on the board. Illya at once drew his brows together.
�Yes, I am sure you are. However I have much more experience at playing.�
Illya moved his knight forward and LaCroix countered with moving his own knight.
�Nick has vanished?�
�He is fine, he just needed to get away for awhile.�
�I was worried.�
�You needn�t be. Nicholas has his moods. I have had to deal with them for over seven hundred years. I am quite use to it.�
Illya moved his bishop and LaCroix grinned and moved his last piece into play.
�Checkmate.�
Illya stared at the board in shock. Then he looked up and smiled.
�I underestimated you.�
�Most mortals do.� LaCroix replied with a great deal of smug pride.
Taking a sip of his drink, Illya finally felt less nervous about the situation. Which was probably why LaCroix had knowingly brought the chess board out. Illya recognized the ploy as a small token to his mortal son.
�I am glad you invited me. I have been wanting to talk with you. Ask you questions.�
LaCroix lifted one eyebrow. �Ask.�
�Tell me about yourself. Everything. I want to know everything about you.�
LaCroix slowly brought the blood wine to his lips, and smiling he nodded.
�That is a very long story, one that may not only take all night but most of the day.�
�I already called out from work.�
�Ah.� LaCroix took a long swallow of the blood and then putting the glass down he began to reset the chess board.
�Very well, will start at the beginning. The day of my birth. That is the day I became immortal.�
Illya sat back against the chair and listened whole heartedly at the story of Lucien LaCroix�s life.
***
The van pulled up in front of the club.
The woman stared out the window and then glanced back to the shadow figure behind her.
�He is inside. Shall we move in?�
�No, not until morning. We will have the advantage my dear.�
Not understanding, the woman rolled down her window and glancing at her watch, she prepared for the long wait.
***
He waited patiently for the young one�s arrival. Taking a seat, he could sense the vampire would be arriving within the next hour or so.
The cabin was not really to Aristotle�s liking. It was comfortable but it was so small. Aristotle was used to larger accommodations.
Nicholas had called him earlier that day asking if they could meet. On holiday for the moment, Aristotle sensing the younger vampire�s chaotic emotions, he had agreed.
Aristotle had known Nicholas for almost seven hundred years. They had met at one of Janette�s ballroom parties. Aristotle of course had known Janette longer and LaCroix, well they were almost the same age.
Aristotle had a great deal of respect for Lucien LaCroix but there were times when he could actually want to throw a stake right threw his cold Roman heart. They may be vampires but they were worlds apart. It was no secret that Aristotle did not approve of LaCroix�s parental ways with his blood children. He was a harsh master at times, and sometimes unmerciful.
Aristotle was a scholar, and LaCroix was a General. That in itself marked them completely different in opinions and conflicts. Not that they didn�t like each other, in fact several times there paths had crossed and they had for a brief time journeyed together. One of those times led Aristotle to wind up in a Nazi Prisoner camp. Aristotle still shivered over those memories. He would admit though that the one upside of his imprisonment was the fact that LaCroix was with him. He had no doubt that eventually they would escape. Still they had very little in common.
The only thing that they did have in common was the fact that they both cared deeply for Nicholas. Aristotle had always liked the brash and moody ex-crusader. Even though Aristotle was older then Nick, he never used his age against him. Actually Aristotle never used his power and age on anyone including of his own kind. Oh, he had over one hundred fledglings running about in this world, but he was in his mortal life a man who loved books and writing, and that was something he had carried with him into his life as an immortal.
There were a few vampires that actually resented and hated Aristotle. Although he would take no credit it was he who had actually caused the senseless killings to stop. It was he, the scholar, that had used the invention of blood transfusions to cease the murder of mortals. At first when he introduced this concept without taking the life of a mortal was rejected, but in time now nearing the end of the millennium more then ninety percent of the vampires in existence had stopped killing.
For this reason some of the vampires in the community, especially in the council, who had always loved the kill resented these changes. Aristotle had stood his ground, and defended his policy that it would help to protect the community and keep the awareness of vampires better hidden from mortals. Aristotle knew he was playing with fire and that at least one of the council members, Nemor, had voted for his death.
This of course never happened, no one dared touch him. Aristotle had many friends in high places, LaCroix and Waverly were only a small few not to mention at least four other council members that were from his own blood line. Aristotle had always felt different from most vampires and if he had known it then he knew it now.
Perhaps that is why he took to Nicholas, almost as if he was a brother or friend. For he too did not like killing. He never had. He did kill in the past, that he would not deny, but it had always been with the lowest forms of human life, criminals, or vermin that were better off not in this world. The few innocents that he did kill had been ones that had begged for death. Sad, lost souls that couldn�t bear to live one more day in this cold life. It was surprising how many mortals actually desired death to living.
In time, Aristotle had grown to dislike even that form of killing for who was he to be the judge and juror of others. Age had provided him with something unique from other immortal vampires, wisdom. He found mortals far to beautiful of a creature to waste. So, after drinking human blood for more then a thousand years, he had eventually turned to bovine blood. That did not put him in favor of the council or to his few enemies.
Most of the community of vampires found the drinking of animal blood distasteful. For one thing, it was taking the blood of lower life forms, which some how in their minds eyes made them feel inferior for drinking it. But also because it just didn�t have the same satisfying result as human blood. Aristotle had brought across many mortals but he had never insisted on them drinking animal blood. He had allowed them to find there own way. Surprisingly more then half of his blood line followed after there father�s ways.
Aristotle was not as feared and revered as Waverly or LaCroix in the community, but he was greatly loved and adored. In his work, he had provided many favors for his kind and almost never asked anything in return. This also endeared him to the community, so most vampires ignored the fact that he drank animal blood. To them he was like a grandfather, and Aristotle knew that a great many referred to him as the gentle vampire. It was not meant as a joke but as a form of esteem and he had taken it as such.
To this day, Aristotle found beauty in all things, vampires and mortals and he knew someday the gap between the two would be bridged. It was just a matter of time and patience. The only problems he saw were the old ones of his kind, most of whom hated him and secretly waited behind the lines so they could again rise to power without being questioned.
For that was the other reason they hated Aristotle. It was often the young vampires who sought refuge in his home. Some for advice, some for rest, or a new identity and life. But some, some came to him for protection. Sometimes a cruel master would sell his fledgling or her to another ancient vampire and they were often violently raped. There had been many other various forms of torment and cruelty that had them running to him. Aristotle had tried to help as much as he could. Inside he felt he had done little, but in truth he had done more then anyone else would have.
Since the older vampires did not wish to upset the elderly scholar or owed him from past favors, they often bent to his will. Aristotle however did not like using his power, he didn�t like scaring others, not humans or vampires. He did not take pleasure in hurting people, no matter who they were.
He didn�t like wielding power over another, it held to many consequences, and often it would eventually back fire. How many times had Aristotle seen a fledgling actually try to take the life of his master simply because they had tired of being their slave and play thing.
Things had to change. Aristotle had hoped it would begin with Nicholas.
Only one in a billon would mortals be brought across whole. Nicholas was that one in a billion. In all the years he had been a vampire, and all the vampires he had encountered and brought across, Aristotle had never met another vampire that had kept the treasure of their mortal conscience as Nicholas had.
It made Nicholas stand out among other vampires. It had made him valuable to some, a diamond in the rough. Those stupid enough to try to claim the young Knight often met their demise at the hands of a jealous and possessive LaCroix. Those that were smarter kept their distance while watching mouthwateringly from afar. Still there were others that had actually seen Nicholas as a threat and had tried to kill him. That too was a mistake. Not only could Nicholas protect himself, but if he couldn�t, on those rare incidents, LaCroix was never too far away to come to his child�s side.
Aristotle also had a past with Nicholas. He remembered not more then two hundred years ago a distraught Knight had flown into his home, shaking and nearly hysterical. He had suffered a recent cruel beating by his Master. Aristotle had been shocked by LaCroix�s handy work. He had seen LaCroix enraged but never towards Nicholas. All that Aristotle was able to decipher from Nicholas was that LaCroix had been his lover and then for some reason left him, and when Nicholas had found his master he had been beaten soundly.
The rejection had been too much for Nicholas, who for almost a week, refused to feed or even get out of bed.
Seeing that Nicholas guilt and pain had reached its culmination, Aristotle had given him a way out of his pain. That was when he had introduced Nicholas to bovine blood. It took a while for the young vampire to get use to the taste but at least he was feeding. Aristotle also realized he had put himself in a dilemma for LaCroix despised the practice of drinking animal blood and would undoubtedly be very angry to discover someone teaching his wayward child this option of feeding. But to the Scholar it was the lesser of two evils. Let Nicholas waste away and perish or give him an alternative meal.
It took almost a year for Nicholas to get back on his feet again and out on his own. Aristotle was not surprised when LaCroix wound up at his doorstep several weeks later. He expected the worst, but instead LaCroix simply stared at him and before leaving said two simple words. �Thank you.�
The Scholar still found it all distasteful, even after several thousands of years older vampires still mistreated the younger ones. He had hoped for change and still it had not come. He was beginning to wonder if the council really cared about anyone other than themselves. In his heart, Aristotle knew the true person preventing the change of things.
Nemor.
He knew he was the only one that really had the power to stop the effective changes, and that he was the real problem behind it all. So long as he remained in power nothing would amend.
That was why Aristotle had gone on holiday. One of his young blood line had come to him tear stricken and completely distraught. Nemor had been making advances on her but Keri had fallen in love with a mortal man and had intended to bring him across to spend the rest of eternity together. Keri had been a gentle soul he had encountered in the 1950�s. She had been a psychiatrist for more then twenty five years, and when she was brought across had started treating both sides. She was quite good at her job, and cared for the emotional stability of both races. She had never taken a human life, and had followed after her blood father and drank only cow�s blood. Aristotle had loved her passion for all life and that is what made him bring her across. She had only stayed with him for a short time. However, though she still came to see him from time to time, she sought a life of her own. Aristotle had never forced his children to stay at his side. It was not in his nature to do so. But when she came to him in her state of shock, Aristotle hadn�t felt such rage in over a thousand years.
Especially when she told him that without getting permission from her Master, meaning him, Nemor had forced himself upon her.
He was seething with rage. Like any father, he went at once to the council. They were sympathetic of course. Nemor was present and had denied knowing that the immortal fledgling was his blood line. He had mistakenly thought she was without a master and had wanted only to take her under his wings, as any older vampire should and would do.
In the end, all he got was a feigned apology from Nemor, and the council�s promise that it would never happen again.
There was nothing else Aristotle could do. Still enraged, Aristotle had informed his blood line council members that if they did not remove Nemor from the council and find a just punishment for his crime, then he would take matters into his own hands.
They had been shocked by Aristotle�s anger, while Nemor had been amused- seeing Aristotle as an insect and hardly a threat.
Leaving his daughter, Keri, to a few of her sisters in blood to be cared for, Aristotle decided to go in retreat and try to figure out how to contend with Nemor. It was in fact quite clear that Aristotle�s longevity was nearing its end. He would demand justice and in the process he would have to fight Nemor. Literally in combat, commonly called the Death match.
Nemor was older then he, stronger and was also a warrior. Being a scholar, Aristotle knew who would win. But he could not allow this continue. Too many older vampires had taken advantage of the young ones, too many times had the older ones mistreated their own kind. It was time for it to stop. But inside, Aristotle knew he would meet Nemor in battle and he would most likely die. He could only hope that his sacrifice would start to show others the errors of their ways and perhaps then it would begin the change he had always hoped would come.
The day when Vampires, no matter their age, would treat each other as equals and would respect all life, even mortals.
So, this would probably be the last time he would see Nicholas. That in itself was good. He enjoyed Nicholas� company, his humor, his moods, even his bad taste in clothing.
The door opened to the cabin and Aristotle smiled as the blond vampire entered.
�Hi Nick.�
�Aristotle, You beat me here?�
�What can I say? Flying has its advantages, little traffic as being one of them.�
He smiled and Nick smiled back at the older vampire.
�I am glad you could come. I need to talk to someone.�
�As always I am here to listen.� He paused and looked at Nicholas� current clothing.
�So, ah, still getting your clothes on discount.� He sighed, as Nick sat down on the nearby couch. �Out of all the things LaCroix taught you, how did he miss with your style of clothing?�
Even as he laughed, Nick felt the wave of guilt that had been festering over him the past few days lighten. Aristotle had always been a good friend to him, and Nick was glad to have his company.
The week was already not quite so long and empty.
�So what can I do for you my old friend?�
***
The Sun began to rise....
Seeing that the fire was dying, Illya had gotten up and set to his task of getting it restarted. LaCroix, now seated in one of the couches, watched the young blond haired Russian put his heart into his new job.
�Well, Illya. Has my life story set to your satisfaction?�
Looking over his shoulder Illya smiled at his father. �Mostly. Thank you for telling me. It explains alot.�
�I do aim to please. Now I hope that you will take the time, now that it is daylight, to tell me a little bit about yourself?�
Looking back to the fire, Illya frowned. He hadn�t really wanted to talk about his life. But then again it wasn�t an unfair request. LaCroix had told him a great deal of his Roman life and the life of a vampire. It seemed only right to do the same.
Getting to his feet, Illya continued to look into the flames.
�There is not much to tell. I grew up in an orphanage. Later I was taken in by KGB. I eventually left and joined the navy. Briefly. Then I went to the Sorbonne University and finally to UNCLE. End of story.�
LaCroix frowned at the mortal. �That is hardly any story. I got more information from Waverly�s secret files on you then that sentence?�
Shocked by this admission, Illya glared at the vampire.
�You looked into my files?�
�Yes, I did.� replied LaCroix, unashamed. �I mean after all, you have only known about me for the past month and in that time you have seen me what...twice? This counting as the twice. I had every right to know about my own blood child�s past.�
�Oh really? Does it? After being out of my life for thirty years and not even caring about my existence.�
�Don�t exaggerate It wasn�t whether I cared or not, I did not know that you survived.�
Before the conversation could get heated the door to the penthouse suite suddenly burst open. LaCroix was more then taken aback in surprise by this, since he had been too busy to feel the heart beats of six mortals coming up his elevator. Usually he was always on guard but his thoughts had been elsewhere and that proved to be his undoing.
Illya reached for his UNCLE revolver, but as her turned towards the door, a gas can was thrown into the room. Engulfed by the sleep gas, Illya was down and out in a matter of five seconds.
The men started to enter the room with gas masks on and guns raised just in case.
LaCroix was already moving. The gas held no effect on him, and he quickly grabbed the first man by the throat. The man�s screams ended abruptly when LaCroix snapped his neck as if it was a toothpick.
The second man, seeing the shadowy form in the smoke, fired his gun at him.
But LaCroix felt the bullet as a mere mosquito sting. Growling and baring his fangs and with flashing golden eyes he advanced on the intruder.
The man tried to fire another shot but LaCroix had moved faster. Re ripped the gun from the man�s hands and throwing it aside, grabbed the soldier bodily and slammed his fangs deep into his neck. He drank every drop of his blood in a matter of seconds. The dead intruder fell to the floor with a sickening thud.
The third intruder had watched all of this in fascination. Pulling back, he allowed the other man to step forward. LaCroix narrowed his eyes at the sight of a man holding what looked like a crucifix. Snarling in rage, LaCroix ignored the pain it caused and moved in for the kill. That was when LaCroix made his fatal mistake. The third intruder had moved to get behind the vampire. He brought something up from his hand and slammed it down hard on LaCroix�s chest.
A cold sharp pain slammed into LaCroix from behind and caused him to drop to the floor.
As he fell on all fours, he was helpless as the intruder behind him grabbed the wooden stake and yanked it out. LaCroix screamed in agony and then blacked out.
The remaining men carried the bodies out to the van. Thrown inside, the men quickly got in front removing there masks to reveal General Sergei and one of his men. In the driver�s seat waiting was Doctor Welsh. Seeing his nod, she started the engine and took off with their captives.
***
(TBC)