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It felt like he was swimming in a quagmire, with little strength or will to pull free. Nick briefly slit his eyes open, then squeezed them shut when his vision began to spin. Everything was so confusing. All he wanted to do was relax and sleep, but something continued to prod him, forcing him to awaken. ...Ni...cho...las...

"Leave me alone!" he weakly snarled at the insistent force.

"Shhh, Nicholas. Go back to sleep." A gentle, charismatic voice soothed him, promising solid unwavering support.

Nick felt a calming presence lightly brush against his mind as fingertips gently stroked across his brow. Familiar...yes, this aura was different than the first; he was drawn -- no, connected to it. An intimacy, heavy with age, bound him to this person. He was certain of it. But, who? He attempted to open his eyes, but they simply wouldn't cooperate. Family? Yes, it's... "...LaCroix," he whispered, finishing aloud the thought he had been struggling with.

"Yes, Nicholas."

The bed settled as LaCroix sat next to him. Come to me, Ni...cho...las. Again, something scratched against his consciousness, irritating the raw wounds the last twenty-four hours had left on his psyche.

"LaCroix? Make it leave me in peace," Nick hoarsely sighed, his eyes still closed.

"Make what leave, Nicholas?" LaCroix asked as he gently wiped the beads of sweat from his son's face. A slight frown marred his brow; he was surprised Nicholas was conscious enough to communicate. The curare should have kept him asleep for another hour at least. He tried to sense what was bothering his favorite, but only felt the vampire stirring, the hunger inchoate in its attempt to overwhelm the curare.

Nick rolled his head slightly at the insistent pressure. It wanted him awake and aware. You want to, Ni...cho...las. It wanted him to submit. "No," Nick moaned, frowning in pain as the pressure continued to build. "LaCroix, make it stop!" Nick pleaded, reaching blindly toward his master.

"It's all right, Nicholas," he soothed and pulled his son into his arms. Reaching for the glass sitting on the nearby table, LaCroix shifted position on the bed and leaned Nicholas against his chest, his left arm securely supporting his child's back. He felt his son shudder, then sigh. "Drink," he urged, bringing the doctored drink to Nicholas' lips.

Nick sighed in relief as the escalating mental pressure eased off. The aroma of blood stoked his hunger, shoving the unwanted mental contact to the background. He raised his head off his master's chest when the glass grazed against his lips and he opened his mouth. The rich taste of human blood trickled across his tongue, causing his hunger to flare brighter. Quickly reaching up, Nicholas grabbed LaCroix' wrist, wrapping both hands tightly around the strong joint and gulped down the entire glassful. He licked his lips clean, trying to prolong the intoxicating feeling the vibrant taste provided, then with a sigh, leaned against the solid presence of his master. With his hunger moderately satisfied and the unwanted pressure quiet, Nick slipped back into sleep, his exhaustion blanketing him.

LaCroix felt Nicholas relaxing against him and realized he was asleep once again. He placed the empty glass on the nightstand, then wrapped both arms around his child. What had driven Nicholas awake? He shifted the limp form slightly, securing his son snugly within his arms and considered yet another factor involving this melodrama.

He remembered the scalding pain that had burned through his veins when he'd consumed The Barber, Jack's tainted blood. It doesn't appear that kind of pain is the problem, though. "What is going on inside of you, Nicholas?" he softly murmured, gazing down upon his son. Obviously, whatever Gautier had become when he came across complicated things beyond a simple poisoning. "Whatever it is, it was strong enough to overcome the curare," LaCroix murmured to himself, as he continued to hold Nicholas close.

He looked up when the bedroom door clicked open. Janette slipped quietly in and moved to sit on the bed across from him. "The bath is ready, LaCroix," she whispered, glancing at Nicholas, held snugly within their master's grasp.

"Thank you, Janette," he replied and temporarily laid Nicholas down. Standing, he glanced at his daughter and asked, "Is Tabari settled in one of the spare rooms?"

"Yes, I put him in the room across the hall. He said he would sleep for a few hours, then relieve me."

LaCroix nodded an affirmative and bent to pick Nicholas up. Settling his son's weight comfortably against his chest, he headed for the door Janette had eased open. As the ancient vampire was about to cross the threshold, he turned and commanded, "Have more blood brought to the room. I don't want to take any chances of running out."

"Oui." She glanced from her sire's visage to Nicholas' bruised features and back again, her concern for them both expressed in the long look.

Sweeping his gaze across his daughter's face, LaCroix acknowledged her worry with a nod, then continued down the hall with his injured burden.

A short time later, the sensation of warm water rising around him jarred Nicholas awake. He floundered, adrenaline surging through him as he attempted to escape the rising water, only calming when the essence of his master surrounded him. Uttering a low groan, he settled into the water.

Nick battled against the numbing fog that was enveloping him. Why couldn't he remember where he was or why he was feeling so tired? He shifted slightly, then winced when a persistent, painful throbbing originating in his shoulder overshadowed all the other aches in his body. Vague memories of a fight briefly flashed by. He tried to hold the memories steady, but they slipped back into the dark void. He could feel the velvet blackness gently coaxing him to relax, to give in, and sleep.

Pulling on nearly depleted energy reserves, Nick pushed the fog back.

He slowly opened his eyes, then blinked, as a vague indistinct image was all he could discern. With an audible sigh, he attempted to bring his sight into focus. Gradually, what looked like a large bathroom became clearer, the soft greens of the tile giving the room a decidedly feminine feel. Ah, Janette...I'm in Janette's bath...room, he managed to perceive before his energy gave out and the beckoning darkness claimed him once more.

Janette slipped into the room with several large towels folded in her hands. Stopping near her claw tub, she viewed LaCroix, who was kneeling at the head of her antique tub, shampooing her brother's hair. His hands were sure and gentle as they worked the suds through the blood encrusted strands. "I've brought some clean towels for Nicola." She watched as their sire cradled the back of Nicholas' head and slowly rinsed the grime and shampoo away, revealing her brother's golden-hued hair.

Without looking up, LaCroix replied, with a slight nod for direction. "Put them down over here, Janette." He placed Nicholas' head against the tub again, then soaped up a hand towel, and began to wash away the bloody streaks marbling his son's skin.

At least Nicholas had healed enough to finally endure a bath. LaCroix watched the bath water become murkier, tinting pink as he worked down his son's body. He kept a tight hold on his anger; the time for revenge would come -- soon.

Anxiety liberally laced with barely contained outrage poured through the link the elder vampire shared with his daughter. Glancing at her, LaCroix noticed Janette was staring at the floor where he had dropped the tattered remains of Nicholas' clothes, the towels tightly clutched against her bosom. He felt his son stir slightly, prodded by the highly charged emotions Janette was broadcasting along the link connecting them all together.

"Janette."

Janette started, then looked over to see LaCroix watching her. "Oui?"

"Nicholas will recover. I will accept no other outcome."

His calm facade reassured her and helped her gain control over her emotions. Though Nicholas was badly injured, she knew LaCroix would do whatever was necessary to ensure her brother's survival. Taking a deep breath, she offered a small smile in answer and replied with more certainty than she felt. "Oui, LaCroix. He can do nothing else."

LaCroix gave his daughter a small smile and turned his attention back to the silent body in the bath. Without looking up, he directed, "Prepare another glass for Nicholas...and increase the dosage of curare. I do not want him waking too soon."

"All right. It will be waiting in the bedroom when you've finished here." Janette deposited the towels on the floor near her master then slipped out of the room, leaving LaCroix alone with his son.

The elder vampire wiped the washrag gingerly across Nicholas' face, trying to dislodge the dried blood without too much pressure. The bruise covering his right cheek was fading, but much too slowly by normal standards. He would have to ask Tabari if slowed healing was another side effect to this 'poisoning'.

The fog began to clear, leaving Nicholas with a sense that something was very wrong. Warm water lapped delicately about his waist, mingling with the soft flow of water running down his chest. These sensations roused him further, triggering a brief memory from another time, another place. While Nick reached for consciousness, more memories began to emerge, mixing and blurring together with no clear message other than fear and anger...and Gautier! He rolled his head to the side and attempted to open his eyes. His eyelids refused his command. Another series of memories swept across his mind, leaving him to mentally flounder and rage at the encroaching thoughts of Gautier.

Yes. Gautier somehow did this! Nick silently seethed. A shudder spiraled through him and he fought to control the surge of white-hot fury as another fragment of memory briefly surfaced, only to have it slip away when he tried to hold on to it.

Gautier's hateful, hungry leer suddenly appeared against his closed eyelids. Nick jerked away from the soft touch caressing his shoulders and fought to banish the abhorrent image taunting him. Forcing open his eyes, he thrust his hands into the water and tried to push himself up, splashing fluid everywhere in his haste. A soothing presence brushed against his mind, attempting to pacify him as a familiar voice whispered, "Be calm, Nicholas. No one will harm you."

Warm water drifted down his tense back as a persistent pressure pushed against his healthy shoulder, easing him back into the bath. "It's all right. Just relax." The voice spoke from behind him, insisting he cooperate.

Ignoring the fatigue that encompassed him, Nick attempted to pull his thoughts together. Another flash of anger hit him broadside leaving behind images that didn't feel like his...yet were. A string of young, blond men...anger that they weren't the one he truly desired. Death, blood, and the vile touch of true evil flooded across his memory, coloring everything in a red haze. His fangs dropped and an angry growl rolled up from his chest as he exploded from the tub in a shower of water.

I have you now! The presence gleefully cackled as the former crusader was securely snagged.

LaCroix felt the red haze of the vampire erupt within his child. He tensed, caution dictating his actions. There was no way to predict what Nicholas might attempt in his current state.

Even with the slight warning, he was caught off guard when Nicholas pulled out of his grasp and flew from the tub. LaCroix stood up and cautiously moved between his son and the door. He warily watched his child stumble and fall against the far wall, causing a grimace of pain to cross his face. The injured vampire shook his head briefly, as if to clear his thoughts, then pinned his master with a hard stare. LaCroix realized the vampire was in total control -- gold irises swirling to red gazed at him with predatory design.

"LaCroix," Nick purred, displaying fully extended canines.

Extending his hand slightly, LaCroix directed, "Nicholas, come with me. You need to get dressed, then rest." He slowly worked his way round the tub, attempting to get closer, just in case he had to restrain his son.

"What I want doesn't require clothes, LaCroix," Nicholas seductively rumbled, pushing off the wall. Staring at his master's face, he slowly ran his tongue across his canines, then licked his upper lip. "I can think of better things to do than rest right now, can't you?" Nick asked, his voice becoming sultry and low. His right hand casually began to stroke across his wet skin, moving in slow circles across his flat stomach.

LaCroix was undecided how to take this sudden switch in Nicholas' demeanor. "Nicholas...?" He could feel his body responding to the erotic stimuli coming from his child.

"I'm hungry, LaCroix. Hungry for several things you can give me." He stepped toward his master and provocatively drew his hand up the old vampire's shirt. "Don't you want to play with me?" he purred, running his fingers toward the top button of the black silk shirt and quickly jerked it loose.

LaCroix was worried. This definitely was *not* normal behavior for his son! He reached up and captured the roving hand, as he mentally reached for his child's mind. What he perceived, shocked him.

There was another entity fighting his son for control. He could sense Nick gamely struggling against the oppressive presence, but after everything he had been through, LaCroix didn't think Nicholas had the necessary strength to prevail. Deciding on a course of action, he reached down the link to his daughter.

Janette! he called through the link. Bring the doctored drink here! Now! He had to get more curare into Nicholas before he completely lost his silent battle.

With his maker's attention diverted, Nicholas grabbed at the front of his master's trousers with his free hand, causing LaCroix to flinch. A racy grin spread across his face when he felt the elder vampire's growing erection. LaCroix quickly grasped both wrists, preventing Nick from fondling certain sensitive areas, which brought a disappointed pout to the younger man's bruised face. Leaning closer, his son lewdly smiled. "I can't believe you're not interested. Or is your lack of enthusiasm because it's my idea," Nick rumbled, his voice pitched low.

"I am interested, Nicholas, but now is not the best time."

"Anytime will work, I thought you knew that." He turned intense, red irises upon his master and hissed, "Aren't you the one who's always telling me to 'give into my nature'." He pulled against the iron grip, wanting free. "I burn, LaCroix. Turn me loose, I want to relish in the pleasure of feeding. Take me as I taste you!"

With that statement, Nick made a lunge for LaCroix' neck. Pulling back, LaCroix managed to avoid the flashing fangs long enough to spin his son around. He recaptured his child's wrists, pulled Nicholas against him and waited for Janette to arrive. Where is she? Nicholas won't hold out much longer.

Nick snarled at his imprisonment, angry he'd missed his mark. "I need your blood. I'm hungry!" He struggled against his master, but to no avail.

Janette burst into the bathroom, with Tabari following. Seeing Nick contained in LaCroix' grasp, she hurried forward with the curare-laced drink in hand.

Taking a strong hold on his desires, LaCroix commanded, "Here, drink what Janette has brought you. It will help your hunger."

"I don't want just any blood. I want yours!" Nick snapped, trying to pull away from his master's iron grip.

With a deep growl of annoyance, LaCroix roughly jerked Nicholas closer. "Don't challenge me on this, Nicholas. Drink what Janette has brought for you. If you obey me, I may allow you some of my blood later." Nodding to Janette to come closer, he ordered, "Now...drink!"

Realizing he had lost this round, Gautier relaxed his hold on his prize's mind, though his anger simmered at LaCroix' interference.

Nick growled angrily, but submitted to LaCroix' demand. He quickly drained the glass Janette brought to his lips, then leaned suggestively against his master. Looking over Janette's shoulder, he spied Tabari, who was standing near the door, observing Nicholas with a prominent frown on his face.

"Who's the newcomer?" Nick's voice purred, wiggling slyly against LaCroix' groin. "Maybe he would like to play too, hmmm, LaCroix?"

A strange feeling of familiarity, of connection distracted the malevolent presence as he stared out Nick's blue eyes at the dark-skinned stranger. Nick felt the bond that tied Gautier to his father's visitor, though he couldn't fight through his fatigue to take advantage of it.

LaCroix's deep, compelling voice pulled everyone's attention back to the ancient Roman. "Not right now, Nicholas. You still have some healing to complete before you are up to any strenuous activity, sexual or otherwise," LaCroix growled, feeling a strong response to Nick's naked body rubbing against him. He hoped the curare worked soon.

"I don't want to wait," Nick growled, his frustration evident in his voice.

"We don't always get what we desire."

It wasn't very long before LaCroix felt the tenseness draining out of his son. He felt his child's fatigue as Nicholas let more of his weight fall against his father, with his head resting against LaCroix' shoulder. "I feel strange."

"It's all right, Nicholas. We need to get you back to bed," LaCroix replied. He sensed the exhaustion Nicholas was feeling as well as confusion concerning what had just happened. LaCroix could sympathize; he was feeling more than a bit confused, not to mention aroused.

By the time they managed to get Nicholas back to bed, wearing a clean shirt and a pair of pants, he was almost unconscious. Uttering a soft groan, Nick sank onto the bed and quickly fell asleep. While Janette pulled the blanket up, LaCroix rounded on Tabari wanting answers.

LaCroix' angry gaze locked onto Tabari. "Can you explain what just happened?" LaCroix' movements were predatory and dangerous as he rounded the bed to front the Moor. A dark cloud briefly crossed his features before the old Roman was back in control. "I felt another personality fighting Nicholas for control. What is going on? How is such a thing possible?"

Tabari stepped back slightly, feeling the controlled fury being telegraphed through LaCroix' body language. He hoped the old Roman could hold his anger in check. They really didn't need to come to blows over something they actually agreed upon. "A link was established when Nicholas was forced to drink Gautier's blood. I felt it earlier. Normally, Gautier's hold wouldn't be strong enough to overpower him, but..." Glancing back at the now quiet Nicholas, the Moor added, "Using the curare might be a two edged sword."

As Tabari explained, LaCroix paced back to the edge of the bed and watched his son sleeping. Speculation caused dark emotions to whirl as LaCroix considered Tabari's explanation. He didn't like this turn of events at all. "A two edged sword...because it subdues Nicholas to the point Gautier can obtain a tentative hold." He glanced back over his shoulder to see Tabari nod in agreement.

"Yes! Gautier will use every means possible to control Nicholas. He wants him back."

"Back?" The thought of Nicholas back in Gautier's hands caused his fury to thunder to life. "Never!"

"I felt him manipulating Nicholas. He perceives you as a threat. That's why Gautier maneuvered your son into a state where he'd want -- no, need to bite you."

Ignoring his colleague's rising fury, Tabari reached out and grabbed LaCroix' arm, to draw his full attention. "Don't you understand? He wanted Nick to feed from you. Once infected, you'd no longer be in a position to stop him."

LaCroix restrained his desire to ream the flesh from someone, preferably Gautier. Taking a deep breath, he considered Tabari's words and brought his wrath firmly under control. He did understand -- and silently swore he'd make Gautier pay. he silently swore.

To Chapter 12

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