Honeyed Spiced Wine

by Sioux

Forever Knight

Pairing : LaCroix/Livia

NC17

No spoilers

Archive: Yes to WWOMB any others please ask. I don't own the characters, only letting them out to play.

All feedback gratefully received at Sioux_s@hotmail.com


Honeyed Spiced Wine
by Sioux

Lacroix drifted through the crowded bar of 'The Raven'. He stood silently surveying the gathered inmates - mortal and vampires. The music, loud and certainly not to his personal taste, roared on. It appeared to be popular with the patrons though, the dance floor was packed.

His broadcast over for the night he intended to relax a little, then, perhaps, if the mood took him, to see his son. Some amusement could still be extracted from that quarter; even after eight centuries.

He signalled the barman to bring him a bottle of his 'special reserve', it appeared with magical speed. As he was pouring the liquid into his glass,
savouring the bouquet he had the strangest feeling he was being watched.

Carefully he cast his attention around the room. Not many wished to intrude themselves on his notice, without good reason. His icy blue eyes swept the room, his inner sense sorting the mortal from the immortal.

Jeanette slid into the empty space next to him.

"Good evening, Lacroix."

"Jeanette."

"Your broadcast tonight was particularly ....unique."

"Why, thank you my daughter."

He did appear to genuinely enjoy the compliment.

At that moment the waiter appeared with another bottle and glass.

Lacroix asked his question by merely the lift of an eyebrow.

"A token of appreciation m'suir from the lady over there."

"An admirer?" Jeanette asked.

Lacroix concentrated on finding 'the lady'. Light glinted briefly on glass as, from the depths of a darkened booth on the other side of the room, the
unknown raised her drink in salute.

Jeanette had been examining the contents of the bottle.

"Your admirer has expensive tastes."

The vintage was indeed exquisite, both vintages. He took a sip from the new bottle, rolling the liquid around his mouth adding to his anticipation before swallowing.

"I really should thank her in person," he murmured as he turned from the bar. He already knew she was an immortal. He hadn't crossed more than a quarter of the distance between them when he felt her fine gossamer contact stop as suddenly as if a steel door had slammed shut. His effort at renewing the contact was effortlessly turned aside. He felt as if his senses were sliding against glass. Without a shadow of a doubt he knew
she wouldn't be found, unless she wished to be. More than a little intrigued he returned to Jeanette.

"Your admirer is a little shy."

"Indeed. One cannot but hope she loses her reserve in time for our next meeting. I would like to thank her. Personally."

Jeanette caught the sparkle in his eyes and shivered in spite of herself.

The unknown was either in for the greatest night of her immortal life - or the last, depending on Lacroix's mood at the time.

"Is she someone you recognise?" Jeanette asked.

Thinking over the simple question carefully, Lacroix wasn't sure. There was some element of familiarity but he was almost certain he hadn't encountered this immortal before. His perfect vampire memory would have ensured he remembered her. "No, I don't recognise her," he replied, sounding a great deal more certain than he felt.

*

Three nights later, after a particularly frustrating evening Lacroix returned to his rooms at The Raven, his temper close to breaking point. He
was looking for any excuse to chew someone out.

As soon as he entered the room he knew someone had been in there.

Delicately sniffing the air, he quietly closed the door opening his senses. Again, that feeling of his senses skittering, sliding away. Carefully he
looked around for signs of disturbance. Nothing had been taken, but, most unusually for a would-be thief, several items had been added. Two goblets of carved crystal and a metal jug. The goblets were full of a liquid. He picked one up and inhaled the fragrance, smiling slightly. Honeyed, spiced wine. A drink from his mortal life. He took a sip and swallowed.

Another scent went with the wine. The musky scent of warm skin and huge eyes, darkened by fear.

"Drink the wine, General." The voice, as honeyed as the liquid, and so quiet he wasn't sure if he had heard it or just remembered it.

A shadow detached itself and moved to stand in front of him, whilst he remained rapt in contemplation of the wine.

Quite slowly he raised his eyes. Her face swam into his vision. He hadn't thought about her for a very long time. He knew why. He still remembered how sharp and lasting the pain had been when he'd been deprived of her company. Refusing to think or talk about her helped him allay his grief.

He should have been very surprised to see her, but he wasn't.

"Good morning Livia." He said politely.

"Good morning General."

"After so long this going to seem a churlish question but...."

"But?"

"How did you survive the burial detail? I ordered you to be burnt."

"Ah yes. That rather nice funeral you paid for. Your men were loyal to your wishes but I'm afraid the undertaker took your money and put me in a pit with the other fever victims. Happily for me."

"Hmmm."

"I, er, took care of him, as my first choice when I awoke."

He stared into her eyes. Calm dignity and serenity looked back at him. Almost of it's own volition his hand reached out to touch her cheek. He stroked her velvet skin remembering the times he had done that when they had both been mortals. She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand, whilst stroking the back of it as she held it to her face revelling in the touch and scent of his skin. He kissed her lips gently and carefully, once again mindful of the terrified virgin he'd held and kissed and tenderly made love with. His eyes opened wide with surprise when he felt her deepen the kiss, her tongue moving, entwining with his. Stroking and exploring his fangs until he felt his desire rise to match hers.

He watched this familiar stranger through golden eyes. Her dark hair caught up in a chic style, her midnight blue strapless dress accentuating her skin pallor. He pulled away, breathing hard. He smiled into her eyes, as golden as his own. Her heaving bosom threatening the fragility of her dress.

Lazily and very much in control again he trailed his hands up her body from her waist and tangled them in her hair, pulling free the pins which held it, delighting in the dark cascade which fell around her shoulders. She rolled her head to one side revealing her slender pale neck for him. Once again, being the gentle, controlled man he'd always been with her, he grazed her skin and slowly sipped the droplets of blood which rose to the surface ready to be taken and enjoyed. Her taste, as spicy as the wine, beguiled him. He felt his control slipping away into her heady passion, feeding and stoking their desire. He bit deeper, his pleasure rising, spiralling towards ecstasy as he filled his mouth with her blood. Her memories ran through his mind, painting vivid pictures for him which effortlessly transported him back through two millennia.

*

"This is the final list Sir."

At last, Lucius muttered to himself. Administration wasn't the most favoured part of his duties but, as in everything else, he did it well.

"Gold, some silver, household items, a carved wooden chest filled with spices..."

The inventory went on and on. Meticulous and carefully inscribed and rather too complete for Gaius.

The last item caught his attention.

"This girl, where is she?"

Lucius would not have believed it possible but he could swear Gaius coloured up slightly.

"Gaius?"

"She's .... next door General."

"Next door, in your office?"

"Sir."

Lucius laughed out loud.

"Gaius, if you've a fancy for this daughter of the house, you may have her. I wish you well of her."

Gaius stood to attention, his whole bearing radiating annoyance.

"She is in my office because she reads and scribes well, Sir."

Lucius realised his error. Gaius hadn't found himself a young lover for ease and comfort in his bed but a scribe to lift the burden of his administration.

"Gaius, my friend, my apologies. Send this paragon in. I wish to see her."

"Sir," he nodded his grizzled head in acknowledgement.

He returned a few minutes later with a young woman in tow. She bowed low and showed all the proper obeisance's but she did not act like the slave she had become, but still the daughter of a noble warrior attending an honoured guest.

Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in the Greek fashion, a plain style but practical. Her figure, rounded and womanly. Her dark eyes dominated a face which while not beautiful was comely and pleasant to look upon. She was older than he had imagined from the cold description in the list. Lucius took all this detail in at a glance. He also now knew why Gaius had taken an interest in her. Her manner and appearance were that of his daughter, Calpurnia. Her death in childbirth had hit the older warrior very hard.

"Why did your father allow you to be educated?" Lucius asked, sharply.

"So that I could help him."

Gaius nudged her.

"Sir," she added. Her reply concise and to the point.

"You are unmarried?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Why? You are above suitable age for marriage."

She shrugged. "My father did not wish it, Sir."

"Do you always obey your father so well?"

"I hope I did, Sir." Her voice shook in her reply.

He must be getting tired. A second error. Her father had died in the fighting. A valiant and honourable warrior. A man Lucius could respect.

He felt unexpectedly touched by this woman. He got to his feet and looked down at her from his greater height, gripped her shoulder and said, "You do honour to your father's house. What is your name?"

She blinked back her tears and gave him a tremulous smile. "Thank you Sir. Gaius has given me the name Livia."

"A noble name. Good choice Gaius."

He gripped his old friend's shoulder with his other hand. Gaius acknowledged the compliment with a bow of his head, then he asked

"May I speak with you Sir?"

"Have you ever needed permission?"

Gaius' face twitched, the closest to a smile he could manage, then he turned back to Livia. "Go back to your duties."

"Yes Sir." She bowed to both and left with a measured step.

Lucius could almost read his friend's mind.

"Yes Gaius," he said, keeping his tone neutral.

'It's about Livia, Sir."

Lucius waited in silence.

"Take her, as is your privilege, Lucius. She can be useful to us here."

He considered the request. They both knew a virgin slave certainly wouldn't reach Rome in the condition she left the camp. She probably wouldn't even reach Rome, period. And she would not be a burden if permitted to remain, her skill with the stylus would ensure that. Also, if it was known she was the commander's slave, none of the soldiers would dare to touch her. "You are fond of this woman, Gaius?"

"Not fond. I respect her. She worked diligently cataloguing the contents of her father's house after..." he stopped knowing he had betrayed himself.

"After the battle?"

"No. Some of the men found her hanging, not quite dead. She'd tried to commit suicide. They were drawing lots for who would be the first to rape her."

"And she reminds you of your daughter Calpurnia?"

"She was lying so still. I almost thought I was looking at Calpurnia on her funeral pyre."

Each man fell silent, alone with their thoughts until Lucius made his decision and broke the silence.

"I grieved with you on Calpurnia's death. If this one can ease your heart, I'll use her kindly. Add her to my list."

Gaius smiled his grateful thanks.

"Sir."

*

Livia arrived shortly after Gaius had left.

"You wished to see me, my lord?"

Lucius didn't look up from his writing.

"You'll be sleeping here in future. You are now my personal property. When you are not required there is a small room opposite which you will use
for sleeping."

She remained silent, her head hung low.

"Do you understand?" He asked her sharply.

"Yes, my lord Lucius."

"Bring writing tablets and anything else you have left with Gaius. Take your clothing to the room opposite then return quickly. We have work to
do."

"Yes, my lord." She bowed low and ran to do his bidding.

*

She readied her materials and waited for him to give her more orders.

Lucius could see her hands trembling from where he was sitting at his table. He ignored it. He wasn't particularly bothered if his slave was happy or not, as long as she did as she was told. He continued with daily business, making good use of Livia's skills. As dusk fell and the lamps were lit, Lucius decided to cease work whilst they ate.

His attempts at making conversation with her weren't noticeably successful. She answered his questions in as few words as possible and refused to meet his eyes.

Lucius sighed inwardly. This could be a difficult evening. He slowly mixed a jug of honey and wine, adding precious spices to the sweetened liquid, then warming it gently. He poured some of the mix into two goblets, giving one to Livia, retaining the other for himself. A long silence stretched over the room as he contemplated the tablets of wax she had been using.

"Good," he smiled kindly at her. "You may transcribe these tomorrow. Let me know when they are finished."

"Sir."

"Drink your wine, Livia."

"If I have too much wine sir, I won't be able to work well."

"We have finished work for this evening," he said decisively, gathering up the tablets.

"Do you wish me to leave, sir?"

He examined the dregs in his cup before he answered. He knew she was frightened and he was trying, as far as he was able, to help her, but she wasn't helping herself. He changed places to sit beside her, close enough to touch her arm. He felt her flinch at his proximity then he caught sight of the fading marks around her neck. She must be thinking all her worst nightmares were coming true. First she had lost her father and the rest of her family through battle with the Romans. Then she had been prevented from joining them in death and now she belonged body, mind and spirit to the man who had led the battle.

"Livia," he began, not unkindly, "I don't wish to hurt you, but you can either accept me and my protection or if that is too unpleasant for you, you can take your chances with the men in the barracks."

She swallowed hard. He was so cool and distant and she could sense a cruel streak in him but anything was better than being thrown to rest of the brigade!

"It's j..j..just, I mean, I've never been married, sir." She finally stammered out, her face as red as the wine.

"I know you're not married. I asked you this afternoon, I haven't forgotten. It's not going to be that disagreeable. You may even enjoy it!" he added dryly.

She looked up at his face, her eyes, if it were possible, even darker against her pale skin.

"The wine will help. Drink some more and tell me when you learned to scribe."

He hadn't any qualms about raping her, any time he wanted her, but it made life easier if the partner were willing.

She picked up the goblet and took a deep draught. By the time she had finished the first one, she was feeling more relaxed. Lucius kept her talking, asking questions about her earlier life. As she talked he kept refilling her cup. From her conversation it became obvious to him she had been a delicate child, but her father's favourite. Two possible reasons why he hadn't wanted her to marry. She was a bright girl and well organised, but her father, judging from her childhood health, had probably assumed she wouldn't survive a pregnancy, so he'd tried to protect her. More than ever Lucius thought he'd been a worthy opponent.

Clinically he looked her over as she spoke. Her complexion was clear and her colour better than it had been. She appeared to be reasonably strong now. Nevertheless Lucius had a sudden premonition that he wouldn't have Livia's company for very long.

He dismissed it as a product of his imagination and the wine. By now she was on her fourth cup and leaning against him. He draped his arm across her shoulders, she leaned gratefully into his warmth and started to giggle quietly.

"I think I've had too much to drink, Sir," she said softly.

He knew she had. He'd made sure of that.

"That's alright, Livia. Just this once," he replied as he drained his cup.

He looked down into her upturned face.

"I won't forget this kindness, my lord."

As he looked into her eyes he had a sudden insight into why she had been so protected and he knew Gaius was right, there was a gentle warmth and nobility about this woman which wormed it's way into the heart. Even a heart as stony as his. He permitted a smile to flit across his features as he leaned forward to kiss her. Her lips were sweet and warm with the taste of honey, and just as importantly, from his point of view, she didn't try to evade him.

He helped her to her feet, guided her to his sleeping apartments and efficiently undressed her.

Livia was too sleepy with the wine to care much, as he'd intended. He discarded his tunic and lay beside her on the sleeping platform stroking her face and body then kissing where his hands had touched her skin.

Lucius had judged her well. After one brief moment of discomfort Livia began to enjoy his lovemaking. Her emotional release when it came was as unlooked for as it was unexpected. Lucius gasped in surprise as his own release overwhelmed his control. He lay with her and held her for far longer than he'd intended. Savagely he beat down the feelings she engendered in him. He would not become attached to a slave! She was simply a means to an end. Keeping her would keep Gaius happy, her scribing would keep them both happy and her presence in his bed, on his terms, would not be any hardship.

Livia adapted well. She wasn't unhappy with her situation and her master was pleased with her, for the present at least. There were only two occasions over the following months when Lucius told her to sleep in her own room. Both times were when high ranking officials were visiting. Even during the times of the month when she had been expected to keep out of the way of the men, as in her father's household, Lucius still insisted she share his room if not his bed.

*

This evening another dinner was being given for a visiting commander.

Livia helped to prepare Lucius for the dinner. Whilst not a very formal affair, she could see he looked the best of all invited.

Before he left he leaned forward and kissed her mouth, then looked longingly at her. He would have preferred to spend the evening with her. He enjoyed her mind as well as her body.

He smiled, then said "You'd better sleep in your own room tonight. I don't know what time this will end. We have much to do tomorrow, we will be moving on soon, so we shall be needing your skills more than ever."

Livia looked up at him, all her questions in her face.

"I'm not leaving you behind. Gaius and myself have no intention of going back to our old way of working."

She smiled up at him, grateful and more than a little pleased. She enjoyed his company, or rather the unpredictable excitement he caused.

"Goodnight Livia."

"Goodnight my lord."

As he was leaving she turned to the desk they virtually shared and began sorting through the tasks for the next day. Lucius glanced back and saw her moving smoothly into working.

"Livia." He called softly.

"My lord?"

"Don't spend all evening working."

"No, my lord."

"And remember to take some food and wine this evening."

"Yes, my lord," she replied smiling at him, then returning to organising the morrow as soon as he left the room.

The dinner and entertainment's had gone on until the early morning.

Lucius awoke several hours later feeling the unmistakable effects of too much wine. He arose and bathed feeling irritable. His irritation increased when he found Livia hadn't arrived. She knew there was much to do today, and he saw no point in doing the scribing himself.

"Livia!" he bellowed, loud enough to reverberate the cup on his table. It didn't improve his aching head or his temper.

Still she didn't appear.

It did bring Gaius in though. He looked as puffy eyed as Lucius felt. "Where is she?" Gaius asked quietly.

"In her own room. I dismissed her last night before the dinner. Go and fetch her, we have work to do."

Gaius nodded gingerly and made his way out. Lucius set about getting ready for the day.

"M' lord?" Gaius said hesitantly from the doorway, his face had gone grey under his tan. Lucius could see into the open room behind him, Livia still
under her blankets. "She's dead my lord."

Lucius stopped, then moved quickly past Gaius into Livia's tiny room. the face which lay on the pillow was so pale as to be almost translucent.

He knelt beside the pallet and placed a hand on her chest. No answering beat sounded. She was cold, stiff and very dead. He pulled the blanket from her, expecting to see a knife wound, blood or something to tell him how an apparently healthy woman had died in less than twelve hours. There was nothing.

"What manner of ailment brings such a swift death Gaius?"

For answer Gaius raised Lucius to his feet and pulled him from the room.

"A few of the men in the barracks and some slaves have died in this way.

'Tis some strange pestilence this country breeds, my lord. We must take everything from this room and burn it."

Grimly Lucius ordered, "See to it, Gaius. Have a pyre built as soon as possible. She shall go to her gods in the Roman manner."

Gaius nodded his acknowledgement and left to make the preparations.

Lucius entered his own rooms slowly, every moment expecting to see her dark head bent over her writing tablets. He found it difficult to comprehend how much he was already missing his slave.

Lacroix turned to look at the cool body lying beside his own, the slightly pink sheen of their blood sweat mimicking a sexual flush.

"Where is your master?" Lacroix suddenly asked "Or should the question be who is your master?"

"My master was your master's master. We parted paths a long time ago."

He smiled, "How we are all related."

He could feel sleep not far away. Livia nudged him.

"Lucius, don't go to sleep yet."

"Any particular reason?" he asked, beginning to look interested.

"I have something to tell you. The reason I'm here."

He lifted one eyebrow questioningly.

"Someone is trying to kill you."

He laughed mirthlessly.

"Then they are about two thousand years too late."


"Not mortal death, true death."

"How do you know?"

"Gossip, rumour.."

"Hearsay?"

"It's up to you if you choose not to listen. But you must have noticed the mood of the community?"

"A temporary mood of excitement only."

"Temporary until someone deals with you."

"Why me?"

"You're one of the most senior among us.."

"Apart from you."

"Ah, but I belong to a part of the community which is rather private."

He paused a moment before saying, "You obviously take this seriously."

"Seriously enough to seek you out."

"Why? Don't expect me to believe you've been in love with me this long."

She laughed, "Sorry to disappoint you my dear."

She paused, gathering her thoughts, then continued, "You treated me well. I am fond of you, but most of all this my repayment for your kindness in giving a very frightened woman honeyed, spiced wine to dull her fears."

Lacroix felt unexpectedly humbled by her words. An emotion with which he generally had very little truck. He remained silent as he felt Livia's body relax into sleep. Her suggestion that someone was out to kill him he found disturbing. He felt even more so when he realised how much he had missed the comfort and security of sleeping with her.

*

Lacroix awoke late the next evening. Nothing remained of his extraordinary meeting with Livia save for the lingering taste of her blood. He bathed, dressed and made his way to the radio station for his broadcast, which was uncharacteristically light for once.

Nick listened for a few minutes then smiled. With Lacroix in such a good mood life could be looking up. Maybe tonight would be a good time to ask him about the odd mood within the community. It had even penetrated Nick's senses, so to someone like Lacroix there may be more information to be gleaned. The high level of anticipation tickled his vampire senses all through the rest of the shift. Conveniently it was a slow night for business, but it made concentrating on the routine difficult. He decided to knock off slightly early and go to 'The Raven'.

"Hello Nickolai." Jeannette greeted him, then offered him a drink, which he refused.

The mood in the club was if anything, more electric than on the streets.

"What is going on?" Nick asked.

"I'm not sure, cherie, but it is having quite an effect on sales."

Nick carefully looked around. There wasn't one mortal in the area. At that moment two men walked in through the street door.

"Are you expecting trouble?" Nick murmured to Jeannette.

"Non."

"Those two are a lot older than the rest of us," Nick replied.

"Enforcers?"

"More than a probability."

Jeannette placed her glass on the bar and gracefully strode over to the newcomers, closely followed by Nick.

"May I help you gentlemen?" she asked politely

"No, thank you. We are just here merely to enjoy the ambience and the music."

Somehow Nick didn't believe punk rock had become a hit in the Enforcer community but he said nothing.

Instead he felt for the bond he shared with Lacroix. He knew he was quite close by, and getting closer. He was flying Nick realised. Just cruising around the rooftops of the city. He felt an acknowledgement and knew he wouldn't have long to wait.

Lacroix entered the club, looking as urbane as ever.

"Nicholas," he greeted his son. "I see we have some interesting 'patrons' this evening."

"They claim they're here to enjoy the music."

"You do surprise me."

"They surprise me too."

Jeannette glided up to them and said,

"A package arrived for you Lacroix. I had it put in your rooms."

"Thank you Jeannette."

"Lacroix what's the reason for all the excitement?"

"I'm not sure Nicholas. I too am curious to know."

Nick became aware that Jeannette, Lacroix and himself were the subjects of some scrutiny, including the two Enforcers, who were approaching the trio. They didn't waste any time on preliminaries.

"May we have a word Lacroix?" the taller one asked.

"Of course."

"In private," the second one said, looking meaningfully at Nick and Jeannette.

"My office?"

The taller one motioned for Lacroix to precede them.

A few minutes later Nick and Jeannette stopped in mid-conversation as they simultaneously felt their bond with Lacroix fade then resume.

Nick, unthinkingly, used vampire speed to reach Lacroix's rooms. He rushed in, the vampire in total control, only to come up against the triple force
of his father and the two Enforcers. He was held momentarily in mid-flight then flung back against the wall and held there in a far stronger grip.

"What are you doing to him?" Nick snarled at the Enforcers.

Jeanette plowed in, to be greeted in the same manner. She too was in full vampire hunting mode, struggling against the invisible bonds which held her whilst as the same time trying to reach Lacroix.

Nick felt the force against him reduce a little.

"Release them," Lacroix requested of the Enforcers.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he replied.

As soon as his children were free they ran to stand in front of him, forming a barrier between their father and the Enforcers.

"What did they do to you?" Nick asked over his shoulder.

"Nothing," came the calm reply. "I'm afraid that little demonstration wasn't for your benefit. But thank you both for your concern."

"What do you mean?" Jeannette screamed at him.

Her question was greeted with a stony silence. The two Enforcers regarded her as might a scientist with a new specimen under his microscope.

"Well?" Jeannette snarled into the silence. The taller enforcer shifted his gaze slightly to look at Lacroix.

"You may tell them," he said, his voice cool.

"Very well Lacroix," he then turned to Nick and Jeannette, as if addressing an auditorium rather than an annoyed audience of two.

"I'm sure you are not unaware of the feelings of anticipation and excitement pervading the community."

"Is anyone unaware?" Jeannette asked under her breath.

"We have had information passed to us which could pose a serious threat to all the senior members of our community."

"All?"

The enforcer nodded.

"There have been many reports that a young vampire has managed to gain access to a lot of, what was previously presumed, lost information."

"So, how exactly does this concern Lacroix? Apart from his seniority," Nick asked.

"The information has regards to the transfer of powers from master to child."

"Transfer of powers?"

The Enforcers remained stubbornly silent.

Lacroix smiled slightly then continued,

"This transfer can only take place if the child causes the 'true death' of their own master."

The light dawned on Nick.

"So you thought we were rushing in to kill him now?"

The taller one bristled, "No, we didn't expect you to kill him, otherwise we would have dealt with you first."

Neither Nick or Jeannette doubted his sincerity!

"I believe I've asked this before but, how does this concern Lacroix?"

"They think one of my children is trying to prove the theory."

Nick and Jeannette exchanged looks.

"Are we going to have the chance to find out who our murderous sibling is, prior to your demise?" Nick asked, not entirely sarcastically.

"As soon as I find out, I promise you'll be the second to know."

"How did you break our connection?" Jeannette asked curiously.

This time Lacroix couldn't answer her question. "That was courtesy of our 'friends' here. I don't know how they did that."

He didn't add that for one terrible moment he knew how completely alone he'd felt and it had frightened him badly.

"Why did you do that?" she asked

"Either to protect him," Nick answered for them. "or to use him as bait."

"Bait?"

"Our sibling will have felt the loss of the link. Would they have felt the re-instatement?"

"Yes, they would."

"So, whoever is wanting your death Lacroix, will now assume someone else has almost succeeded.

"You're obviously an asset to your chose profession," the shorter enforcer remarked dryly.

"And the chief suspects will be Jeannette and I."

"That could not be helped."

"Be on your guard, ma cherie," Nick said to Jeannette. "You may find someone after you too."

"Your opinion of my parenting warms my heart, Nicholas," Lacroix snapped.

Remembering some of the things he had done to him over the years, Nick hadn't too much regard for his altruism where his children were concerned. "Apologies, Father."

Lacroix inclined his head graciously, his icy blue eyes never leaving Nick's face.

"Can't you feel who is the culprit through your link," Nick asked.

"Do you think we would be going through this charade if I could?"

Nick had a sudden insight of what that must be like for him. To be told that one of his children was planning to rob him of his power and life, or rather unlife, and not to be able to feel which one. An adversary like that would not be shrugged off too easily. Nick felt the hair on the back of neck prickle as the implications sank in. A faint relaxation of the elder vampire's features became evident as he caught the emotion from Nick.

"You don't appear to be terribly surprised by all this," Jeannette pointed out.

LaCroix paused. "I'm not. I had a prior warning."

Nick raised his eyebrows questioningly, but there was no answer forthcoming and he knew better than to press the point.

"So what do we do now? Sit back and wait," Nick asked.

"A much under-rated course of action. We will do precisely that," LaCroix replied in a tone which brooked no argument.

Nick shrugged and made his way to the door. "In that case, I'll say goodnight. Jeannette. Lacroix. Gentleman."

"Nicholas!"

He turned to look at Lacroix.

"Take care."

He smiled and then left.

Under the circumstances it wasn't much of a surprise to anyone that Lacroix neglected to open his mysterious package. Not only had he had to cope with his Enforcer protection squad but some of the fledglings were responding to the insidious knowledge in a most unseemly manner. These days Lacroix thought, cleaning his fingernails, my hands never seem to be free of ashes.

This last fledgling had made a spirited attempt to intimidate Lacroix.

Which, in truth, was the main reason his remains were blowing about in the sun outside.

Lacroix irritably swilled his hands again then inspected the results.

It would have to suffice. He felt tired, almost weary. Stress of the situation. He still hadn't figured out which one, if any, of his 'children' were wishing to claim his powers. With the possible exceptions of Jeannette and Nicholas, the others were relatively young with the associated inability to control their present potential. He had spent many hours sifting through blood memories he had of each of them. Reviewing Nick's character he knew there wouldn't be anything too underhand coming from that quarter.

Underneath he was still the medieval knight with a code of honour.

Jeannette? She had her own standards but he couldn't entertain the idea that she would try anything like that. That left the two others still surviving, Dr Hunter and Don Constantine. Don wouldn't lower himself.

Alise Hunter topped the list of suspects. Her job gave her access to many rare artefacts, whilst her unmistakable partiality for Nick above himself could also provide a reasonable motive. Again though, he doubted his reasoning, logical though it appeared. She was also a very intelligent woman who would have worked out that she wouldn't be able to control her new abilities.

A further possibility had occurred to him, but he had almost dismissed that one too.

Could Livia be mistaken? A vampire even older than himself, with some little tricks that even he couldn't fathom?

Doubtful.

Tired though he was, repose was a long time in coming to claim his conscious mind. When, at last, sleep overcame him, he dreamt such vivid images he felt very little rested in the evening. Livia haunted him. She appeared in every dream. Sometimes as he'd known her when they were both mortal, other times as a rapidly decaying body, her screaming providing an echoing counterpoint. Overall a piercing, emerald green, light shone, making everything look sick. The last dream was the worst. He was holding her, making unhurried love, when there was a flash and the echo of an explosion a split second after the light. Suddenly he was no longer holding her soft responsive body, instead he was holding something which more closely resembled the remains of a road accident. A very old road accident.

They were both pierced with clouds of wooden splinters mixed with lumps of silver, the whole lot soaked in holy water. Where the water or silver touched their bodies their skin turned to grey ash. Livia's body had provided protection for all but his hands, arms and head. He watched in horror as his hands flaked away, the ash running up his arms like a tidal wave of grey death. Even in his dreams Lacroix could feel the excruciating pain.

Livia's high pitched screams of agony gradually growing less as she perished. Behind him he could hear someone laughing. Louder and louder, as
they died by inches.

He awoke with a start, his breathing harsh and loud in the quiet dimness of his room. He rested for a few minutes before getting up and into the shower. He stood for a long time under soothing warm shower jets, watching the pink water gradually run clear.

He emerged, dried and dressed himself, a decision crystallising.

Lastly he turned his attention to the bed and savagely dragged the stained linen from it, throwing it in a corner of the room. Burying the special delivery beneath layers of damp sheets.

Lacroix's grim mood pervaded 'The Raven' very quickly. The atmosphere became noticeably less anticipatory and took on a distinct twinge of fear.

The two Enforcers almost standing to attention as he strode from his room. He glared at the one on the right, noticing for the first time the vampire's piercing green eyes. He turned to the shorter one, on his left. The brown eyes met his with a lot less of their usual arrogance, even a little respect creeping into his expression. Lacroix strode through the club, a path opening before him, the two Enforcers following. He turned and snarled menacingly at them. His fangs descending quickly as his eyes glowed predator red. As a man they took a step backwards out of his range.

Lacroix reached the door and immediately took off. Far too fast to be followed by the Enforcers, or so he thought. Several minutes later as he flew high over the city he had the distinct impression he wasn't quite as alone as he appeared. Whoever was shadowing his flight was keeping a very low profile. That suited him fine, he wasn't in the mood for company.

He spread his senses searching for a specific person. He encountered her walking by the wharf. He landed behind her, the vampire still in control. Without preamble he spun her around, holding her face with both of his hands. Carefully exerting his will he made his request. Slowly she pushed the sleeve of her coat up her arm and offered him her wrist. He took the proffered limb and bit, savouring the scent and taste of her. It had been a long, long time since he'd shared blood with any of his children. He let himself take two mouthfuls of her delicious blood before he knew she was not the one. Her blood soothed him somewhat. He could feel her questioning through their bond. Simply for the sake of expediency he bit down on his own wrist. Eagerly she suckled at the flowing food. Drinking in his plan along with his blood. She licked the last drops as the cut healed, then dropped a kiss on his skin.

"Not alone?" she questioned.

"Alone," he growled, then left as suddenly as he'd arrived.

Don was as easily persuaded as Jeannette had been. Again, nothing. He tracked Nick down at his loft, just as he was leaving for work. The persuasion wasn't quite as easy here. In fact he received an emphatic reply.

"No!"

Lacroix wasn't in the mood for pandering to anyone. At the back of his mind a calm controlled Lacroix pointed out just how badly this was bound to affect his relationship with Nick, unfortunately the maddened and impetuous Lacroix was in control. He circled Nick like a cat playing with a mouse.

Nick could see he wasn't joking. Part of him rebelled against this high handed treatment, whilst another part of him admired the, for once, direct approach. He knew Lacroix wouldn't give up without a struggle, and Nick was already late for work. Resignedly he began to undo his shirt sleeve but Lacroix was too quick for him. As soon as he'd sensed his acquiescence he was standing behind him, tilting his head to one side to give himself access to the vein. As his master's fangs pierced his skin Nick felt his own fangs descend and his eyes change colour as the vampire rose in response to his master's attention.

He'd forgotten quite how pleasurable this could be. In his quest for mortality he had been determined to 'forget' about anything which could be deemed pleasant from this life. Immediately he was annoyed with himself for responding so easily to Lacroix. Angrily he pulled away and sank his fangs into Lacroix's neck, meaning to hurt him, to pay him back for this. The emotions coming through to his mind as blood filled his mouth made him stop almost as soon as he'd begun. He could feel anger against this unknown, a little fear too, but the over-riding emotion was his love for his son and the fear of losing him. Nick felt abashed by his previous lack of compassion. Despite the pain they'd caused each other over the centuries, there would always be that bond. For one brief instant both had as clear an understanding of the other as possible. Then he was gone again, leaving Nick as near to peaceful as he'd been in a very long time.

Lacroix's last quarry proved more elusive that the rest, but he persevered. He knew she was somewhere in the city.

Finally he thought he'd tracked her down in the city museum's library. He was much calmer after his encounter with Nick. Quietly he landed on the roof, intending to make a discreet entrance, when suddenly the contact stopped. He reeled in shock at the sudden cessation then tried forcibly to strengthen the bond only to have his efforts turned aside and slide into nothing. This was becoming familiar.

"Livia!" he bellowed, discretion forgotten.

"Yes Lucius?" came the sweet reasonable reply, as she appeared quietly beside him. Delicately she wiped her lips with a finger. He could see fluid shining on her skin and smelt fresh blood. He caught her hand and licked the blood off. It carried the unmistakable taste of Alise Hunter.

"What have you done with her?" he asked in a conversational tone.

"Oh, she's quite safe. I'm afraid it appears my information was incorrect about you."

"I'm not the one being hunted?"

"Quite correct my dear. Quite correct," Livia replied in a slightly distracted tone.

Thoughtfully he tried to extract as much information from the few drops of Alise' blood as he could. Green. Emerald green. That colour again.

Why green? Quite suddenly Lacroix knew the reason for her preoccupation.

He gathered her in his arms and held her, she allowed herself this comfort for a short time.

"How is Alise involved in this?" He asked softly.

"She's been used rather badly by someone who should know better."

"She holds the knowledge?"

"Quite happily. She also knows she cannot hope to control such an increase in power with her relative youth in this life."

"He thinks he can?"

"He's half our age Lucius, but he's arrogant enough to think that, yes."

"I can't imagine why you allow him to display such arrogance.

"It comes in useful sometimes." she remarked cryptically. "Shall we go my dear?"

For answer he took off with her, heading back towards 'The Raven'.

Livia flew fast and high. They had decided that Lacroix should go in first. She entered the club quietly, not allowing any to sense her presence. She watched. Her sons, the Enforcers kept an equally careful watch. She could feel Anayan reaching out through their bond, trying to find her. Torn between telling her they had lost Lacroix and keeping a close eye on his brother Drusillus. Anayan, the elder, though quieter one, could read people well, whether mortal or immortal. No doubt a hangover from his mortal life as a highly prized whore. He'd needed to read moods quickly and accurately in his profession. Drusillus she had chosen because he had reminded her of Lucius. His arrogance and greed though, had far utstripped his abilities.

However, as she had told Lucius, arrogance of that calibre was useful.

It cowed wrongdoers and fooled most into imagining he could back up his unspoken threats.

She mentally prepared herself, as much as she could. Lacroix entered 'The Raven' and moved towards his rooms. Anayan visibly heaved a sigh of relief to see him again, Drusillus merely glared. Livia smiled. Oh Drusillus, you are antagonising the wrong vampire! He'll tear you apart without breaking sweat. Briefly she wondered if she should make a community example of him. But looking around, the as yet, half empty club she knew most of the immortals were young. Not much more than fledglings in her eyes.

Very few over the four century mark. No, this should be kept low key.

She let Lucius go to his rooms, the Enforcers with him, then very discreetly she followed on behind.

As she entered the room and shut the door quietly she could hear Anayan arguing with Lacroix.

".....we're here to protect you. To ensure the safety of a senior member of the community. Can you imagine what would have happened if the death threat had been carried out?"

"No, I can't" Lacroix stated

"The fledglings would have gone wild. More so than they are now. Your leaving here was irrational and ill-thought out..."

"That's enough," Livia murmured, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear and be aware of her presence.

"On the contrary, my expedition this evening.."

"I said that's enough!" Livia repeated.

Lacroix felt stunned when he realised his former slave had included him in her imperative.

Coldly she turned to her older child and stated

"I wish to feed Anayan."

He dipped his head in deference and replied, "I will find you sustenance, my lady."

"...from you, Anayan."

"My lady?" he questioned, puzzled. The fact she had requested food at this point was strange enough, but generally any exchange of blood between them was done in private.

She advanced towards him, her fangs glistening, her eyes red. He only knew a moments hesitation before he quickly removed his jacket, then unbuttoned his black shirt and removed that too. His slightly olive skin tone shone pale against the darkness of the wood panelled room. He trusted her completely, but felt perplexed at this development. At the moment it seemed as if she was going to make an example of him. He let his emotions lead him. He knelt at her feet and looked up to her face.

"You made me. Whatever I have is yours," he said simply, spreading his arms away from his sides, symbolically offering her his body.

She smiled down into his eyes. "You ever had a pretty way with words. I am very hungry Anayan."

Lacroix had gathered her intent when she demanded to be fed. At her last remark Drusillus suddenly knew she was warning Anayan to prepare for his death.

Slowly and deliberately she stalked around him, to end by standing behind him, placing her hands on top of his head.

"A thousand apologies for however I have sinned against you," he said quietly.

"Oh, I think you know very well what you have done."

"In truth I know not."

"Oh come now Anayan. Do you take me for a fool?"

"Never, my lady."

"The knowledge of the Ancients. This plot to murder me and in so doing take my power into yourself."

"Murder you!" he exclaimed, his eyes flickering involuntarily to Drusillus.

Then he fell silent, thinking hard.

"You don't deny it."

"Take my blood. You need do no more than that to discover the truth," he took her right hand from his hair and placed it one his shoulder, then tilted his head to give her access.

"If I find you've lied to me Anayan, I will drain you."

"If I lie then I deserve my death at your hands."

Livia slowly knelt behind Anayan. Gently she ran the tip of he tongue along his neck. He shivered, whether from pleasure of dread Lacroix couldn't tell. Drusillus couldn't take his eyes off the scenario being acted out in front of him. She was going to kill him, and the fool was going to let
her.

Once she tasted blood he knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

Drusillus had made it his business to know when she fed. The last time had been more than a week ago. His reverie was rudely interrupted by Anayan's gasp of pain as Livia drove her fangs deep into his vein. His face contorted, his breathing loud and ragged, every tendon in his neck standing out as his instinct for survival warred with his desire to let his master use him as she wished.

Very, very quickly his body fell limp. Livia lowered his still form to the floor, a small rivulet of blood snaking a trail across his now barely moving chest. Lacroix stared hard at her, his eyes yellowed and his fangs ready.

He was totally unprepared for how exciting and arousing he would find this little drama.

Livia stood and wiped her lips.

"Now it's your turn Drusillus. I'm still hungry."

"No!"

"No? You refuse me food?"

"I refuse you my death," he stated baldly, paling even further.

"You're insane, he wouldn't plot to kill you."

"Yes, I know," she stated in an even tone. "I knew from the first drop of his blood, but someone has been following me, keeping a note of my movements. I thought it was Anayan. He won't be doing that again."

Drusillus had the impression that the game rules had been changed but no-one had told him. He shook his head to try and get the world back into it's normal course.

"Oh, by the way I visited your new amour this evening. She was most helpful. Such a pity to lose such a good scientific mind," she sighed, then
said smiling, "but she went to a good cause."

"Alise is dead?"

"She's been dead for years Drusillus!" Livia laughed.

Comprehension came in a blinding flash of insight. "She was losing it! She'd gone over the edge with all this talk of the knowledge of the ancients. What better time to do her a favour and put her out of her misery.

"Now, am I going to have to take your blood, or will you give it as willingly as Anayan?"

"Master, no. If you're hungry I will bring you as much as you need. We can share the kill, as we used to. Do you remember?"

"Of course I remember. I may be old but my mind hasn't gone yet."

"Well you're not quite yourself, you haven't fed in over a week and ...."

"How do you know when I fed Drusillus?" she asked softly advancing on him.

He remained silent. Stupid to betray himself like that.

"I ... I just happened to notice, my lady." he stammered. This shouldn't be happening he thought. These two should have gone to perdition days ago!

He tried to circle around away from Livia, but this meant passing in front of Lacroix. He wasn't sure what the senior vampire would do. He tried his best to keep his eyes on both of them. He missed the almost imperceptible shake of Livia's head as she responded to the question in Lacroix's eyes.

With a vast effort he obeyed. At that precise moment Lacroix would have happily torn Drusillus limb from limb and considered it insufficient payment in return for all the trouble he'd caused. Warily Drusillus stepped nearer to the chair where he could see the parcel. The mysterious parcel he'd gone to a lot of trouble to make and have delivered. Quickly he picked the box, ripped the covering from it and revealed a bottle with a note attached.

'Please join me? L' . He threw the card onto the floor.

"You were supposed to contact her and get her to come to you for a very special drink."

Livia moved to stand in front of Lacroix looking curiously at him.

Lacroix's grip on Livia's shoulders became almost painful as he beheld the object.

Drusillus smiled mirthlessly.

"I wouldn't recommend too close an investigation of this particular vintage, especially to one of our kind. Master," he added sneering. His slow back stepping encountered an obstacle. Anayan. He stepped over the body, delivering a savage kick to it's unprotected torso.

"Fool! He was actually willing to sacrifice his existence for a whim of yours. You, who've lived too long and refuse to give us your power, even when you know it should be done."

"Us, Drusillus?"

"Me!"

"And what would you do with your new found powers? How would you benefit the community"

"The community! The community can fend for itself. I will build a new community where we are the masters of this world and the mortals are herded together for our amusement. Our hunting pleasure."

"You will be very busy for the next few years bringing across all your helpers. All those fledglings to teach and stop them from bringing down discovery."

"There would be those from within who would join me."

"And the Ancients? You think they would sit back and let you bring this plan into action? Whilst I applaud your vision I despise your impracticality," Lacroix said. "We survive by secrecy and will continue to survive by secrecy. Your way we would be hunted down and destroyed in a few years."

He marvelled that he hadn't realised the extent of the vampire's insanity before this.

"We shall see," Drusillus said coldly. "Madam, I thank you for my existence. Your death will go to an even better cause. Me. My apologies Lacroix. I think under other circumstances we could been partners."

Lacroix's eyebrow lifted at this impudence.

Very delicately Drusillus twisted the top of the bottle. Their vampire hearing told them a mechanism had kicked into life inside the bottle.

"You were supposed to open this days ago Lacroix, and so save me the trouble. However, you have five seconds to say goodbye."

He placed the bottle on the floor and quickly stepped through the door, laughing loudly.

He was still laughing when the bottle hit him in the back and exploded, sending shards of silver and hawthorn wood into him.

Livia could feel a slight tremble run through Lacroix, she reached up and covered his hand with hers.

"That was a little close for comfort Anayan."

"My apologies, my lady," he replied with a grin, leaning against the door.

"I didn't want him to suspect anything and change his plans."

"Next time you two are going to do anything like this, let me know. I shall make sure I'm not in the immediate vicinity," Lacroix stated, sitting down with a sign of relief.

Livia strode across to Anayan and into his arms. He smiled, his teeth showing very white against his skin. His eyes half shut with pleasure as he held her tight against his body. Lacroix saw them and turned away feeling a stab of jealousy at their relationship. He couldn't ever envisage having such an easy with relationship with his son. A sound of cracking wood and a dull wet thud roused his attention. Anayan was no longer smiling. His eyes were wide with shock. His arms tightened convulsively around Livia as his knees sagged. It took a second for Lacroix to assimilate the sight f
a wooden shaft protruding from Livia's back.

"Lucius," her weak whisper wouldn't have carried to mortal ears.

He sprang across the room not knowing where to start to separate this grotesque parody of a loving hug. He moved Anayan's arms to free Livia. His skin felt flaky and was taking on a distinct tinge of grey. Exerting all his strength Lacroix broke off the shaft as close to Livia as he could. The wood was already slick with their combined blood.

He pulled her back towards him with all his might. The wood shrieked as it worked through the door. He ceased pulling. If he wasn't careful they would both fall on him and impale him on the end of the stake. Livia had passed out at the first attempt. Anayan lifted his head grasping the stake protruding from his chest with both hands he looked at Lacroix.

"Now!" he whispered as he braced himself and pulled in the opposite direction.

Lacroix pulled hard, feeling the wood slide sickeningly through her body.

He lay Livia on the floor then went back to help Anayan. In that short a time he could see it was already too late. He watched, with real sorrow, as Anayan's body crumbled to dust. Angrily he pulled the shaft through the door and broke it in two, slamming the pieces in a corner.

"Help me up Lucius," Livia demanded.

"You need blood first Livia. Only your age has saved you."

Swiftly he bit down on his wrist and offered her the sustenance she needed to badly. She turned her head away saying, "He can't have got very far..."

"Do as you're bidden , Livia," he told her, using his old tone of command.

She drank. Habitual obedience to the voice combating her shock. He allowed her to drink from him until he began to sway from weakness.

"You need more. Wait here."

He made his unsteady way into his bedroom to several bottles on the nightstand. He drank two, just to keep himself upright, then returned with the rest for her. While she fed he would tell Miklos to bring more, which would no doubt bring Jeannette and Nicholas to him, but that couldn't be helped.

When he re-entered the next room, the door was swinging gently to, the parts of the stake he had broken were missing. Only Anayan's clothes and shoes showed where he had died saving his master. He dropped the bottles to the desk and set off after her. Which way would she have gone? Up to the roof or down to the club?

Faintly over the noise of the club he heard movement far above him, then a familiar snarl. Jeannette. He made a creditable turn of speed to the roof to find not only his daughter there, but his son also. His two children were closing in on the old vampire, circling and feinting, getting closer and closer to the snarling bundle at her feet. Livia had crouched into a defensive posture, snarling at them both.

"Lacroix!" Jeannette hissed.

"Leave her!" he ordered. Then dropping his voice to his usual tone he remarked, "Nicholas. I am most gratified. Rushing to my rescue twice in less than a week. Is this a resurgence of some filial feelings?"

"Don't make a habit of this Lacroix," Nick growled at his father, then turned and flew into the night sky.

Jeannette stalked past him only stopping to ask, "This is part of the earlier business?"

He nodded.

Livia had straightened up. She was standing looking down at whatever it was at her feet. As he got closer he could see the bundled impaled to the roof. It occasionally snarled as it caught sight of Livia, but otherwise it just twitched and jerked mindlessly. It was obvious to Lacroix nothing even resembling intelligence controlled what was left of Drusillus. His body was simply going through the motions of trying to free itself from the stake which had killed his brother. The bottle had done an incredible amount of damage. Just as in his nightmare.

He touched her shoulder. She didn't turn around, her eyes never left her son's face.

"You missed his heart."

She nodded. He bent down to pull the stake out and finish the job properly.

"I'll do this alone Lucius," she said. "Go and feed."

Without a word he left her to wait with her remaining son for the dawn which would destroy what remained of his body and his insanity.

Lacroix fed well, waiting for the sun to rise. Then he assembled a good proportion of his private stock for Livia's use. His vampire sense told him dawn had broken, but still she didn't appear. He took his cloak and a heavy blanket from the cupboard and made his way to the roof. He hissed as he opened the door. The smell of charred meat made him gag. Not stopping to think he rushed to where Livia knelt. Thick tendrils of smoke curled from her blistered bubbling skin as blood which had pooled around her knees from the incompletely healed hole in her chest frothed and boiled madly as it evaporated.

He picked her up wrapping the blanket around her broken body then rushed inside, depositing his precious bundle on his bed. He should have been ready for this. She had tried suicide before. Granted, when she had been mortal, but last night's circumstances would have been enough to try
anyone's sanity.

Painstakingly he dribbled a bottle into her mouth. A lot of it ran out again but he saw her swallow a few times. The next bottle fared better, then the next. Half a case later he heard her croak, "Too weak. Couldn't get back."

"Rest my dear, and feed," he said soothingly. He felt inordinately relieved to know she hadn't made a deliberate attempt on her own life.

If she could go on after the horrors of last night, then he knew he would be able to use her example if anything like that happened to him.

He continued to feed her. Sometimes letting her drink from him, other times from a cup, when she'd drank him into weakness.

Propped up in his bed, surrounded by a sea of pillows, he rarely let Livia out of his sight. She lay alongside him, her head resting on his chest, barely able to move. Initially he'd wrapped her in a sheet until the worst of her sunburn healed, so he wouldn't hurt her as he held her. It took a long time for her terrible injuries to heal. Then there were the emotional injuries. He could do little about those, except comfort her when she needed it. She showed little emotion. In this was she was more self contained than he. Only on two occasions did her feeding turn to lovemaking. He could feel the edge of desperation in her passion, then underneath the aching chasm of loneliness and grief. He tried to salve some of the pain, but knew she would need time to heal.

Despite lying in a bed for days, this one-to-one care exhausted him, and he slept late on their fifth day together. The sun had long set when he awoke to an empty bed. A familiar smell assailed him from two glasses sitting on the nightstand. Livia offered him one glass taking the other herself.

"Where will you go?" he asked, knowing without being told what this meant.

He took a sip of the honeyed, spiced wine.

"Perhaps I'll visit your former home. Or the ruins of it," she smiled at him over the rim of her glass as she made her way over to sit on the side of his bed. She reached up to touch his face. "I'm yet again in your debt Lucius."

"Then don't wait two millennia again before you pay me back."

"No Sir. I won't," she replied.

He kissed her lips gently, savouring the cool sweetness of honey on them.

She rose smoothly and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

He wondered if he'd be able to behave with such equanimity if anything happened to Nicholas. Somehow he doubted it. Her nobility and dignity, which had captured his imagination as a mortal, had returned to seize his immortal dreams. Lacroix pondered the phenomenon which was Livia.

Beginning to feel again how empty his bed and his life felt without her there. Damn her! She'd left minutes before and already he was missing her. He contemplated the wine. A single tear slid from his ice blue eyes, down his marble cheek to drip into the glass he held. Irritably he wiped
his face with his other hand. Irritation turned instantly to vast surprise as he saw his tear was as clear as crystal.


END