Darkest Memories

LaCroix sat at apparent ease in the modest house. Heavy black-out drapes covered the  windows. They were always pulled shut, though during these times that wasn't considered  unusual. England was under attack; bombs were falling with deadly result. He had  located this house, with Janette's help, shortly after arriving from France. With Nicholas  still in need of rest and quiet to speed his healing, they decided to locate a dwelling near  Oxford instead of living in London. With the bombing in London accelerating, it was  probably safer as well.

The former inhabitants had left this property abandoned, its grounds overgrown with  weeds and ivy, which was intruding into every crevice within reach. The small eighteenth  century manor house showed signs of its past grandeur through the neglect of the present.  It stood two stories high with two wings off either side of the foyer. The library was a  shambles, with books laying all over the floor along with the debris and dust. The music  room wasn't as bad. LaCroix knew Nicholas was pleased that the piano was still intact.  Many of the rooms upstairs had been left open to the elements through open windows or  in the case of the right wing, a bomb that had dropped too close to the house and  collapsed part of the back wall. Fortunately, the master suites located in the front of the  house were in good repair.

After sweeping and cleaning to make the house livable, LaCroix was taking a break. He  couldn't break this one mortal habit from his past, cleanliness. He had drilled this same  habit into his children as well. He could hear Nicholas in the library cleaning and putting  things away. Nicholas. LaCroix had almost lost him this time. <The Nazis almost killed  my son!> The thought made his eyes glow gold with anger.

A noise in the driveway broke his line of thought. As he turned to investigate his eyes  faded to their normal icy blue color. Janette came through the door with a large handful  of clothes.

"There's another load in the car as well as some of the household things we will be  needing." Janette said to LaCroix. She had traded in the men's clothing she wore while  with the Maquis for a split skirt, riding boots, and a comfortable blouse. Her dark hair  was pulled back away from her face to cascade down her back. A hip length black leather  coat finished off her look. LaCroix stood up to help her with her armful. Taking half the  load, he followed her up the stairs to one of the master bedrooms on the second floor.

"I managed to find enough clothes to give you and Nicolah several changes of clothing."  Janette informed him while laying her bundle on the chair by the armoire. "I had to settle  for grays and browns for now. I can lay my hands on some dye if you don't want to wait  for everything to arrive from London." She smiled slightly to herself, knowing LaCroix's  insistence on wearing black.

Janette turned around and looked at her master, her father. He was laying his armful on  the bed. He was tall and pale, with blond hair cut very short. His strong face showed  little of the worry she knew he had been feeling of late. With Nicholas' escape from the  Germans, the mad dash out of France and a quick exit from London, this was the first  relaxed breath any of them had been able to take in weeks.

"That will have to do.... unfortunately," LaCroix replied. "Once the trunks arrive from  London, then all of us will have proper clothing again." Lacroix held out his hand to  Janette and pulled her into a loose hug. "You have done well for us daughter, as well as  can be expected in these circumstances." He placed a kiss on her forehead before  breaking the embrace.

"How is Nicolah?" Janette asked. She was worried about her brother in blood. He was  not recovering as fast as he should. The nightmares that had plagued him since his escape  seemed to drain him so much. He had been so jumpy too, flinching at the slightest  unexpected touch. He had not been able to regain very much of the weight his  imprisonment and near starvation had taken from him.

"With his energy level so depleted, he's been sleeping quite a lot the last few days. I'm  feeding him as often as I'm able, but.... It's going to take longer than I thought for him to  get over this trauma. I may have to suppress the memories of his confinement entirely  before he begins to recover. I have not done so in case the Enforcement Council needed  to speak with Nicholas, but I may not have a choice if he is to recover."

Before Janette could say anything, they both heard a voice from downstairs.

"LaCroix?"

"Yes, Nicholas. I am with Janette. We will be down in a moment."

"What about the Council? Have you heard anything?" She didn't like it that the Enforcers  were involved in their business, but when a vampire was exposed under any  circumstances, they had to be informed. Then proper damage control could be carried  out, even during a war.

"No, not yet. I need you to go back to London and complete our business affairs."  Moving out of the room and toward the stairs, he continued, "Arrange with the lawyer to  have the papers on the house sent here. With Nicholas' control in question, I don't think  he should be moving around too much right now. Also, pick up our passports and locate  a steady supply of bottled blood from the community. I'll deal with any local problems  while we settle in."

"And if the Enforcers ask for you?"

"Tell them where we are. I will deal with their questions about Nicholas and what  happened in France."

Janette nodded. She was glad LaCroix would deal with this problem. She would have  enough to worry about trying to get everything they would need with this war waging all  around them. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Janette looked for Nicholas. She wanted  to see him before she left. There was a lot to accomplish before dawn.

As they were coming down the stairs, Nicholas came out of the library. His blond hair  was tousled and he was still extremely pale and thin. Janette's smile upon seeing him  faded as she thought about the circumstances of his capture. The Nazis had tried to get  information about her from him. It particularly hurt her to know that he had been captured  and tortured because of her involvement with the Maquis, but there was little she could do  about it now.

They met and linked arms as they walked toward the front door. Janette glanced over at  Nicholas as they walked. Besides the dark circles under his eyes, she couldn't see any  other serious problems that rest and several good feedings wouldn't fix. It wasn't until the  thin lines of pain appeared in his face whenever he relaxed his guard that she realized there  was more damage underneath. Damage that didn't seem to diminish with time. She knew  he was fighting the demon that dwelled in all vampires, that his control had weakened.

"Where are you off to now?" Nicholas asked. He had hoped Janette would be able to  stay a little while. He missed her company and her presence.

"I have errands to do in London. Things that can't be delayed. LaCroix is going to stay  here with you mon chere. I will see you when I get back. Just concentrate on getting  better."

"I'll be fine, Janette." Nicholas kissed her lightly on the lips. Smiling, Janette turned and  leaped into the night air and was gone.

"Don't worry about Janette, Nicholas. She will return in a few days." LaCroix assured  him. He stepped up behind his son and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Gesturing  toward the car with his other hand, LaCroix said, "Why don't we finish taking the supplies  into the house, then we will take a break. I don't want you to over tire yourself."

Nicholas leaned back against LaCroix for a moment. He was so very tired. He didn't  seem to be getting any better. <I don't understand what's happening. I've never felt like  this before.> He knew LaCroix was worried, he could feel it through the link. LaCroix  gently stood Nicholas up and walked with him to the car.

As he was bringing the last of the supplies inside the house, Nicholas suddenly sagged into  the nearest chair, dropping his armful on the floor. Feeling his son's fatigue, LaCroix laid  his armful on the dining room table and looked back through the foyer. Nicholas was  sitting in a chair by the stairs, his head resting on the back of the chair with his eyes  closed.

 Moving to his child's side, LaCroix stood looking at him for a moment, then leaned down  and brushed the blond hair off his forehead. Flinching at the touch, Nicholas opened his  eyes. Strands of gold laced through the normal blue color.

"Nicholas, you've done enough for now; go upstairs and lay down for a while." LaCroix  stated as he urged his son to his feet. Nodding, the younger vampire slowly headed  upstairs with LaCroix at his shoulder.

Once in his room, LaCroix helped Nicholas out of his clothes and into bed. "While you  rest, I will go hunting. We'll deal with your hunger when I return." LaCroix quietly  informed Nicholas as he climbed into bed. Watching his son settle and fall quickly asleep,  LaCroix turned and headed out to hunt. Feeding Nicholas as well as keeping himself  healthy meant he had to hunt more often. LaCroix knew he would have to go further  afield than he liked so that no suspicion was drawn to the new neighbors in town. As  much as he enjoyed feeding Nicholas, it was safer when they had a bottled blood supply  handy.

NEXT--CHAPTER 2

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