Future Mortality

Immortal Past II

Part (2/?)

By Christine Hantzopulos

Erika1228@yahoo.com, arnavassara@aol.com

The warm waters of the Mediterranean lapped gently across the deserted beach, the full moon above blazing brightly against the otherwise black water. In two thousand years, little seemed to have changed here. People had, he had, but nature had not. LaCroix remembered with almost painful clarity standing on the shore of an island much like this one, lying in wait for the ambush his forces would employ to defeat the enemy soldiers. For the glory of Rome, the eternal Empire!

He smirked in a mixture of amusement and disdain. Pompeii had been engulfed by the wrath of the gods, and the entire western empire had followed just four hundred years later. Yet he had lived through it all—and more. He wondered if Caligula would have thought him a god, and begged him for the secret of his immortality.

With human eyes, the beach at midnight was an ominous presence. With his heightened senses, it looked very much the same as it had in daylight. The only ominous force here, the one that made LaCroix truly uncomfortable, was the Elder who had summoned him to his private island.

He wasn’t afraid of Stavros. Fear was reserved for the unknown, and he and Stavros had known each other for centuries. In all that time, Stavros had never challenged LaCroix’s actions, though some, such as the incident with Daniel, had drawn outright disapproval. But for the most part, the Ancient One who had seen twice as many life times as Lucien LaCroix had never pulled rank on the younger vampire. They’d shared a mutual respect, if not exactly a friendship.

But this business with Nicholas had threatened the status quo of two millennia. His introduction of Natalie Lambert into the world of vampires had put them all at risk—Natalie, because she was mortal, Nicholas, because he had broken the Code, and LaCroix because Nicholas was his progeny, and thus, his responsibility. Luckily, Dr. Lambert’s invaluable assistance to the vampire community, especially during the plague that had threatened their very existence, had earned her Stavros’ respect and trust. But were Stavros to know that they had all lied, and that her daughter Nicolette was really Nick’s daughter, a dhampir, universally considered an aberration of nature…

Were he to know that LaCroix himself had given Nicholas the secret to mortality, the so-called cure…

They would all be as good as dead.

“LaCroix?” Janette’s soft voice broke his reverie as she slipped silently across the sand to meet him. The fact that Stavros had summoned her here too could only mean that Nicholas was the source of contention.

“Shall we go inside?” he suggested, motioning to the expansive villa that stretched across the beach.

“And if he asks about Nicolas?” she asked, worry in her eyes.

“You’ve not spoken to him, correct?” LaCroix asked, trying to read her response.

“I’ve told you a dozen times, no,” she said tiredly. “Niki called me once to say that they were all right, but didn’t tell me where they were—“

“I would leave that part out, if I were you, Janette,” LaCroix advised her. “You don’t want Stavros to question you about your closeness to Natalie’s *human* daughter.”

“The poor thing wanted to tell me all about their lives—wherever they are—but Nicolas forbade her to.”

“He was wise. We know nothing of their whereabouts, so there is nothing we can give away.”

“But we know that Nick is human,” she reminded him. “And you—“

LaCroix glared at her angrily, his eyes taking on an amber glow, his fangs extended. “I did nothing! I— told— him— nothing!” he reminded her with unnecessary fierceness that he hadn’t even intended.

“I’m not a fool, LaCroix,” she admonished him, a little more boldly than she would have when he had been her sire. “I wouldn’t give the truth away to Stavros, or anyone—but it’s just a matter of time. And the frightening part is that Nick is utterly defenseless now as a mortal—“

“Don’t you think I know that?” he snarled at her before willing his features back to normal. “That,” he said, as he composed himself, “is why it’s up to us to protect him.”

But as they headed into the mansion to face the Elder who could decide their fate and Nicholas’, he wasn’t quite sure if it would be in his power to do so. And that alone did frighten him.

Any composure he had lost in front of Janette would be immovable now as he faced Stavros. The Elder knew him well, but could not read his thoughts. They had never been bound by blood. Obscuring his discomfort would not be difficult.

But as Stavros stepped towards LaCroix and Janette, any sternness they might have expected was surprisingly absent. His expression was warm, even bordering on relief. “Thank you for coming so quickly,” he said as he motioned the servant to bring over a silver tray with crystal goblets. “Please, have a drink,” he offered.

LaCroix and Janette accepted politely, as Stavros dismissed the young woman, leaving them alone. A sniff and LaCroix’s eyes warmed to amber with his thirst. “Delectable,” he commented, sipping the fresh human blood.

“Good,” Stavros said, pleased. “I’ll have my servants provide you with a couple of bottles to take with you, if you like.”

LaCroix caught Janette’s eyes, and read her relief. At least that meant they would be leaving this place.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure of this invitation?” Janette asked Stavros pleasantly, with her usual charm.

Stavros sighed deeply. “As I’m sure you may have surmised, this has to do with our friend Nicholas de Brabant.” LaCroix raised an eyebrow at the use of Nicholas’ original name, and Stavros, studying his response, said, “Yes, that’s what he is going by once again. Returning to his roots, so to speak.”

“I was not aware,” LaCroix replied. “Neither of us has seen or heard from Nicholas in the last eight months, since we left his island near Crete.”

“You might be surprised to know that he is living in Ithaca—”

“He’s still in Greece?” Janette asked.

Stavros shook his head. “No, the Ithaca in New York, in the United States. He’s a Professor of Archaeology at Cornell University.”

“An old hobby of his,” LaCroix commented. “I presume he is teaching night classes?”

He was aware of just how carefully Stavros was observing him, and showed proper surprise when the Elder replied, “No. Actually, the reports I have seem to indicate that he is completely human.”

“I seem to have underestimated Dr. Lambert’s determination,” he said appreciatively. “I presume she has found some so-called cure?”

“It would appear so,” Stavros responded, “although she now uses the name Natalie de Brabant.”

“How quaint,” LaCroix replied. “So Nicholas has fulfilled his little mortal fantasy. He’s married the girl, and will live out a pitifully short life with her and her children.” He set down his glass with a contempt he didn’t have to feign. “I hope he finds it worth the immortality he gave up for her.”

“He loves her, LaCroix,” Janette interjected, more at peace with Nick’s decision than his Sire. “And she has made him happy.”

“And he,” Stavros added, his expression growing dark, “has made her pregnant.”

Neither LaCroix nor Janette had to pretend to be shocked. It was something neither of them had really expected, though knowing about Nicolette, it should not have been a surprise.

“Well,” LaCroix recovered quickly to say, “this should be of no concern to us. If he is mortal, then so is the child.” In truth, he wasn’t certain about that, but he had to appear to be.

“But we can’t be sure,” Stavros said as if reading his thoughts. “All we know is that word of his cure, and the fact that he has impregnated his wife, has found its way across the ocean to me. And while I have certain—sympathies, towards Nicholas and the doctor, my counterparts in the New World may not be as open-minded,” he said with meaning.

“What…do you plan to do?” Janette asked boldly, not bothering to hide her concern.

Stavros looked them in the eyes. “Nicholas’ transformation—and all that has followed—creates several problems. I am not at liberty to discuss all the implications with you at this time.”

“Then why are we here?” LaCroix asked, trying to curtail his impatience. “You obviously know a great deal more than we did—or do—“

“Because I want you to warn him.”

LaCroix had no immediate response to that. Considering Stavros an ally against the Elders of the New World had not been a foregone conclusion by any means. Yet Stavros seemed to want to protect Nicholas. He wanted to ask why, but dared not. At least, not now.

“Some may consider Nicholas a threat,” Stavros explained. “ The possibility of a cure for vampirism could disturb the hierarchy of power within our world. And the existence of a dhampir—”

“You don’t know the baby will be a dhampir,” Janette broke in. “As LaCroix said, if Nick is mortal, then the baby will be.”

“And if not?” Stavros challenged. “Just the possibility endangers the child’s life. Perhaps Nicholas can claim the other children are Steven’s, but with the infant there will be no doubt.”

LaCroix shot a glance at Janette, as the same thought occurred to them at once.

Stavros had known that Nicolette was a dhampir all along. But for some reason, his “sympathies” for Nicholas and Natalie perhaps, he had not challenged the charade.

“In any case, Nicholas is in no position to protect himself,” Stavros concluded. “This is why you must go to him. Apprise him of the situation, and let him know that his anonymity has been compromised. What happens next…is up to you and Nicholas.”

Their business concluded, they took their leave of Stavros, but not before thanking him. And for the first time in two thousand years, LaCroix was glad that Stavros was his superior, not only in political power but in strength as well. He had proven to be a useful ally, and no doubt would in the days and months to come.

‘Damn you, Nicholas’, he thought to himself. He just *had* to become human. Wasn’t immortality much less troublesome?