Future Mortality

Part 29/?

By Christine Hantzopulos

(Note: Sorry this piece is so long in coming. Despite the resolution of a major climax, the story is not over. A few more parts should do it. Special thanks to Teri for beta-ing. I got a little out of the groove. For whoever has not read the previous parts, they were posted to the list, and can be found on my site, www.forevernickandnat.com

Comments welcome! Nagging needed!)

Nick tapped quietly on the door to the guest room LaCroix had made his temporary home, knowing it was but a formality. LaCroix could surely sense his approach; perhaps he had even eavesdropped on the conversation he had had with Natalie just moments before. Nick thought wryly that he wouldn't put it past his former master to make everything that transpired in this house his business. But rather than resent the invasion of privacy as he normally would, Nick mused that it would be much easier if LaCroix knew why he had come to him tonight. Despite all they had been through over eight centuries, the topic he planned to broach with him now was unexplored territory. Nick had never feared the elder vampire, but apprehension over how LaCroix might respond to his request made him feel an utter coward for virtually hiding behind the tiny infant he held now in his arms.

“Come in, Nicholas."

LaCroix was packing a small bag with the few personal items he’d acquired in the past two weeks, leaving ample space, Nick knew, for the supply of blood he would need for his journey. He’d stayed in this place far longer than he’d planned, and Nick had sensed that he and Janette would be departing shortly. Though Janette took pleasure in spending time with Natalie and the kids, especially Niki, a phone call from her restaurant in Los Angeles had reminded her that she had business to attend to. And LaCroix had stayed on with the pretext of enjoying the local nightlife in the vampire community, but Nick knew that he had lingered just long enough to make sure that the danger was truly over.

“You’re leaving,” Nick observed, a statement that held the hint of a question.

LaCroix looked from Nick to the infant in his arms, his eyes finally settling on Nick. “My work here is done,” he said, then added with the barest hint of admiration, “although it seems my presence was probably unnecessary.”

Nick shook his head. “Natalie and I are grateful that both you and Janette were here. Your…acceptance of our life together,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “and your protection of our family…is more than we could have hoped for.” More than he would have ever imagined possible of LaCroix even ten years ago.

LaCroix nodded. “I have to admit, Nicholas, that you handled yourself quite impressively. Perhaps…even as a mortal…you…” He hesitated, the admission difficult for him. The silent acknowledgement that Nick didn’t need the vampire; that his happiness and his ability to protect his family as a man were truly possible. That this was the right choice.

“Thank you, LaCroix,” Nick said, heartfelt, sparing his former master the awkwardness.

LaCroix’s gaze fell on the baby, as he simply said, “I suppose you have found your own kind of immortality.” He reached out tentatively to touch the child’s cheek. “She is…exquisite,” he said softly, almost entranced. “And worthy of her name.”

Nick glanced up into LaCroix’s eyes, knowing that behind the fascination lay the deep pain of his loss. The memory of Nick’s sister Fleur would always be with him. He’d hated Nick for centuries for preventing him from bringing her across, for condemning her to old age and death. But LaCroix seemed to envision Fleur’s immortality in this child who bore her name. The anguish of many lifetimes almost found a sense of peace in this tiny new life.

“Would you like to hold her?” Nick suggested gently.

LaCroix looked up at him as if in amazement. Both of them knew this was a bold show of trust between them. Nick knew that if Natalie were here she would protest, no matter what had been agreed between them. But Nick trusted his oldest friend at this moment more than he had in eight centuries. Not with his soul, or his life, but with the child who meant more to him than both.

LaCroix nodded wordlessly, gingerly reaching out as Nick placed the infant in his arms. Nick watched as LaCroix’s face softened as he’d never imagined it possibly could. The dark evil, the venom, the contempt that had been his visage for as long as Nick could remember was gone as if it had never existed. “You are…a lucky man, Nicholas,” LaCroix admitted softly. “A child…is a sacred thing…”

The sadness that momentarily crossed the vampire’s countenance was barely perceptible. But Nick knew that LaCroix could only be thinking of Divia, the daughter he had held in his own arms when he’d been human. That same daughter had made him a vampire as Pompeii had been destroyed around them. But the pure evil that she had become had forced LaCroix to destroy her nearly two thousand years later. Another loss. Another reason to close his cold, dead heart.

“Oh, Nicholas,” he sighed, his eyes still fixed on the tiny baby girl. “You’ve gotten all you wished for, and yet…how short a single lifetime is. Perhaps now that you and Natalie have had your children, the two of you could—“ He cut himself off, knowing it was no use.

“We can grow old together,” Nick told him resolutely. “And that will be a perfect ending to a life that has lasted much longer than God intended.”

“And what of your children? Nicolette is still a dhampir, and as such will always live in danger. The other two are fragile and mortal…” The proof of just how fragile they were was in his arms. LaCroix seemed almost hesitant to move his hands, lest he hold her too tightly.

“You’re right, LaCroix,” Nick told him, a phrase he had rarely said in all their association. “I won’t be around to protect them. Another thirty years if I’m lucky…but after that…” His voice drifted off, as if giving the vampire an opening.

He didn’t have to finish. LaCroix had caught his meaning, and nodded. “Yes, Nicholas. You know I will always watch over them. As will Janette.” He looked into his eyes. “You have my word on that, as I’m sure you already knew.”

Nick smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because Natalie and I have spoken about this, and we’ve decided we would like to make that official.”

LaCroix looked at him dubiously. “What, were you thinking of naming me in your Last Will and Testament?” he asked, almost as a joke.

“No.” He took a deep breath. “LaCroix, Natalie and I would very much like you and Janette to be Fleur’s godparents.”

LaCroix laughed, though out of awkwardness and not amusement. “Surely you can’t be serious. What would you have us do, go into a Church and splash her with Holy Water? I might be able to resist the burn, but Janette would probably—“

“No, not in a Church,” Nick said quickly. “There is a priest here in town, Father Michael. I’ve been to him—“

“For confession?” LaCroix asked mockingly, but his smile faded at Nick’s response.

“Actually, yes,” he replied. “He knows what I am. He is sworn by his vows to secrecy. I’ve already asked him if it would be possible to perform a baptism here, in the house, at night.”

LaCroix shook his head in disbelief. “You’ve truly worked this all out, haven’t you?” he asked.

“LaCroix, please,” Nick said, “it would mean a great deal to me…and to Natalie…to know that our children will be protected when we’re gone.”

LaCroix looked at him uncomfortably. It was clear that Nick’s mortality was not something he wanted to seriously contemplate. “Is my vow to protect them not enough?” he asked in frustration. “Must we really go through with this human formality? It’s nothing more than a meaningless ritual…”

“Not to me,” Nick told him with resolve. “This child will be baptized in the church, just as my sister and I were, and our parents and grandparents before us.” It was something he owed God, for all that He had given him. “I’ve chosen my path, LaCroix. And I’m going to do it the right way, all the way. I’m asking you as my closest friend to please indulge me in this. There is no one else on this Earth to whom I would entrust the protection of my child. Of all my children.”

LaCroix sighed deeply, looking from Nicholas’ determined eyes to the face of the innocent creature who had snuggled against him to fall asleep. “All right, Nicholas. I’ll do it. But if you ask me to take communion, I will draw the line.”