SECRETS - Parts 7-12 - Jarvinia Please send all comments, questions, and suggestions to: This story is a Forever Knight / Highlander crossover, which takes place after the previous section, Secrets - Parts 1-6. The Highlander characters are introduced in this section. DISCLAIMER: The concepts of vampires as used in this story and the characters of Forever Knight are the property of James D. Parriott, Sony Pictures Entertainment, Columbia TriStar Television, and the Sci-Fi Channel, and are used without permission. The concepts of Immortality as used in this story and the characters of Highlander are property of Davis/Panzer Productions, Inc., Rysher Entertainment, and Gaumont Television, and are used without permission. Other characters not part of either series are mine. This is an amateur publication intended solely for the entertainment of its readers. No infringements intended on copyrights, etc. ~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~ Secrets - Part 7/12 Eight months later: Duncan Macleod was getting ready to leave his houseboat to do an errand when a familiar voice, one filled with insistency, called to him from his car, "Macleod!" He turned to face the Watcher, one he now considered a friend, and wondered what he needed, already having a suspicion it was him. "Dawson, what brings you here?" "Something that needs to be discussed, inside." He gestured toward the boat, and walked toward the entrance, the tone of his voice not giving a choice in the matter. Something was definitely going on, something important, and that something included himself in some way. Otherwise Dawson wouldn't have come to him. They entered, and sat across from each other, Macleod offering Dawson a drink, which was quickly declined. He then asked, "What's so important?" Dawson looked at Macleod, and once again his mind doubted his decision to so what he was going to do, but knew that it was better now, before anything were to happen, than to try and stop an escalating problem. He had already waited the majority of a year, and could wait no longer. "About eight months ago, there was a group of renegade Watchers in Canada that were completely wiped out by a couple of Immortals." Dawson paused, and waited for his friend's response. "So. What does that mean?" He asked, curious as to why he wasn't told sooner if it was so important, and slightly angry because of what happened, and that he just now heard of it. There was more than one group hunting, or at the least Horton's group organized without him. "There were over a dozen people killed. Most had their necks broken and/or cut. We believe we know who did it, but we don't know much about them. According to records they aren't even official Immortals, there has never been enough evidence to prove that they are. Never even seen either of them fight." "How do you know they were the ones that killed them?" he said, knowing that it was improbable that they would leave clues as to their identity behind. "We found out about their operations, and sent in people to deal with the renegades. When they got to the house, everyone was already dead, some barely a minute, but one of our people saw a group of people, a man and three women on the grounds. While he reached for his camera they disappeared, but he did get a good look at three of them first. When they entered the mansion, files on two of the people seen on the grounds were found on a table. Later, the one that saw them, a researcher, was found dead on the grounds. His throat was slit. He was killed the same way as several of the people that were in the house. Here." He reached into his jacket and handed two files to Macleod. "These are the files we found." Macleod opened the top file, that of a young woman. He had never seen her before, if he had he would have remembered. She had long, wavy, golden blonde hair and remarkable blue eyes that shone with her presence even in the picture. They spoke of age and wisdom, yet at the most she looked to be in her early twenties. She was probably only seventeen or eighteen when she died her first death. He noted that her name, or at least the one she used the most, was Fleur de Brabant, which was also her present persona. Behind the first picture, a recent one taken only a couple of years before, were several older pictures from various times in this century, all of the same woman. They had no idea how old she was, only that she was at least two hundred going by pictures and sketches, and that before that they were unable to confirm her existence with visual evidence. He closed it, then opened the second file. It was a little thicker, and revealed a face he had seen once before, during the American Civil War. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Men were rushing about, almost all were bleeding or injured in some way, being helped by the doctors and some of the surviving Union soldiers. Macleod entered the tent carrying a badly injured soldier, he was shot in the chest, but was still conscious and very much alive. He would live if he got medical attention quickly, but that was his only chance, otherwise he would die. Immediately a blonde haired doctor came up to him and helped him put the man down, and started accessing the man's condition. This doctor seemed to be younger than other doctors he had met, and he also seemed paler than many of his patients, which wasn't too surprising given the stream of injured that he knew would have been coming in the past several days, that night being especially bad. The doctor's would have had little time to rest. Throughout the night he helped this man, who he discovered was actually the night surgeon, and also the night commanding officer. Macleod observed the doctor was one who seemed to actually care about his patients, even though there was not much time for him to do so, and even when there was very little that could be done for them. He had never met someone so dedicated to there work in such times, and held a lot of respect for him from the start. When he had a patient that was going to die, he tried to be cheerful, and honor any last requests, many of which were letters to family which he happily wrote down for them. He even promised to deliver a letter and a necklace to one man's wife personally. He learned the man's name was Nicholas Parker, but that he preferred to be called Nick. Many of his patients even called him 'Doc Nick' and each time it was said, he would smile, no matter what he was doing, happy that they could be the same in such a dreary situation. It always amazed him when someone could be happy in the middle of a war, especially one as gruesome as this one. When weapon's technology advanced faster than tactics, more lost their lives. For over a month he helped Nick, and found he had made a very good friend. Suddenly the man disappeared from the camp. When he asked the other doctors, they looked at him as if he were crazy, telling him there was no Nicholas Parker here, neither then or in the past, when only days before they had worked and talked together. However, some of his patients still talked about Nick, how nice he was, wondering what happened to him, and wishing the other doctors were like him. ~~~~~~~~~~ When he came back to the present, he again looked at the picture in front of him. It was of a man appearing to be in his early thirties, with the same wavy golden blonde hair and blue eyes as the woman. There were two names on the file, Nicholas Knight and Nicholas de Brabant. He looked through the other pictures, and saw him as a security guard, a teacher, a red cross doctor, and finally as a police detective. The first picture was probably as he was now, a detective, since the clothing in both pictures was the same style, even looked like he was wearing the same jacket. He then finally commented, recognition clearly visible on his face, "I've seen this man before, during the Civil War," and raised his head. Dawson shook his head in confirmation, and handed him another picture. It was an old photograph taken during the Civil War. In the foreground was Nicholas Parker and himself helping a patient. He remembered that the soldier had been injured severely, his wounds should have been fatal. But he remembered how Nicholas had brought the man back to health. His wounds had healed well, and he didn't suffer as much pain as many of the other soldiers treated by the other doctors. The picture was taken as Nicholas removed the shards from the soldier's chest, himself making sure his patient didn't try to move. Macleod's mouth opened in shock, not believing the man he knew as Nicholas Parker could do what Dawson said he did, and the proof was in his hands. "You're saying that this man killed those renegade Watchers?" "From what we can tell, yes. But that isn't all of it. Here." He handed him another file, this one with more pictures of the same man, not as helping, but as killing, many times brutally. "Are you sure these are of the same person?" he asked, even though there was no doubt who it was in the pictures. "Yes, it is certain," Dawson replied. "A couple of the photographers were reported to be found dead soon after the pictures were taken, and most of the photos were destroyed. Usually they died when their neck was broken or their throat was slit." 'The same as those found in the house, and the photographer.' "Why are you showing me these?" he said looking up, wanting to know what the point was. "Fleur de Brabant is already in Europe, and Nicholas de Brabant and two of his friends, the other two seen in Vancouver, are arriving here, in Paris, tomorrow night. If they discover us, we may need your help." "So, what, you want me to kill him if he's what you think he is?" Macleod asked, a look of disbelief, and distaste on his features. "Hopefully not. If possible, I would like you to get to know him. After all, you did once know him, and considered him a friend. I'm sure he considered you one as well." He thought about that for a moment, but the pictures proved he wasn't all good, and said, "Perhaps, but first have your people find out all they can about them. I don't want to die unnecessarily." He again looked at the file then realized it had records on him for the last two hundred years, yet he had met him only once, about one hundred and thirty years ago. "Wait, this file says he's more than 200 years old, right?" "Yeah, he's probably a lot older," Dawson said in confirmation, not seeing what he was getting at. Confusion crossed his face, and he said aloud, "When I met him during the Civil War, he was mortal, perhaps a pre-Immortal, but definitely not Immortal yet." Dawson recognized the problem, and knew he couldn't explain it. He didn't know exactly how immortals sensed each other. He didn't know if anyone really did. He then told Macleod, "Well, hopefully we'll get this straitened out. But you're positive that this is the same man you met during the Civil War?" "Yes," Macleod said, not even a touch of uncertainty in his tone. "Could you describe him to me, his personality?" He was surprised at the question, and had to think a little to remember everything. "Um . . . Well, he was always happy when around his patients, although I think that was more for their benefit than his. When we spoke alone, he always seemed very depressed, never smiled unless you got lucky. He took his job seriously, and I believe he enjoyed his work. Even though he had a slight disability, being allergic to sunlight, he still worked in the day sometimes, and many times suffered burns that healed almost as quickly as an Immortals'. Nick was dedicated to life, he read, was well educated, and spoke several languages, something that was very rare for both the time and the place. I think once he had said he was born in France. He gave me a book just before he left. Let me see if I can find it." Macleod went over to his book shelf and scanned for the book. He stopped at an old brown leather bound book that had to be at least two, if not three hundred years old, and removed it from the shelf. He opened it and after confirming it was the book, handed it to Dawson. Joe opened the book carefully to the first page, to something that was obviously a poem, although in a language he didn't recognize at first. He turned the pages and found several others, some merely a sentence, a thought, others several pages long, all were handwritten, but not all in the same language. Only a few were in English, and they were all very good. They were about life, nature, death, and everything in between. "Are these his? I can tell they were all written by the same person." "Yes, they were. He told me they were his poems, and that he wanted me to have them." "Are you completely sure they were his?" he asked, amazed at the writing in front of him. "Well, as you can see all the writing in the book is the same. He wrote the last several pages while I was there." Dawson turned to the last bunch of pages. He scanned through them. Almost all were in what he now recognized as an old French dialect. "Do you understand these?" "Yes, although not perfectly. It is the French he preferred, although he could speak the modern French of the time perfectly. In the last poem he talks about the end of a life, the end of a monster's life. The first time I read it was right after his disappearance. I believe he meant for him to be the monster, but I cannot believe that from what I knew of him. However, I do know that he was what would now probably be described as suicidal, and I think I had decided from the poems and his depression, that he most likely killed himself after leaving. He seemed to be very cautious, whenever something came for him, he would get really nervous. It seemed as though he might have been running from something, or someone. A couple of days before he left he received a letter that appeared to disturb him greatly. Perhaps that is why he left." Dawson returned his attention to the book, looking at several more pages. "These are amazing. I mean he was a great writer, better than most. Good enough to be published." He shook head, then asked something about the book, "How old is the book, when did he start writing?" "The poems start a little more than 250 years ago. Which would, just like the pictures, suggest he would be at least almost three hundred years old today." He paused and sat down again. "How far back does any information on them go?" "About 800 years, on both of them. I did a search on his name, and found out it was originally a crusader's name, belonging to a Nicolas de Brabant born in 1193. We did further research on the crusader and discovered he had a younger sister, Fleur." He stopped and handed another picture to Macleod. "This is of a painting of Fleur and her brother. The Fleur in the file is a different one, but the man looks the same as the present Nicholas de Brabant, except his hair is longer." Dawson handed one more picture to Macleod. "That is a picture of a family portrait completed in 1207. It is of Nicholas and Fleur as children, their parents, and a couple of their servants. The young woman that is dressed well off to the right, but clearly not a member of the family, is most likely the present Fleur de Brabant, then Muriel de Troyes, a servant to their family. The real Fleur is the little girl standing next to Nicholas." "Brabant is a noble family right?" Macleod asked. After receiving a nod, he said, "They still own a lot of land somewhere toward Belgium, correct?" "Actually, they own lands both in Belgium and France, most of it in Belgium. Much of it is now owned by the state. Both Fleur and Nicholas have to attend several meetings dealing with their land, possessions and other stuff." "I wonder how I missed him being Immortal, at least I don't remember him as one." Macleod again picked up the file on the man and read more about Nicholas Knight. "Right now he is living in Toronto, working for the Metro Police. It says here he is a Homicide Detective with a severe allergy to sunlight. It must be the same man," he said spacing out slightly, remembering Nick Parker's allergy, what he had said about it, and what he saw in his actions. "In your files, has there been any Immortals that were allergic to sunlight?" "No, and that puzzles me. If he were Immortal, wouldn't that cancel out his allergy, I mean it would heal it, wouldn't it?" Dawson asked. "I really don't know." He paused and thought about it. He then asked, "How is he going to go to these meetings and keep his life in Toronto?" "It's really pretty amazingly organized. He's participating in an officer exchange with Paris. This way he can be away for several months without suspicion, although I believe his police captain knows he's de Brabant, just not what he is. So, what do you say? You going to help me?" "Yeah, I'll help. This way I might be able to gain a friend I lost." "Thanks Macleod. They will be arriving tomorrow night." He stood up and walked toward the entrance to the boat. "See you later. I'll call you after they arrive with what we find out." "See you later," Macleod answered, nodding, then went back inside, picked up the leather bond book, and began to read. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Toronto "Nick, tell me again who's coming?" Tracy asked, a slight nervous tremor in her speech as they walked through the airport. He sighed, "Two French detectives that specialize in homicide, and the top coroner from Paris." This was now the tenth time he had answered that question in the past hour, and his patience was slipping, slipping fast. "I know, but who are they?" "Tracy, I've told you their names, even broke into their files in France to satisfy your curiosity. They are good people, speak excellent English, and one has even served in Canada before. They aren't going to destroy the precinct, our desks, or anything else." She was now a little embarrassed at her continued questioning, but she just had a feeling that something wasn't right. Something is gone to happen. But what, and when? "I know. It's just that I've never been out of the country this long. I mean, once I went to the U.S. for a school trip, but traveling overseas and actually working and living? This is going to be awkward at first. You better not mind, after all, it's because of you that we are going." Nick merely glanced at her slightly, knowing she was right and didn't comment. He felt guilty for dragging her with him, after all, she didn't have to go with him. But she had agreed. Agreed before the arrangements were originally made, and she could have decided not to go. The three approached the gate, and Nick went up and asked if the flight was on time. He walked back and announced, "Their flight is actually five minutes early, believe it or not." He got all the way to them then said, "Their plane will arrive in fifteen minutes." "Amazing. I've never been on a flight, or waited for someone on a flight that hasn't been at least twenty minutes late, let alone five minutes early." Natalie then walked toward the chairs followed by Nick and Tracy and sat down until the plane arrived. Nick remembered something several minutes later, and told Tracy and Natalie just as the plane was docking at the gate, "Oh, their apartments will not be ready for another three days, so they will need to stay at our places, or at a hotel." He had already told Natalie, but hadn't yet said anything to Tracy. "What! Oh, I'm going to get you for that one!" Tracy said in a fairly loud voice, and whacked him on the arm playfully, but still fairly hard. He winced then smiled. "Don't worry, you won't need to put up with them. The two detectives will be staying at my place, and the coroner at Nat's, that is, if they don't want the hotel." Passengers from the plane started to get off, and they stood near the gate waiting for the three from France. Two men, each with dark hair got off the plane followed by a woman with light brown hair. They looked down at a picture in the older man's hand. The other man was about Tracy's age. He searched the area, and after spotting Nick, waved and walked toward them. "You are Nicholas Knight?" the older of the two men asked. "Yes I am. This is my partner Tracy Vetter, and Doctor Natalie Lambert, the county coroner." The taller of the two men was the one that spoke once again, in softly accented words, "Pleased to meet you. I am Philippe Martel, this is Miquel Dupray, my partner, and Annabelle Caron." After everyone had been introduced, and everyone shook hands, Nick led everyone down to baggage reclaim after going through customs. "Would you like to go to the precinct first, or get rid of your baggage?" Nick asked as they approached where both Nick and Natalie's vehicles were parked. "First get rid of our baggage," Philippe, the more assertive of the two answered. "Your apartments will not be available for a couple days after we leave. You may either stay at my place and Natalie's, or we can make hotel arrangements for you. What would you prefer?" "If you wouldn't mind, we would like to avoid the hotels," Philippe again spoke for the group, the others nodding in agreement. Nick smiled slightly, and said, "Of course. Ms. Caron, if you would go with Natalie and Tracy they will take you to where you will be staying. Detectives, please follow me." When they got to Nick's 62' Cadillac, the younger of the two, Miquel, finally spoke out, "Cool car. It is yours, correct?" "Yes, it is, although some do not share our opinion." Nick patted his car on the trunk, then opened it so they could put their stuff in it. They did so, then got into the sea green Caddy, proceeding to pull out of the airport parking lot. "Detective Knight, where do you live?" the older one asked. "I live in the warehouse district. And please call me Nick, or just Knight." "Do they let you drive this on the job?" Miquel asked curiously. "Well, yes and no. I don't think I'm officially supposed to, but I do anyway, and no one stops me." Nick answered with a smile. He then asked, "Where do you live Detective Martel?" "Please call me Martel. I live in a small apartment on the outskirts of Paris," he responded. "What about you?" Nick asked, nodding to the other man. He blushed slightly and softly answered, "I live in a large house with my parents." He hesitated for a second, then added, "I go by Miquel usually." "Since we're on the subject of names, you can call my partner Tracy, or Trace and she won't mind. Dr. Lambert can be called Natalie or just Nat. We're almost there." Seconds later, Nick pulled into his driveway and opened the garage door. He went and opened the trunk, then entered the security code and waited for Martel and Miquel to get to the door. They rode up in silence to the loft. When Nick pulled the door open, Martel entered and looked around in surprise. He had expected something much different, not only for a detective, but for the area in which he lived. Miquel did the same, first putting his bags down in the middle of the floor, then wondering around the room, looking at all of the things, the piano, the fireplace, the skylight. He commented, "This is cool! Where did you get the fireplace mantel?" "Miquel. Who did you learn most of your English from?" Nick asked with a grin beginning to cover his features. "While I was at the University. There was an American exchange student there, and we helped each other with our languages. I guess I picked up on the things people his age say. Besides, I like the sound of the word." He again blushed, and looked down. "I would suggest not to overuse the word, and you are going to be liked by everyone at the precinct, that I can already tell. You too, Martel. Put your stuff over by the stairs, and then we can go to the precinct. I'll show you around some more later." They did so, then went to exit the loft and rode to the precinct in Nick's car. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Annabelle Caron, sat in the front seat of Natalie's car as they pulled into her apartment building's parking lot. They all got out, and Natalie led the way to her apartment, opening it, and allowing Ms. Caron to enter first, Tracy closing the door. "Ms. Caron, how do you like it?" Natalie asked her guest, wondering what the young woman before her would think. She was just a little older than Natalie. "It is nice. Very different from where I live, but very nice as well. I like it a lot. Oh, please call me Annabelle, or Anna." "Or course, Anna, and please call me Natalie." She looked down at her watch, and saw that already 45 minutes had passed since they left the airport. "Just set your bags anywhere for now, and I'll take you to the precinct." Tracy also looked at her watch, and commented, "The others are probably waiting for us." They left her apartment, and rode to the precinct in a comfortable silence. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. They both arrived at the precinct at the same time, and proceeded inside as a group. First Nick, Tracy, and Natalie each took someone around the precinct for a tour, showing where everything was. Once they were done, they entered the Captain's office together. Reese told his two Detectives to take anything out of their desks that they either want to take with them, or take home. They did so while the new detectives were introduced to the Captain. Natalie watched as Nick was carefully controlling his emotions, this night was going to be busier than most nights. Since he had been cured of the virus, he had been unusually violent and easily agitated. She believed that he was stronger and with that strength, came the beast. She quietly reminded him that he needed to remain in control, and then the two detectives and coroner exited the Captain's office, Nick nodding in response. Once that was over, they each got a tour of Toronto from one of the three residents. As Miquel got into the Caddy, the glove box accidentally opened, causing an object to fall out. He picked it up and discovered it was an old New York driver's license, expired in 1963, and registered to a Nicholas Forrester. He looked at it in amazement, the picture matched the detective who would momentarily be sitting next to him. This guy really is an Immortal. Dawson was right. He was going to put it back where he found it, when a powerful hand stopped him. He looked up to see icy blue eyes starring down at him. They way his arm was grabbed, the Watcher tattoo was in plain sight, and he knew Nick saw it. At the moment he was starring strait at it, recognition making his features even colder. He knew what he was, and prayed he would live. Miquel swallowed, and that again caught Nick's attention. They looked at each other, each afraid of the other because of what they believed the other to be. Nick's eyes got slightly lighter and a gold hint of madness, actually the vampire, entered them. "If you do anything other than watch, either while I'm here or while I'm gone, you will die. Do you understand?" At first he just starred into the compelling eyes before him, but then after the grip on his arm tightened, he answered, "Yes, I'll just watch." Nick let go of his arm, and started the car. They drove in silence, until Miquel finally said, "I'm a cop first, then a Watcher. I'm more of a researcher than anything. Don't put that against me." "I'm not. I've just had bad experiences with your people in the past." Nick continued to drive, and quickly changed to a neutral subject, "First I'm taking you to the coroner's office, where Natalie works, and you will be stopping by there often to pick up the coroner's report." Nick gave Miquel a tour of the city, and even let him drive after a while. By the end of the night they had become pretty good friends. When Miquel pulled up to Nick's loft, Tracy's car was already there, and the sun was beginning to show itself over the horizon. The two stepped into the loft to see Tracy and Martel putting stuff into the refrigerator. "I figured you wouldn't have any food, so we went and got some." Nick nodded, silently grateful that they had thought about that, and said, "There are two rooms upstairs, you can decide who gets what." After the refrigerator was filled, they went up the stairs carrying their things. Miquel ended up with Nick's room, and Martel, the spare room. Miquel came back down to see Nick standing in front of one of the large windows, in the first rays of daylight. As he watched, Nick turned away slightly, and Tracy picked up a remote and closed the blinds silently glaring at him. 'He really is allergic to the sunlight. Amazing. An Immortal with an allergy. An eternity of darkness.' Then he thought some more, and remembered, that there was an Immortal that sneezed whenever he got near another Immortal, maybe it wasn't so impossible after all. He was spotted and continued his trip down the stairs, and he then opened the refrigerator to get a can of pop, and sat down on the leather couch. Nick then said, "Tomorrow night we will need a ride to the airport, then you will go to the precinct. You can use our vehicles until yours are available. Then give the keys to Captain Reese. Also when you leave here, please use the remote to close the shutters. When you have everything in the apartment, tell the Captain so the security code can be changed. Okay?" "Yeah. I'll tell Martel when he gets up, he's probably already asleep," he said gesturing to the room above. "What about you?" Nick asked. "No, I'm not tired yet, I never seem to need much sleep. Anyway, you might want access to your stuff so you can pack." "Yeah, thanks." Nick started up the stairs, then told Tracy, "You should go home pack and get some sleep. Be here when the sun sets." "Sure, Nick. See you later, Miquel." She then left the loft for her own apartment, wondering how Nick felt having them stay at his place while they were gone. After all, some of the stuff at Nick's place was extremely valuable and/or fragile. An hour later, when Nick came down with a packed bag, a change of clothes for tomorrow and his black satin pajamas, Miquel was sitting in front of the TV, watching the morning news. "Miquel, you might want to get some sleep, I know I want to. If you want, you can get up real early. Oh, if I'm not up by 5:00, wake me up." Miquel nodded, and went upstairs, after which Nick fell asleep on the couch quickly. From then on the loft was completely silent, except for the two French detectives' heartbeats. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. At four thirty that night, the lift started up, and Miquel waved from the top of the stairs at Tracy, Nick's partner as she entered the room. She went over to Nick who definitely looked like one of the undead, and shook him slightly, causing him to bolt upright, startling Tracy slightly, but she quickly recovered. After realizing there was nothing to be alarmed at, he asked, "What time is it?" "It's 4:30. I wanted to make sure you would get up." She smiled and then sat in the leather recliner. "So, Miquel, how was your night, or should I say day?" "Very quiet compared to where I live in Paris." She went to the fridge and retrieved a glass of orange juice for herself, and a mug of blood for her partner. Over the previous eight months she had gotten used to Nick's 'condition,' and now had no trouble with the blood. After handing the mug to Nick, who took it still partially asleep, and setting her juice down, she asked, "Would you like something?" "Just what you're having." He looked into the cup she got for Nick, and asked, "What's that?" pointing to the mug. "Something Natalie thinks may help my sun allergy," he said lying, aware he couldn't very well tell him what was really in the cup. He downed the entire mug, then grabbed his clothes, and said, "I'm going to take a shower. If you need anything, just ask Tracy." As everyone got ready for the night, it was very silent. When it got close to sunset, everyone got ready to go down in the elevator. They took Nick's car and when they reached the airport, they waited for Natalie and Anna. Once they arrived, Nick, Natalie and Tracy went to the gate their plane was leaving from. They got on and the plane took off almost immediately as they were the only passengers on the flight, a precaution Nick had arranged. Secrets - Part 8/12 Only a few minutes after they had arrived at the precinct for the night, Miquel told his partner, "Martel, I'm going to use the phone. If we get anything, tell me, okay?" "Yeah." Martel shook his head, assuming his partner was calling his parents, telling them he was fine. They seemed to be a little over protective, he noted in the past year and a half Miquel had been his partner. He had to make a lot of phone calls. Miquel dialed the long distance number, and it was picked up after the second ring. "Dawson." "Joe, it's me Miquel." "How did it go?" he asked, really wanting to know what happened, after all, he was taking Brabant's job while he was in Toronto. "Good and bad. He found out what I am when I saw an old driver's license of his, and he saw the tattoo. He told me that if I did anything other than watch, I'd be dead, and I believe him. After that it went fine. He was a little nervous around me, but he seemed to like me. And his sun allergy is real." Even over the phone his excitement and slight nervousness could be heard. "Miquel, what's your number?" "Right now I don't have one. Our apartments weren't ready. At the moment, I and my partner are staying at Knight's. His place is amazing. Lots of antiques and it seems as though he paints and probably plays the piano. He has a really old Steinway." Dawson nodded to himself, he seemed a lot like Macleod in many ways, although he knew they were also a lot different. "As soon as you get it, call me okay?" "Yeah, I will." "By the way, what did you think of him?" Joe asked, curious if he had the same impression Macleod did. "He's strange. When I first saw him, his eyes struck me as clear and made him look even innocent, made him look a lot younger than he's supposed to be. When I found the license, I discovered he had amazing strength, and his eyes took on a hint of madness. They looked like a killer's eyes, and that scarred me to death. I think he misses being able to be in the sun, and he seemed depressed about it, my guess is, at one time he was able to tolerate it, possibly before he became what he is. His friend, the county coroner Natalie Lambert, is, at least I think she is, working on a cure to his sun allergy, and I believe both her, and his partner know what Nick is." 'The same observances that his file indicates. Capable of both great good, and great evil. But which side is he on?' "Well, call me if you get any more information. Good Bye Miquel." "Bye," Miquel said as he hung up and his partner came toward him, a piece of paper in his hand. "We get to have our first taste of Toronto's night life, come on." They walked out of the precinct to Knight's car, hoping they wouldn't get lost on the way. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick, Natalie and Tracy stepped off the plane about forty-five minutes before sunrise. "Come on let's get going," Nick said as he walked toward customs. When he left Canada, he used the excuse of being an antique dealer to get the two almost identical swords on the plane. The only difference was one was about 800 years older than the other and not made of the same materials as the newer one. Now he used his persona, that of the Brabant heir, to get through customs. He had to bring one because of the meetings, and the other in case he met an Immortal. He couldn't not have one, with people watching it would mean certain death as he could not use his vampiric powers. They got in the car Nick had waiting for them, and he drove them to his and Natalie's large apartment, which was a lot like the loft, but slightly smaller, yet on two completely separate levels. He insisted that Tracy stay the day and he show her how to get to her apartment that night. That night they checked into the station after Tracy was taken to her apartment, and Nick showed Tracy and Natalie a little bit of Paris. Once back to the apartment, he allowed Tracy to take the car for the day so she could get food and other supplies. Over the last several months he had been teaching both Natalie and Tracy French. Natalie could speak very well, from a combination of learning it well when she was younger, and now having the photographic memory of a vampire. Tracy did not learn as fast, and still had some trouble writing things down correctly, but was other wise doing very well. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Joe Dawson entered Macleod's boat to find him waiting for him, still reading the book. "Mac, how are you doing?" He looked up and answered quickly, "Fine. I discovered something I never noticed before. At the very end of the book in the cover, he signed it, and wrote a note to me. He signed it using Nicholas de Brabant, not the name he told me. He asked me to keep it forever, and to never forget. I think he really did plan on committing suicide." "Well, he didn't, or at least he didn't succeed. They're here in Paris now and I want to find out more about him, but am afraid of his reaction to another Watcher." "What do you mean, another Watcher?" Macleod asked, not aware of what happened in Toronto. "One of the two detectives taking Brabant and his partner's places, was a researcher and he called last night to tell me about what happened. He was discovered by the tattoo, threatened, then strangely enough they became friends. Miquel is fairly strong but Brabant is much stronger. He also scarred him pretty badly. We don't want to take the chance that he could kill the next Watcher he meets. I don't think he will, but it is better not to test it. At least not before you are able to speak with him, and definitely not at close range." Macleod shook his head in understanding, at least with Dawson's reasons, but he still didn't know how his friend could have done what he'd been told. It just didn't fit with what he knew. "So, you want me to see if I can talk to him so you have a way of getting information?" "If you wouldn't mind." Macleod was slightly annoyed that he had to do another task for Dawson, but really wanted to meet him again, in fact he'd already planned to do so, and he answered, "Sure. I can pay that parking ticket tonight, that way he can see me, and recognize me. Then he'll probably want to find out who I am, and talk to me." "Yeah, tell me how it goes." He nodded, then after Dawson left, started to look for the parking ticket. By the time he found it, it was almost dark, and he tried to figure out why he hadn't paid it yet. He decided to leave about an hour after dark, that way Brabant would probably be on duty, and would be able to spot him. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Nick, what are we going to do tonight?" Tracy asked as they entered the building. "Probably desk work, and we need to speak French from now on." "But Nick, I'm not very good at it!" she protested, still in English. "If you speak it more, you will get better at it," Nick told her in his perfect French, unconsciously making her feel bad. He sounded like a native, especially when a little bit of an accent snuck its way in, although she knew he couldn't help it. He had spoken variations of French for the past eight hundred years. On top of that it was his native tongue, and it's hard to break old habits. "And Tracy, remember we need to go by different names now. Remember to respond to Vachon, and to not call me Knight, and that Natalie's last name is Chevalier. Okay?" "Yeah, I just hope there isn't a Vetter at the station." She could just see the result of that, and trying to explain why she answered to that name still seemed unsure of her own. They sat at their new desks and started filing out the paperwork they needed to do. Several times Tracy asked what something meant, and if possible Nick explained it in French, using English only when necessary. Just after Nick finished filling out his paperwork and turning it in, he got dizzy and slightly nauseous, then the feeling died down but stayed present. Nick moved toward his desk and watched as a tall man with long dark hair entered. Their eyes locked and he remembered a time long ago. ~~~~~~~~~~ It was a dark night, one of the darkest for several weeks, and also one of the more brutal. Injured were coming in by the dozens. A continuous flow that climaxed that night. There weren't nearly enough doctors to help everybody, and many of them didn't know how to deal with the injuries, they were merely recruited, and continuously in training. In the next group there was one man carrying another seriously injured man. He was tall and didn't seem to have any injuries, which was very odd. He was glad when the man decided to offer his help, it was badly needed. When the fighting slowed, and fewer injured came in, he introduced himself to the soldier, "I'm Doctor Nicholas Parker, but I prefer to be called Nick. What's your name?" "I'm Duncan Macleod. You seem to be under staffed here. If it would be all right I would like to help for a while, I have had some experience." "Yes, you're welcome to stay and help. We need all we can get." They had become good friends after that, and managed to save many lives that would have been lost without the extra help. However, it still didn't help much with his dilemma; to live or die. He left several weeks later, giving his book of poems to this friend, planning on dying, on killing himself before LaCroix once again caught up to him. But that wasn't to be the case as LaCroix found him as he left the area, the very reason he had left so abruptly. ~~~~~~~~~~ Nick was brought back to the present by Tracy's voice and a tug on his arm. He looked toward her then walked toward Macleod, and asked, "Do I know you?" The man responded, "Perhaps." Then after leading him off to the side and continued in a quiet voice, "If you were once Nicholas Parker." Nick knew that this man was an Immortal, the first one he had met, and stated, "You must be Duncan Macleod." When he received a nod, he told this man, "Call me Nicholas de Brabant, or Nick here." "Well I would like to catch up on the past with you. Honestly, I didn't think I'd ever see you again. Where would you like to meet?" "How about my apartment tomorrow morning?" Nick asked, not wanting to spend the day at what was almost a perfect stranger's place. "That would be fine." "Tomorrow morning I'll come by your place and show you how to get there. Where do you live?" Macleod told him where on the Seine his barge was. "Okay, I'll be by about an hour before sunrise. Unfortunately I am still allergic to sunlight. Since we're here, I would like you to meet my partner." They walked over to his desk and Nick said, "This is my partner, Detective Tracy Vachon. Tracy, this is an old friend of mine, Duncan Macleod." "Pleased to meet you," she said in still her slightly unsteady, and uncertain French as they shook hands, her mind curious as to how old this friend was. Duncan noticed this and switched to English for her convenience, "You don't know that much French do you?" Tracy blushed and she too answered in English, "No, not really. Nick is helping me with it a lot." She nodded her head slightly in the direction of her partner. "Yes, and I can see he's doing a very good job. Well I'll see you Thursday morning," he told Nick, still using English. "See you then." He then turned back to Tracy and sat down. "Who was that?" she asked, curiosity making her voice a little more perky than usual, more like when they first met. Very quietly he told her, "An Immortal. I first met him during the Civil War, but then I didn't know he was an Immortal." "Where is he from?" she asked wanting to know more about this man, more about this friend of Nick's. "From his name and accent, I think he's originally from Scotland." They then heard in French, "Brabant, Vachon, my office." They knew they were either in trouble, or they had a case, more likely the latter. They entered the office and sat down. "Detectives, we have a case, and I want you two on it. It's a homicide that occurred downtown. I want you to take a couple of officers with you, it's not in the best part of town. Remember, it is against my judgement to let you work here, Brabant. So you better not get yourself killed." "Yes, sir." They stood up, and after getting the location and being signaled to leave they left for the crime scene, taking two officers with them. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. That morning Tracy again took the car to her apartment after dropping Nick and Natalie off. When Nick entered their large apartment, he found some things set up, some paintings that were in his loft and a couple of other important objects. He also noticed Sydney sitting on the couch and smiled, knowing Natalie must be happy to have been able to bring him with them. He knew she was there, just not where, so he called out, "Nat!" "I'm in the kitchen," she told him. He entered to see her standing over a blender, now pouring its contents into a glass. He stared at the glass with a suspicious look, and asked, "Natalie, now what are you making?" She put the blender into the sink, and after picking the glass up and looking at it, answered, "Actually, I'm not sure." She took a sip of the slightly cloudy green liquid, and grimaced as it wasn't the best taste in the world. "Try it," she said, wishing she had not done so first. "Why? Is it really bad or something?" he said a grin beginning to appear, not really sure he wanted to try it. "No, it's actually better than most of the stuff I've made, but I still want your reaction." She handed the cup to Nick and he slowly took it. First he just looked at it, then he drank a little and commented, "Yeah, it is better than the protein shakes, but not by much. What did you put in it?" "I'm not going to tell you just yet." "Come on, we need to get some sleep. Tomorrow you might want to go to Tracy's, I met a friend I haven't seen for a long time, and he's coming by tomorrow morning. It's all right if you stay though, but we just might keep you awake." "It's fine, I'll stay here. And as soon as I clean up my latest experiment I'll be back. Oh, Fleur had some of our stuff delivered as you've probably noticed. She also told me the date of the first meeting, October 29th. She said she'd call us later about it." She turned around and turned the water on, cleaning up the mess both in the sink, and on the counter, and Nick went and got ready for bed. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The next night was just as uneventful as the first. They followed up on leads and got the coroner's report on the victim's death. Both Tracy and Nick saw it as a routine case, nothing all that unusual about it, and therefore their progress was going very fast, they already had a suspect, and they were bringing him in for questioning that night. At the end of their shift, Nick told Tracy to take the car home after picking up Natalie and to tell Natalie he and Macleod will be there before dawn. He then found a deserted area, and after making sure no one was around took off toward Macleod's barge. He landed nearby less than five minutes later, and approached the black barge. Nick felt the presence of another Immortal and knew it was Macleod, he recognized the frequency. It was something he knew most Immortals couldn't do, and suspected it had something to do with being both vampire and Immortal. He knocked on the door and was told to come in, that he was almost ready. A few minutes later Macleod emerged from the bathroom and got his coat, and asked, "You ready?" "Yeah, where's your car?" "It's the black car outside. Here," Macleod threw his keys to Nick, then said, "Go ahead and get in. I'm going to let you drive, since you know where you live, and I don't. I'll be out in a couple of minutes." Nick took the keys and went out to the car. He got in the driver's side and unlocked the doors after starting the car. Macleod came out dressed in his trench coat, and getting into the passenger's side said, "Okay, we can go now." Nick drove them onto the main streets and soon they were traveling down Paris streets. "I like your car. It reminds me of something that I would buy myself." His friend returned a nod, for some reason the style seemed like something his friend would like. He remembered he was always interested in antiques and the past, something he knew from experience. "Nicholas, how long have you been in Paris?" Macleod asked. "Actually, I've only been here for three days, but it hasn't changed much since the last time I was here, so I still know where I'm going. If you want, you can still call me Nick, if not, Nicholas is fine." Macleod watched where they were going, and soon restarted their conversation, "So, Nick, you work for the police now? How long have you done that?" "On and off for the past fifty years, a couple of other times. I'm officially a detective in Toronto, which is also where I have lived for the past six, now almost seven years." Macleod then asked, "What brought you here?" hoping he sounded like he didn't already know the answer, and also hoping his friend wouldn't mind the questions. Nick debated for a few seconds whether he should say the real reason or not, and told him, "I am the present Brabant heir. I set it up so that when something like this happens I still have claim to my families belongings. I have several meetings that I demand my presence. By doing an exchange with some detectives from Paris, I do not have to give up my life in Toronto. It's the first place I've been happy for a long time. Before going there I was about to give up. It's bad enough to be immortal, but it's worse when you can't even watch a sunrise, although I have gotten closer than I ever have in the past. I didn't get to watch a sunrise, but I did get to stand in the sun without being burnt." Nick watched the road and his features became sad, and melancholy. He told the truth, although it could be taken differently depending on the person. A slight smile came across his face, wondering what Macleod thought about an Immortal that was 'allergic' to sunlight. "Nick, how come I didn't feel you when we met during the Civil War? I mean I know you must be more than a hundred and fifty years, the poems in the book you gave me start about 250 years ago, so you must be at least three hundred." Macleod asked, seeing if he would get an answer. Realizing he would have to tell the truth, at least about his age, and that it probably wouldn't hurt, he told Macleod, "Actually, I am a little more than 800 years old. I'm not able to tell you why we weren't able to sense each other, at least not right now. Come on, we're almost there." Macleod did his best to look surprised at the comment, and it wasn't that hard. Most Immortals didn't make it that long. "So, what have you done since we last met?" Macleod asked as they slowed down and parked, knowing he'd have to ask later to get the answer to his previous question, one he was completely confused by. "Well, you know I've been, and are, a police officer. I've also been a security guard, an archeologist, a reporter, a doctor, and even a college professor. Other than being a reporter, I've liked everything else, especially archeology and teaching." "What was the best thing you did in archeology, your most interesting dig?" he asked, wanting to get some references of his past, and also wanting to satisfy some of his curiosity. He knew virtually nothing about the man sitting next to him. Nothing other than one small fraction of a life long ago, and the sparse information he was getting then combined with what Dawson had told him. "Oh, I don't know. Probably Altun Kinal, although it ended rather abruptly." The tone he used expressed that it was something probably left alone, but something that was very interesting at the same time. "You said you taught, where did you teach, and what?" Macleod asked curiously. "I was the night curator and associate professor at the Archeological Museum at the University of Chicago a few decades ago. At the time I had some pretty remarkable students, and I regretted having to leave," Nick paused as they reached the door, then opened it and allowed Macleod to enter first. After they were in the living room, Natalie entered. "Macleod, this is Natalie Chevalier. She knows, so our conversation can continue. Natalie, this is Duncan Macleod." "Pleased to meet you Mr. Macleod," she said as he took her hand and kissed it. "Would you like something to drink?" Nick asked as he hung both his and Macleod's coats up. "Some brandy would be nice." "Natalie, could you get that for my friend and both of us something to drink. Then you can join us." While Natalie was in the kitchen, Nick went over to one of the windows, now showing the beginning of another day, carrying a remote in his hand. As the sun got too bright and his skin began to get red, but not quiet to the burning point, he turned away and hit a button on the remote. The black shutters that were recently installed came down, and he sat on the couch to wait for Natalie's return. Macleod was amazed, his friend was still entranced by the sun, even though it was obviously very painful for him to stand in it even for a short time. When he had know him, sometimes he would stand near an opening to the tent and watch the sunrise as long as possible. Then he would have to look away, never able to watch it the whole way. He noticed he was able to stand more of it now, but that it still couldn't watch it, at least not without being severely burnt. Natalie then returned with the brandy for Macleod and a glass of blood wine for Nick. After going back in the kitchen she returned with a second glass of blood wine, and sat down next to Nick. They both were drinking human blood, Nick to help with control, and herself because of her age. After they were all seated Natalie asked, "How did you two meet?" "We meet during the Civil War. Nick was a doctor and I just happened to bring an injured soldier to his tent. After that, I helped Nick and we became fairly good friends, a few weeks later, he left, and I had thought him dead," Macleod answered. Natalie was slightly confused by the last comment, so she asked, "Why did you think Nick dead?" Nick told her, "Probably from what I wrote to him in the back of a book. It was one of the more down times of my life, like just before I met you. I was planning to let death take me, but each time something stopped me." He then seemed to be trapped in the past, remembering something that had happened long ago, remembering when they first met. Macleod asked, trying to turn the conversation to something different, "How did you two meet?" Nick didn't answer, so Natalie told him, "He woke up on my slab." When she was faced with a confused look from Macleod, she elaborated, smiling that he didn't understand right away, "I'm a coroner. Nick had tried to stop a robbery, and for his trouble got a pipe bomb in return. He sat up just before I was going to do the autopsy. I'm sure he's glad I wasn't closer to starting than I was." "Has he been depressed ever since you met him?" Macleod asked looking toward his friend, wanting to find more about his friend, both for himself and Dawson. "Yes. He seems to think he's evil and keeps trying to walk into the sun." She looked over at Nick who seemed to be too preoccupied to comment on what she said, and continued, a seriousness taking control, "It could kill him, but it might not because of being Immortal. The tests I've done have come out negative. That he would probably not regenerate if exposed to too much sunlight." Nick seemed to snap back to the present, and he stood up and went to the kitchen to get a refill of his drink. For some reason he spaced out, and he couldn't remember anything from the past few minutes. Nothing except past memories. When he returned, he looked toward Natalie and then heard some movement outside. The door opened with a key, and Tracy stepped in. After closing the door she looked at Nick and asked, "What?" "Could you knock, or at the least call before coming in?" he asked, not meaning to put as much force in his words as he did. "Sorry," she said turning her head down, she had gotten used to coming into his loft unannounced, as he had allowed her to over the past several months. At first he didn't like it, but then he'd gotten used to it. "I needed some help with our paperwork. You know the easy stuff that you said I would have no problem doing? Well it isn't that easy." "Okay. Macleod, I'm sorry about the interruption, but perhaps we could get together sometime this weekend or next week." "Sure, could I get your number?" Nick nodded and wrote it down on a piece of paper, which he handed to Macleod. "See you later." "Bye," Macleod said as he slipped his trenchcoat on, and left Nick's apartment. "Trace, what parts are you having trouble with?" he asked and moved in her direction slightly. "I'll tell you, but first, I think I should tell you someone is outside watching your apartment." "What! What does he look like?" Nick asked alarmed, almost going to the door, but instead waited for Tracy's answer. "He is of average height, brown hair, and pretty unremarkable overall. He was reading a paper from about three weeks ago, and he looked closer at it as I walked by, as if he didn't want to be noticed." "Another watcher. I wonder if he is Macleod's or mine." Nick starred at the wall, not wanting either of them, or his friend to be on their agenda, and wondering what Macleod knew about these Watchers, if anything. "When I leave, if he's still there, I think it's pretty safe to say he's watching you. When I get home I'll tell you if he's still there or not. For right now can you help me with these reports so I can get some sleep. After all, it is already 10:00 in the morning." He looked up at the clock, surprised at the time. "Yeah sure. Go get everything set up at the table. I'll be there in just a minute." Secrets - Part 9/12 "Hey Macleod," he heard as he entered his barge. "How did you know I was coming back. No, don't tell me, Watchers. He's going to spot them." Macleod entered and took off his coat, and gestured, "Why don't you sit down Joe. I have a feeling your going to be here a while." "So what did you find out about him?" Dawson asked as he sat down. "Well, I've confirmed that he is 800 years old and the heir to Brabant. At least that's what he told me, and he didn't seem to be lying, plus it corresponds to what was in his file." He paused, and Joe gestured to him to continue. "Over the past century he's been a doctor, a teacher, a reporter, and an archeologist. I found out he was at Altun Kinal, an archeological dig, and he was also the night curator and associate professor of the Archeological Museum at the University of Chicago at one time. His sun allergy seems to be pretty serious. While I was there, I saw his skin almost burn while he was standing in the early morning light, it was barely even dawn yet. From experiments that his friend Natalie has done, she believes he would probably die if exposed to too much sunlight, even as an Immortal." Joe shook his head, "Man, being allergic to sunlight, that has got to be bad, especially when you're an Immortal. Doomed to spend an eternal life in darkness." He paused, then said, "You said that when you originally met him he seemed depressed. Is he still like that?" "Yes. He's even worse now, at least from what I could tell. Natalie had said he keeps trying to walk into the sun, and from what she said, I don't think it is entirely because of having to stay inside during the day. He thinks he's evil, something that is also conveyed in his book. While I was there, he seemed to be really preoccupied, he spaced off a lot." "Sounds like his life has been good and bad, extremes at both ends. I'm going to have my people check up on a couple of things, and I'm going to do some research myself." He slowly got up, and with his cane, walked toward the entrance. "Mac, I hope your friend is what he seems. From what you've told me he sounds like a really nice guy, if a little depressed. Someone that if I have the chance, would like to meet." Joe left the barge and Macleod was left to contemplate his friend. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. When Tracy left for home, the man reading the paper was still standing outside. He was in the same spot as before and amazingly enough, he was even on the same page. Tracy drove to her apartment and called Nick. He picked up immediately. "Brabant," she heard in what she now knew as her partner's French voice, one she first heard almost a year ago. "Nick, it's Tracy. The man outside was still there when I left. And get this, he was still on the same page." She spoke in English, and was surprised when he didn't tell her to use French, instead he used English as well. "Great. So that means he's watching me," he sighed. "Nick, what are you going to do if he's still there when you leave for work?" she asked. "I'll probably confront him, and get him to leave by any means necessary. Don't worry, I'll just frighten him, and hopefully that will be enough." "Okay Nick. I'll see you at work tonight." Tracy hung up, knowing he could easily let it go too far, but knew better than to mention it to him, he knew that all too well. Nick went to sleep, with a feeling of dread seeping its way into his very being. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Nick got ready for work and as soon as it was dark enough for him to safely venture out, started for the door. Natalie was right next to him and was going to go with him. "Natalie, stay here. I'm going to see if he's still out there. Okay?" "Yeah. Just don't do anything rash." Nick smiled, then opened the door and went outside. He walked around the corner toward the parking lot, and passed by the man reading the paper, pretending as if he didn't even notice him. The man was just as Tracy described, average height, with brown hair, reading a paper from about three weeks ago. Nick walked by as if continuing to his car, and listened for the man's footsteps. They started five seconds after Nick passed him. After turning the corner he took to the air. The man turned the corner to find no evidence of any kind of life. The man he was supposed to watch was gone, seemed to have disappeared into thin air. He was about to turn around, when a hand gripped his shoulder from behind. "Well, how's the paper?" Nick asked with a smile, causing the man's heartbeat to almost double in speed. Once the shock had passed, the man attempted to run, but was stopped by Nick, who was now standing in front of him. Nick grabbed his left wrist and looked at the Watcher tattoo. "So, you like to watch. In my opinion a little too much." "Um . . . It's not what you think. I'm just watching, it's my job." The man's voice was soft and nervous, he was totally unprepared to actually come face to face with the Immortal before him, or any Immortal for that matter. "You can watch someone else." Nick's eyes became icy, like those of death. He tried to pull away once again, but was stopped by the Immortal he was assigned to watch. One he knew was classified as dangerous. He pleaded, "Just let me go! I promise I'll never come back!" Nick used his vampiric powers to slightly persuade the man, "That's right, you will demand to be reassigned. You will never watch me again." Nick was glad the man already wanted to do as he wanted him to. It made it very easy to hypnotize someone, especially when they wanted to believe what they were told. The man stopped struggling as he listened to the Immortal's voice, and his eyes glazing over slightly. "I will demand to be reassigned. Won't watch you again, I'll tell my superiors immediately," the man droned out under Nick's hypnotic influence. "Okay, that's enough," he ceased influencing the man, who now was regaining his senses, and once again tried to pull away. "Now, I suggest you leave before I change my mind about letting you go." He looked into the man's eyes of death, and started to back up. Nick took a step toward the man, and he took off running into the night. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Dawson!" came a voice surrounded by knocking and pounding on the door. "What is it?" Joe said as he opened the door to reveal an extremely pale man, scarred enough that he was shaking uncontrollably. "Tom, what's wrong?" he asked, although he figured it had something to do with de Brabant. He had assigned him to this Immortal because he was good at not being seen, and that was who was needed. The man entered and after Joe closed the door said, "I want to be reassigned, Brabant found me out." "How did he find you?" Joe asked, frustrated that this particular Immortal seemed to be able to sense when something was even a tiny bit wrong, and concerned about the man in front of him. "After he exited his apartment, I, I followed him. I was sure he hadn't seen me. When he turned a corner, he, he wasn't there, but was behind me instead. It was him, it was Brabant. He's extremely strong, could have easily broken my bones, I think he almost did." The man paused then he continued, "And his eyes, they were the eyes of death . . . " Tom trailed off and sat down in a chair, holding his head in his hands. "Okay. I'm going to put you in research for a while, until all of this is over with." "Yeah, reassign me. Just never to Brabant again. Okay Joe? I never want to watch him again." "Sure. Now, Tom, do you want a ride to your place?" His answer seemed to calm him a bit. "No, I'll just walk home. See you later Joe. And thanks for reassigning me. Later, Joe." He left, still shaking, but obviously in better condition than when he had arrived. "Later," Dawson said as he thought about what the man said. He remembered his conversation with Miquel. He had said something about Brabant's eyes as well. He had said they looked like killers' eyes and scarred him to death, and that they had a hint of madness in them. It matched precisely with what Tom just told him, and with his frightened appearance. Brabant was getting more interesting as a person, and more dangerous, at least to his people. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Over the next several days not much occurred. The homicides Nick and Tracy ended up being assigned with were very simple and didn't need much extra time, which unfortunately made their work very uninteresting. It was downright boring. Tracy's French was slowly improving, now rarely having to ask Nick for help filling out the forms. The man that had been watching Nick's apartment had stopped immediately, and no one replaced him. Macleod had called to see if he and Nick could get together on Friday the 25th to work out, and Nick was glad he had not forgotten the skills he had learned on the sword. They had agreed since it was Nick's day off, and that day had arrived, turning slowly into night. Outside Macleod's barge, the sun not fully set yet, a motorcycle pulled up, and its rider paused sensing Macleod. He walked onto the boat and knocked on the door. Macleod greeted his guest first with a sword, but then let him in, asking, "Richie, what are you doing here?" concerned that he decided to show up when he did, and wondering what kind of trouble he had gotten into now. "I just thought I'd stop by." When he saw the look his teacher was giving him, he added, "Honest. I just came to visit." "Okay, I believe you. Actually, I have another old friend in town right now." "Do I know him?" he asked curiously, knowing that by old friend, he meant an Immortal. "No, you probably don't. This is only the second time I've met him. If it wasn't for Joe, I wouldn't even know he was in the city." "When was the first time you met him?" his curiosity grew, seeing Macleod wasn't specific in his response. "During the Civil War. He was a doctor on the Union side, and for several weeks I had helped him. At the time I didn't think any more of it, and I couldn't sense him." "What do you mean, you wouldn't know he was here, unless Joe told you?" he asked, remembering what he had said earlier. Macleod sat heavily on his couch, and replied, "I guess he and another Immortal killed several renegade Watchers about nine months ago. They also killed a researcher, who had seen him and three others later that night after the dead renegades were discovered." "Mac, are you sure this guy is a friend?" Richie asked, suspicious. If this Immortal killed several renegade watchers, and then the researcher, he might not be a good Immortal. "Are you sure he's not going to turn on you, and kill you?" "Richie, he's not that kind of person," he said, raising his voice slightly, trying to get Richie to listen. "How do you know what kind of person he is? You said you've only met him twice. Once before he was an Immortal, and again, what, a couple of days ago?" Richie began to pace slightly. "Well, I didn't say he wasn't an Immortal, just that I didn't feel him. He's older than I am, about twice my age. Here read this," he said handing the poem book to his student. Richie picked it up and at first just looked at it. Then looking up at Macleod, he opened it and read some of the poems that were in English, not understanding the dialect of French. He still could say very little in modern French. Near the back he found one that was in English, amongst several others in French. He read it and discovered it spoke of a creature, one which must die, that will die, and it was also written in first person. All of the poems were written in the same flowing hand no matter what language it was written in. The poems spanning about a century in time. In the back was a signature and a note to Macleod. He didn't know enough French to read it, and asked, "Are these written by your friend?" Macleod nodded and looking at the signature asked, "Is your friend Nicholas de Brabant?" He received another nod, then commented, "I was up toward Brabant on my way here, a bunch of reporters were at a bar in Brussels, and I had overheard them talking about it. I guess there are important meetings happening up there." "Actually, there are meetings going on, and Nick's the present heir," Macleod told his friend. "So then, this guy is royalty?" Richie asked, wanting to find out more about him, his curiosity piqued. "Basically, or at least what would have been considered nobility. He'll be here in about fifteen minutes. We're going to go workout." "Could I come with you guys?" he asked, already knowing what the answer was. "Well, it's not up to me. It depends on if Nick minds if you come along or not. I think he'll let you, but I can't speak for him." Richie nodded and resumed his seat, asking, "So what does he do? He'd probably make a wonderful teacher." The last he commented remembering the complexity of the poems he read, and wished he could read the others. "He's a homicide detective, doing an exchange with Paris. He actually lives in Toronto, and is only here because of the meetings you talked about." "What does he look like?" still curious about him, his suspicions put on hold for a while. "Well, let's see. He appears to be in his early thirties, has golden blonde hair, and is about my height." Both felt the presence of another Immortal, and Macleod commented, "And that's probably him right now." They both stood up, and only Macleod moved toward the door and waited for a knock. When it came, he asked, "Who is it?" In reply he heard, "It's me, Nicholas," and opened the door for his friend. "So, Macleod, who's your friend?" Nick asked as he came inside, his eyes immediately resting on Richie, becoming guarded and a little darker. "This is Richie Ryan. He was a student of mine." Nick approached the young man and took his hand and shook it and said, "Richie, I'm Nicholas de Brabant, but you can call me Nick, if you want." Nick smiled, his expression becoming more relaxed, and sat down. "Mac told me you two were going to go workout, and I was wondering if I could come along. That is if you wouldn't mind." "Sure, you can come," Nick said, having no reason to not let him, and then added, "Let's get ready to go." They left in Macleod's vehicle as Nick again didn't bring his, and arrived at the Martial arts place soon after. They went in and Macleod asked, "Have you done much in this field?" "Not really. Fencing is more my forte," Nick answered seriously, but knew he knew more than most, and that his photographic memory and abilities as a vampire would make him almost impossible to defeat. It didn't matter if he didn't know everything, his speed would compensate, no, overcompensate for his actual lack of skill. "Do you want to learn a few things?" Macleod asked, assuming his friend only knew a few things, by the response he had received. "Sure. I mean it can't hurt, can it?" Nick replied with a grin, knowing Macleod had probably underestimated his ability. Richie decided he would watch for a while, and leaned against the wall. They both got on the mat, each dressed in sweat pants and T- shirts. At first they started out with easy stuff, Nick coming out each time with ease. It quickly got into ever more difficult moves. Richie watched as Macleod ended up on the mat after each attempt. Richie was amazed, he'd never seen someone beat Macleod this many times, especially at such difficult moves. He saw several moves that Macleod had taught him but he had never figured out how to counter successfully, yet Nick figured them out unconsciously. Several even more complicated moves that he had never even seen were used, but to no effect. By now almost all of the people in the building were watching the two men, going at each other. One attempting to defeat the other, but never succeeding. After one particularly rough move which slammed Macleod into the mat, the blonde man helped the dark-haired man up and they suggested that he and Richie could try some sword stuff. He needed a rest, Nicholas was a lot better than he had expected, or at least a lot faster. Nick and Richie each used a pair of Japanese swords and started out. This time, Nick went much softer on Richie because he could tell from his vibration that he couldn't be much older than he appeared and probably didn't know too much and wasn't as skilled as Macleod. Plus he wanted to get a handle on the weapons. Richie realized what Nick was doing, and told him, "Hey, you don't need to hold back." Nick nodded, and they started again, Richie being defeated in seconds, not expecting to be brought down that quickly. "How did you do that?" he asked from his position on the floor, both swords no longer in his hands. "Just something I learned." He helped the young Immortal up and patted him on the back as they stepped away from the work out area. They road back to the barge and once they were there, and had changed back into their usual clothes, Macleod asked, "Just how good are you with a sword?" "Well I'm still alive, aren't I?" he said, not wanting to answer the question. He took a small sip of the water that Macleod gave him, trying to show as little discomfort drinking it as he could, and added, seeing Macleod would not settle for his answer, "I actually don't really know. I haven't fought many Immortals." 'None to be exact,' his mind added. "Do you want to fight me? Not for real, but just to work out a little more. I'm sure Richie will enjoy watching us. And anyway, I want to find out, and then I'll tell you." "Sure. Where are we going to do this?" he said deciding it couldn't hurt, but at a loss as to where they were going to go. "On the top of the barge. That's where I usually work out. No one ever notices, or if they do, they don't seem to care." The last he added, in response to the skeptical look on Nick's face. They took their swords out, and put their coats in a pile on the ground. 'Boy am I glad I decided to bring it,' Nick thought, knowing his cover would have been blown if he didn't have it with him. After all, who heard of an Immortal that didn't carry a sword, or at least some kind of protection? Nick's was a typical strait sword, with the crest of de Brabant in the grip, identical to the one he had in his mortal life which was back at the apartment. He noticed the Japanese dragon-headed sword his friend used, recognizing the maker, and noting as much to him. They both bowed to one another, in a show of respect, then began. At first Nick just parried Macleod's thrusts, being only on the defensive, not really knowing what he was doing, but using his speed, his observation of Macleod, and his perfect recall to remember moves. After ten minutes, they were both on the defensive and the offensive. Macleod could tell he was losing, even though they seemed to be evenly matched to an observer, and after he was de-armed, his opponent being in possession of both swords, Nick put them down. Joe watched from the top of a bridge with binoculars, doing what he could on his own and staying out of sight, and was amazed not only at this Immortal's skill, but his speed. Nick helped Macleod up with a smile on his face, and was caught off guard when he was pushed off the side of the boat, but was still able to pull Macleod, who was smiling at his apparent victory, in with him. They fell into the water almost at the same time with a great splash and Macleod surfaced first. Joe almost started to laugh, but knew better. After about a minute of waiting, still in the river, Macleod wondered what happened to Nick. He couldn't hear anything and looked around for something to tell him his friend was there. He was about to call out his friend's name, when he was suddenly pulled under the water. He was pulled down and under quickly, more so than any mortal or even Immortal should be able to. After about two minutes of being underwater he was released and he swam quickly to the surface to get air. Joe watched this, and wondered what could have happened to Nick. Once Macleod had reached the surface, and finding Nick still wasn't up, he asked Richie, "Have you seen Nick?" "No, he still hasn't come up yet. Why?" he asked, almost laughing at the end. "Because I'm going to kill him when he does," he replied figuratively. Suddenly Nick came up right in front of Macleod and splashed him with water. "You know what? You both look like a couple of drenched dogs, and I'm happy I'm the rookie." They looked at each other and smiled, knowing Richie's next. "Come on, help us out of the water. Don't worry, we're not going to pull you in," Macleod said convincingly as he got all of the way out of the water and Nick was almost out when Macleod solidly pushed Richie toward the edge, which caused Nick to lose his balance. As he started his decent, Nick grabbed Macleod's arm trying to regain his balance, pulling him into the water once again. This time, Joe had to put his hand up to his mouth to prevent making any sounds. Once he was sure he wasn't going to laugh, he again used the binoculars to watch the event occurring in the Seine. Nick again disappeared from view, and both Richie and Macleod knew what would happen next, but didn't get out of the water soon enough. This time they were both pulled under, and they stayed just as long as before, perhaps a little longer. As soon as they were released, both swam quickly to the surface. As soon as they reached the surface they got out of the water, and back onto the barge. Nick surfaced soon after, and looked upward toward Macleod and Richie, seeing they had taken the ladder away. "Come on, help me out of the water." They started to shake their heads and Nick said, "I'm not going to do anything. I promise." He looked toward the now rising sun and said, "Come on, I really don't want to know what it's like to be a piece of barbeque." Macleod looked toward the horizon, and knowing he was serious, said, "Okay, here, grab onto my hand." Nick grabbed his hand, but his weight was too much and Macleod asked for help. "Richie, help me." "You want me to help him? He'll just pull us under again," not noticing that Nick seemed to be concerned. "No, he won't, he's allergic to sunlight. It could kill him as easily as being beheaded." "Oh . . . I'm sorry." He quickly went to help Nick get out of the water. "Here," and seconds later Nick was standing on the barge, dripping wet. They entered the barge and disappeared from Joe's view. He stood there on the bridge, shaking his head back and forth, marveling at this Immortal's abilities, and the events he witnessed. 'Now that's something you don't see very often.' This event gave him another insight into Brabant. It didn't seem to matter how old you were, five, twenty, or four hundred. One still wanted to act like a kid, and he'd seen it first hand. He put away his binoculars and walked slowly toward his car. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "Can I use your phone?" Nick asked Macleod and added, "I need to tell Natalie that I am safe for the day at your place." "Go ahead, the phone's over there," he said pointing to the phone. He dialed his home phone number, and Natalie picked up almost immediately. "Brabant," she said, the worry etched into her voice. "Natalie, it's okay, I'm at Macleod's and it looks like I'll be here for the day. I'll see you tonight before I go in, Okay?" "Yeah, remember, be careful, they don't know all your secrets," she cautioned, hoping nothing would happen to change that. "Don't worry, I'll stay in control. Bye Nat." "Bye," she hung up and so did Nick. Macleod changed clothes and put his wet ones in the washer. Next Richie changed and then Nick. Neither Nick nor Richie had more clothes to put on so they both ended up in sweat pants and T-shirts. "Macleod, you know what? I haven't had this much fun in, well I don't know since when." Nick started to feel sick from the amount of non blood drinks he had consumed, and leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to control the nausea. "So, what have you been doing since we last met?" "Well, I've been an antique dealer, a soldier, teacher and a few other things." Nick nodded at this, that's what he expected. "Are you from Scotland?" he asked, remembering Tracy's question, and decided to find out for himself. "Yes, actually, I am. Was it the name?" figuring that was what gave it away, that's how most figured it out anyway. "Not entirely, it was also the slight accent." "You know you really are good with a sword," Macleod commented, being completely serious. Yeah, right at first he seemed to be a little unsteady, but that quickly disappeared. "Not as good as you are," Nick told him knowing Macleod already knew that, as he put his empty glass on the table. "Now guys, wait a minute. You're saying you're not as good as Mac, but you beat him in everything. How can that be?" Richie asked confused. "I'm the better fighter, but he's faster, much faster. There are a couple of things you need much improvement in, and a few I could too. Next time we get together, we should probably make it your place, with your allergy and all. Besides, this way we won't get an unexpected bath." Nick laughed, "Yeah, that might be a good idea." "How can an Immortal have an allergy, I mean an actual mortal allergy?" Richie asked after a few minutes, remembering one of Macleod's friends would sneeze whenever he got around another Immortal. "I don't know. All I know is since I became immortal, I haven't been able to withstand sunlight." 'Which isn't a lie,' he told himself. "Remember that book you gave me?" Macleod asked and handed the book to its writer. "You did keep it. I was planning on dying after I gave that to you." He took the book in his hands and skimmed through it, reading some, and remembering what his past had been like, the memories returning to him as vivid as when he had experienced them. "Most of the writing is in a dialect that I can only understand some of. I was wondering if you could read the last one in English. That one was written about me, wasn't it?" "Yes, it was. You were my friend even though I insisted that I was a monster. You were then, and you still are. It actually isn't a poem, but more of a note. It says: "'A good man, beyond any I have met before. Wisdom beyond any mortals grasp, a mind from the past that will live through time's wrath. He does not judge on past actions, but on those of the present. He shall see the future, and I hope he will remember the good he once saw in a creature which he considered his friend. A creature held in evil against its will. One that will soon be free of it forever, by seeing the light of day.' "Some of the meaning doesn't transfer exactly, but it's pretty close." Nick closed the book, and looked up slightly. At first silence filled the boat, then Richie asked, "Do you still write?" Nick smiled and told him, "Not much, at least not words. In my free time I like to paint and play the piano. It's something I can do that doesn't harm anyone, well, usually." "So, Nicholas, how has Tracy been doing on her French?" Macleod said, trying to change the subject, sensing the dark mood that had fallen over the room. "She is improving. She rarely needs to ask for help anymore. Nine months ago she could barely speak it, let alone write it, and now she is doing very well." "How long has she been your partner?" Macleod asked, hoping to continue on this subject. A darkness spread across his visage, and he replied, "About a year and a half. My previous partner had to transport a prisoner to Alberta. I was supposed to be the one to go. I caught him, but I let Schanke go in my place. Our Captain went with him. Tracy was supposed to be my temporary partner. Only for a week, until Schanke returned, and the same thing with the captain. That night the plane they were on was bombed, the only survivors being a baby girl and an Immortal that got away, presumed dead. I almost left Toronto after that, believing that it was all my fault, because of a curse on an object I had in my possession." "What stopped you?" Macleod asked. "Natalie found out and got really mad at me for leaving, resigning without saying anything. Then the bomber went after police stations. The bomber used a specific song that played on a music box when the bomb was set off. It was the song that was playing just before the plane crashed, the same song that had started playing when the Captain called me on the phone. I told him to get everyone out of the precinct, told him not to move, that I would be there shortly. After arriving, I took the Captain's place, and once he was out of the building, set the bomb off and jumped out of the window. After that, I ended up going back to work, and solved the case with my partner and help from the Immortal that survived the crash, and another." "So, Tracy became your partner, after your previous partner's death?" "Yeah. At first I didn't want another partner, I was afraid I would just get her killed. And I've gotten pretty close on a couple of times." "How close?" Richie asked. "On one case we were supposed to meet someone, and it turned out to be a setup. He was aiming for Tracy and I saw him, so I pushed her out of the way and took the bullet in the head. With quick help from Natalie, I was able to keep my 'life,' even though I had actually died. I lost my memory, of who and what I was. Tracy went on her own again later to meet the gunman, and I barely got there in time to stop him, still not possessing all of my memories." Nick walked over toward the window, staying just out of the sun's rays. After several minutes, he passed his hand through the light several times, not enough to burn, but long enough to cause his skin to become red. The day passed quickly, each telling stories of their life, most of which were recent events. Day slowly became night and Macleod offered to take Nick home which he gladly accepted. Once to his place he said good night and told him he wouldn't be back for several days, the meetings were beginning soon. Secrets - Part 10/12 Dawson again visited Macleod later that night, and this time Richie was also there. "Richie, I need to talk to Mac." "Joe, let him stay, he knows what is going on and can provide another opinion," knowing what it was about, and not seeing any reason Richie should leave. The Watcher looked at Richie, and responded, "Okay. I found out about a couple of the places he's worked. At Altun Kinal, he and a couple of the other dig members, were called vampires by the Indians after several of the Indian workers turned up dead. He and the other dig members had made several amazing discoveries, and ended up having to leave the dig early." "What, because of his sun allergy?" Richie asked. "That and several Indians were found with their blood drained. They obviously suspected him, and his companion was also suspected, and he couldn't let them find out he was an Immortal, so he had to leave. Also, while he was teaching at the University of Chicago in 1954, he was put on trial for being a communist. Some of the other faculty members made the accusation and as other accusations it was taken seriously. As a result of the trial they bottles of animal blood in his refrigerator. The story made the front page, and he was forced to leave after the trial. Also a couple of years ago, while in Toronto someone set him up, made it look like he was the murderer. When they went through his home, they also found several bottles of blood in his refrigerator, again animal. If they hadn't found the killer, he would have been forced out again." "Joe, are you trying to tell me that he is a vampire?" Macleod said, trying to figure out where his friend was going with the conversation. "I'm not saying he is one, just that someone is trying to make him look like one, and most likely an Immortal someone. I mean we both know there is no such thing as a vampire. But remember Nicholas Ward, how he pretended to be a vampire. Others could do the same and easily set someone up. It would force him out of his life, and in the last case it almost did, but they found the real murderer." "Yeah, but why would someone do that?" not understanding any motive that could be behind it. "He's a good fighter, I'm sure you know that." "How did you know that?" Macleod asked, aware he hadn't said anything to Joe, and that they'd never seen him fight. Joe even admitted that before. "Simple, since I can't get anyone to watch him, I've been watching him, and as discreetly as possible. I saw you two on the barge early this morning and I watched, he is good, and he's fast. Most Immortals wouldn't survive a fight with him, perhaps none. Remember the poem book? Well he considered himself a monster, and as a result got extremely depressed. He was willing to give up his life. Some of the things that have happened to him would only enhance that belief. If he were to fight an Immortal in that condition, there would be a big chance that he would lose, he wouldn't want to win, and might purposely be careless. Brabant isn't a young Immortal, and he is a very good fighter, but he can also be very vulnerable, probably more than most. Someone could easily be playing a game with him, and he wouldn't even know it." Macleod thought about it a little bit, then realized that Nick would have noticed, if he had caught the two watchers, he couldn't miss what Joe was suggesting. "If Nick could catch onto two of your watchers so quickly, wouldn't you think he'd know about someone setting him up?" He shook his head, "I don't know. Perhaps he does know, but just can't do anything about it, or doesn't think he should." Dawson got up and said, "I have a watcher, Daniel, that's going to be up there at the estate. He doesn't have the tattoo, he's allergic to the dye, so I don't think he'll be found out. I'll tell you about what's happening, keep you updated. See you later Mac, Richie." He left the boat, letting the two Immortals think about what they had been told. Maybe they would think of something he hadn't. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Joe went home and found an envelope waiting for him. He opened it and discovered it told of another group of renegade Watchers that were now setting themselves up in France. He found the number of the cell phone he gave Daniel. He dialed its number and waited for it to pick up. "Hello," came Daniel's voice. "Daniel, how's everything going so far?" "So far she doesn't suspect anything, but Nicholas isn't here yet. He'll be arriving in a couple of days. So, what's happening over there?" "I called to tell you about a group of renegade Watchers that are now setting up base here in France. If they decide to go after these too, they might not be as kind as they have to us that are just watching. If you see anyone you don't recognize, or that looks suspicious, call me. Be careful, bye Daniel." "Bye Joe," he hung up and went to make sure everything was being done as it was supposed to. Reporters were already arriving, and the castle was huge, he kept getting lost. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. It was now the 28th, the day before the first meeting. Nick, Natalie, and Tracy arrived a few hours after sunset and were immediately greeted by Fleur. She was wearing a simple black dress, and her hair was flowing over her shoulders. "Nicolas, welcome home. Natalie, Tracy, I hope you enjoy your stay here." She paused and looked toward a young blond-haired man, and said, "This is Daniel. He's been helping me the last few days and will be here for at least the next eight months. Daniel, this is my brother Nicolas, a friend of his Natalie Chevalier, and his partner Tracy Vachon. They will be staying here on and off during the next eight months. Daniel, will you please take my guests to their rooms." He went to the massive doors, and after opening one said, "Please follow me." They made their way down the hallway, and Daniel asked curiously, "Are you staying in Paris?" "Yes, we are," Nick answered. "After I show you to your rooms, I will take you to the library. Fleur wishes to speak to you about something, probably the meetings." He paused then told them, "After these preliminary meetings, I and Fleur will be traveling with you back to Paris." Nick nodded and several minutes later they entered the library and were asked to sit down. Daniel left and said he would be available if he was needed. Fleur began, asking, "Nicolas, how has everything been going for you since our last meeting?" "Fine, the anger is still hard to control, and it seems I am under surveillance. I've found two Watchers. One was one of the detectives doing the exchange, and Tracy found another one outside my apartment." "Yes, it seems I am also under surveillance. I hired Daniel, because the one originally appointed was definitely a Watcher, and I'm not sure, but I think Daniel might be one too. He doesn't have the tattoo, but sometimes when I walk into a room he will stop writing in a book and close it. He gets really nervous, like he's hiding something from me. I don't think he will be a problem though." Nick held up his hand and listened more closely to the heartbeat outside in the hall. He whispered, "There's someone in the hall, with a very fast heartbeat." She turned her head slightly to the door, and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she told him, "Yes, now I hear him. Everyone should have gone home by now, everyone except Daniel." "Nick, I don't hear anyone," Natalie said, then concentrated harder, eventually faintly hearing it. "Both because of our age and Immortality, we have more sensitive hearing than you do." "He's leaving," Nick commented. "I'm going to follow him, make sure he doesn't do anything." Nick stood up and said, "We should probably all get some sleep. The meeting starts at 10:00 tomorrow morning." Everyone exited the room and Nick went toward Daniel's room. He paused right outside the room and listened as Daniel dialed a number on his phone, his heart still racing. Nick opened up his senses so he could hear both sides of the conversation. As soon as it was picked up, Daniel said, "Joe?" "Yeah, Daniel what is it?" "I think they are on to me, I think they know I'm a Watcher. I was standing outside of the library while they were talking and Nicholas heard me. I left but I think they know it was me because only them and myself were in the castle at the time." "Okay, don't listen in on any more conversations, just observe, from a distance. You can't leave, unfortunately you will still be there for the length of the meetings." He paused and waited for Daniel to say something. On the other end, Nick had entered the room and was now standing silently in front of Daniel. "Um, Joe. I think I should go, I have a visitor." He listened to his friend's shaky voice and knew his visitor must be Brabant. "Okay, but I'll expect you to call later. Good night Daniel." Daniel stood completely still. He didn't even switch the phone off yet, and it was still in his hand. "Can I help you?" Nick sat in one of the chairs and gestured for Daniel to do the same. He sat down slowly, not sure what was going to happen, and once seated, Nick said, "You might want to turn your phone off." After Daniel did so, Nick told him, "You should be a little more careful when observing people, some might be a little angry." He paused and Daniel swallowed. "I know what you are. So do the rest of us, you don't need to hide it. As long as you watch, and only watch, I'll let you be. If you interfere, it is not my responsibility to keep you alive, you may die for your actions. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand," Daniel replied, trying not to sound nervous, while the man's eyes bored into his very soul. "Good. Now remember to be up early for tomorrow." Nick's voice had returned to the almost casual tone when they first met, his features softening greatly, then he turned and exited the room. For several minutes Daniel sat speechless at what had just occurred. He picked up his cell phone and hit the redial button and told Joe all about what happened, remembering the cold blue eyes looking through him. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The first meetings consisted of introductions and drawing up the schedule for the rest of the meetings. Daniel had gotten used to Nick, and the same with Nick. They stayed an extra day, Nick and Fleur showing Natalie and Tracy around the castle and its estate. On the next night, November 5, they got all their stuff together and got into their vehicles. Tracy, Natalie, and Nick traveling in one, and Fleur and Daniel in the other. They arrived at Nick's apartment three hours later and then continued to Fleur's hotel. The group talked until an hour before sunrise, then said good night. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The next night Macleod waited for Richie, they were supposed to meet before going to dinner. When he didn't show after an hour, he canceled reservations and called his friend's hotel, for the fourth time. After no answer, he called Joe and asked, "Do you know where Richie is?" "I don't know where his, but I do know you aren't going to see him tonight. Richie was shot, then put in the back of a truck. His Watcher was knocked out and just called me a few minutes ago. He recognized one of the guys as being a former Watcher and he believes them to be the renegades." "Damn," Macleod says, knowing they now have a major problem. "Exactly. So far Richie is the only one, but I believe that's going to change. I think they are just starting." Joe paused, and then added, "I'll get back to you later. I really need to talk to my people about this. Macleod, be careful, they might come after you next." "Yeah, call me when you find out what's going on." He replaced the phone on its receiver, wishing this turn of events hadn't occurred. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. That same night, Nick and Tracy went on their lunch, well Nick didn't eat anything, but he still went with her, like usual. Tracy had to go back to the car to get her purse shortly after they entered the diner, and told Nick to order for her. Nick was startled out of his reverie by a woman's scream, Tracy's scream. He headed outside as fast as he could among the mortals, but by the time he got outside, no one was there except innocent bystanders. He called the station and told his Captain what happened. His Captain gave him the rest of the night off, and Natalie too after he had given his statement of what happened. Nick decided to go to Macleod's and talk to him, Natalie went along. When they arrived, they were let right in, and asked to sit down. "So Nick, what brings you here tonight?" "I just came by to talk. A friend of mine, Tracy, was kidnapped a couple of hours ago." "She was kidnapped? When? How?" he immediately asked becoming concerned, they weren't just going after Immortals. Tracy wasn't even a Watcher, she was just an innocent mortal. "We were on our lunch break, and she went to get her purse out of the car. Then I heard her scream, and by the time I got to where we parked, she and all traces of her were gone." Under his breath he added, not meaning for anyone else to hear, "I thought it was bad that I was being watched." "What did you say?" Macleod asked, hearing something about being watched. "It wasn't anything important," Nick told him, shrugging the comment off. Macleod was just about to say something when the phone rang. 'Why did it always have to ring at the most inconvenient available time.' "If you'll excuse me, I'll get that." He received a polite nod from Nick, then he picked up the phone. "Macleod." "Mac, it's Joe. Look, we got a problem. You know Daniel, I told you about him earlier?" Joe said, his tone almost panicked. "Yeah," he answered, looking toward his two guests. "Well, he was kidnapped about twenty minutes ago. Another one of our people witnessed it, and called me." Nick listened in on the conversation, getting mad that his friend was in with the people that kidnapped him. The voice on the other end was the same one that spoke to Daniel while at the estate. And according to the man, he was also kidnapped. He was brought back to the present when he heard the man, Joe he believed his name was, drop the phone and then struggle, while Macleod tried to find out what was wrong. He saw his anger mirrored to a lesser degree when his friend put the phone down. "Nick, Tracy's not the only one kidnaped, so are . . ." Nick cut him off and said, "Two of your friends, Daniel and Joe," he said, almost with disgust. "Well I don't actually know Daniel, but I don't think he's my enemy. Richie was also taken. How did you know that?" Before anyone had a chance to listen, Macleod and Nick both felt the presence, and Nick said, "It is Fleur." Macleod went and opened the door to reveal a young woman, a woman matching the pictures he had been shown earlier. "Fleur this is Duncan Macleod, we met during the Civil War, Macleod, this is Fleur de Brabant." The two merely nodded to each other. Nick then decided that now was as good a time as any to make his statement and did. "You know about Watchers. What they are and what they do. You still associate with them knowing this. Why?" Nick was now standing directly in front of Macleod and his eyes were changing slightly, a few golden flecks working their way in. "Yes, I do know what the Watchers are, and that's all they are; watchers. They watch and record." Macleod thought he saw something, but dismissed it. Nick got even angrier, this time his eyes changing all of the way to a golden-green color. "They don't just watch and record, they kill too!" Macleod witnessed his friends eyes change from an icy blue, to an unnatural animalistic color. He caught a glimpse of sharp fangs as Nick spoke and started to back away on instinct. This isn't real, his mind tried to tell him, but real it was. Very real. As Nick's anger intensified, his eyes changed even further, to a deep, scarlet red. Fleur and Natalie pulled Nick back and forced him to sit down. "What do you mean, that's all they are, watchers?" Natalie demanded while holding Nick, preventing him from getting back up, knowing he was on the edge of his control. "Watchers are an organization of mortals, historians, that watch and record, but they don't interfere. Most Immortals don't even know about them. A few of them believe Immortals are evil, that we should all die. They are renegades and many die, either by other watchers, or Immortals, like ourselves." Macleod stopped his explanation and looked toward his friend Nick, now not as visibly angry, but still in his transformed state. "What I want to know, is what are you?" he asked, looking at Nick. Nick knew he had blown his cover, and told him, "I am both Immortal and vampire. I guess I was a pre-Immortal when I was brought across, made into a vampire, and so when I was almost killed by these renegades, by some sort of virus, I guess it triggered my Immortality. That's why you weren't able to sense me before, I wasn't an Immortal, but I was immortal." By the time he was finished speaking his features were back to normal as if nothing had happened. "So you're a vampire?" Macleod asked, still a little unbelieving. "Yes, and so are Fleur and Natalie. Fleur is also Immortal like me, Natalie is not." "I just can't believe it. I mean, vampires are supposed to be myth, but here you are, a vampire, standing before my eyes." Nick's expression softened a little farther, and he almost laughed saying, "Yeah, that's what I thought when I found out Immortals were real, and that I was now one." Macleod sat down and remembered the things Joe had told him, about all of the violent, brutal things Nick had done. "Nicholas. I know about what happened nine months ago, about all of the Watchers that were killed. Did you kill them?" Nick looked away and answered, "Not all of them, only one or two." "Who killed the others?" he asked remembering that about a dozen were killed. "Fleur or LaCroix, my master, killed them. LaCroix finished killing Girard, their leader." "What about the innocent Watcher, the photographer?" "I didn't kill anyone that didn't deserve it!" He said as he got up and moved toward one of the small windows. "All of those that died by my hand were in the mansion." Nick's voice crescendoed and his eyes turned gold momentarily. "LaCroix probably killed him. He didn't seem particularly happy, and I saw him fly back toward the mansion before we left," Fleur said. "Why don't we discuss who killed who later," Natalie said, not seeing how it what help their current problem, then asked, "So far four people have been kidnapped, right?" "Yes, Tracy, Richie, Daniel and Joe were kidnapped. Joe was in the process of getting information on the renegades, and was having someone doing research for him." "Do we have any way of getting this information?" Nick asked. "I'm not sure," Macleod paused and thought, then realized he still had a friend connected to the Watchers. "Wait, I know someone that might be able to help. Let me call him and see if he can." He walked over to the phone and dialed a number. "Hello," came a voice from the other end. As they talked Nick, Natalie, and Fleur listened in. "Adam, it's Macleod. Do you still have connections with the Watchers?" "Well, I'm not officially one anymore, but most don't know I'm an Immortal yet." "Could you get some information that Joe was working on?" "Wait, what do you mean, was?" "Joe, Richie, another Watcher Daniel and a friend of mine Tracy were all kidnapped by a group of renegade Watchers," Macleod said over the phone. "Horton's group?" "No, I don't think so." "I need to get the information on them, so that we can free them." "Okay, I'll get it, but I'm not planning to participate in any rescue mission. I'll call you later." "I'm going to be at a friend's place, so you'll need the number." He pulled the phone away and asked, "Nick, what's your number again?" to make sure he gave the right number to Adam. He repeated the number into the phone. Adam also repeated the number, and then asked, "Is that right?" "Yeah that's right. Call when you get the information. Bye." "Bye." They each hung up the phone and returned to their conversation. "Well, there's nothing we can do until he calls. I gave him your number because I figured you would like to get some sleep, and you have shutters at your place." "Yeah, there are shutters," Nick confirmed. "Okay, then let's go. It will probably be a couple hours at the least until Adam knows anything, and being night, it might not be until tomorrow before he can start," Macleod told the others. As Nick and Macleod moved toward the door, Fleur asked Natalie, "Would you come with me to get a few things from the hotel I'm staying at, so that I can stay with you and Nick for a while?" "Yeah, I'll go with you." They exited the boat and walked over to where Nick and Macleod were waiting by Macleod's vehicle. "Nick, I'm going to go with Fleur to help her get some stuff. We'll go home right after that, and should be there not long after you." "Be careful, they might be waiting for you at your room," Nick cautioned. "Yeah, you be careful as well." Fleur and Natalie walked a few steps away from the two men and took off into the night sky. Secrets - Part 11/12 Macleod just watched as they left, then stared at the now empty sky in the direction they went. Nick saw his friend's bafflement and took the keys from his hand, which quickly brought Macleod back to the present. Before he could say a word, Nick said, "I'll drive, you ask questions." Once they had gotten in the car Nick told his friend, "Ask away." "Well . . . " Macleod was at a slight loss of words, but finally exclaimed, "You can fly!?" "Yes, real vampires do have the ability to fly," Nick stated. "What about the other myths about you? Do crosses, garlic and holy water repel you? Does a wooden stake really kill you? And do you have a reflection when looking into a mirror?" Macleod asked with a slight pause between each question, and a bit of incredulity, lacing its way into his words. A smile appeared on Nick's face, Macleod surprisingly hadn't heard anything on real vampires, and knew no more than what the myths said. He knew no more than any mortal. "Crosses, garlic, and holy water do repel most vampires, although some will still attack and risk being burned by them. Other holy objects also burn. A wooden stake will kill a vampire if it goes all of the way through our heart and not removed, otherwise it is merely very painful. And by looking in the rearview mirror, you can see that yes I do have a reflection, and usually do, however some vampires never see a reflection of themselves, or can only under certain circumstances." They continued to talk, mainly about the abilities of a vampire. By this time they were over half way to Nick's apartment. "So, vampires are able to fly, and move faster than the eye can see, and have amazing strength, correct?" Macleod asked making sure he was understanding everything correctly. "Yes." "When we do rescue them, your abilities may be very useful." He paused and realized that Nick and Fleur were being watched and asked, "Have you made sure no one is around when you use your abilities?" "Yes, it is something that we do anyway, but we have been taking extra care after finding out about the Watchers. I don't think anyone has seen us." Macleod thought about it and said, "Good, I don't think they know what you are, but they consider you very dangerous, especially with what Watchers have said about you in the past month or so." "What have they said, and how do you know about it?" Nick asked, concerned, knowing they were probably petrified after talking to him. "Joe told me about it, and since we knew each other he wanted me to find out more, especially after the reaction both Miquel and the other Watcher got from you when they were discovered. They talked about your eyes and the change they underwent, from gentle, to ice cold. They were sure you could have killed them then and there, and knew you were holding back your anger, giving them a chance even though your previous experiences with their people have been disastrous." Nick winced slightly at the last comment knowing he went a little too far, mainly because of the new strength he needed to control, and was still having trouble doing, even though he'd had it for the better part of a year. Macleod thought a moment, then asked, "Do you kill people to get blood for you survival?" Nick slammed on the brakes, and luckily, because of the time of night the roads were almost completely empty. He turned toward Macleod and half yelled, "No!" He paused and regained his control and started to drive the last couple of blocks. In a calmer, more controlled voice he continued, "I don't kill for nourishment, or even drink human blood if I have a choice. I only do so when I need to gain control. Until nine months ago I didn't even need it then, but now over half of my diet is human blood, the rest is cow blood, which was previously my regular diet. I have to drink human blood to keep my control, if I don't, the vampire threatens to overtake me." The car pulled up to the apartment and they got out. Once they were safely in the apartment Macleod asked, "Could you show me how you fly and how you move?" "Sure," Nick answered shrugging slightly, deciding this way he might not have to explain as much, and he took off his winter coat, and put Macleod's on a coat rack with his own. He picked up the remote and closed the steel shutters, making it so no one could see in. With a smile Nick asked, "What do you want to see first, speed or flight?" "Speed," was the short answer, which was accompanied by a whoosh of air, and by the time Macleod's voice ceased, Nick was on the other side of the room grinning from ear to ear as Macleod shook his head in amazement. "Can all vampires do that?" "All can move faster than a human could, but not all can move as fast as I did, and others can move faster. I can move faster than most vampires since I became Immortal." "Okay, now let's see you fly." Macleod leaned back on a corner while he watched his friend slowly lift himself off the ground. He then felt another whoosh of air, much like the first and found Nick on the other side of the room once again, this time several feet above the ground. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, more graceful than any animal ever could, and walked over to Macleod. "Is that another ability that was enhanced by your new immortality?" "No, not really. I have always been very good at flying." A twinkle found its way into Nick's eye and made him look like a little boy staring at an ice cream cone. "You really like to fly don't you?" Macleod asked, guessing that was what caused the slight change in Nick. "Yes. It is the one thing I don't know if I could give up, the one thing I enjoy about being a vampire." At that moment they both felt an Immortal, and the door opened up revealing, Natalie and Fleur, each carrying a suitcase and another bag. "Has anything happened?" Natalie asked, noting the slight change in Nick as well. "No, I was just telling Mac about the abilities of a vampire and enjoying his reaction." By the time he finished a smile was plastered on his face and Macleod realized this was the old Nick, the joking side, a view that not many get the chance to see. He shook his head and walked over and grabbed the remote and asked, "Do you mind if I open the shutters back up until sunrise?" "No, go ahead," Nick replied. For the remaining few hours of the night they watched movies that were available and several television shows. At dawn Macleod got ready to take a nap on the floor, Fleur was now sleeping soundly on the couch. He returned to find Nick standing in front of the still open shutter, the first rays of the morning sun radiating down on him. Small ringlets of smoke were beginning to form in the air above his skin. Macleod was about to protest, to pull him out of the sunlight, when Natalie touched him on the shoulder and whispered, "Leave him. He does this almost every morning. He won't burn himself too seriously, there's nothing to worry about." True to her words, once the smoke became more apparent he closed the shutter, and leaned forward with his forehead resting against it, waiting for the mild burns to heal. He turned around to see Macleod looking at him and they stared at each other, each knowing what the other was feeling as Nick's eyes worked their way into Macleod's mind. After realizing what he was doing, Nick stopped and looked away from his friend. Macleod then slowly regained his awareness. For a moment he could swear he knew what Nick was feeling, he just couldn't remember, so he asked, "What did you do?" "On accident I tried to enter your mind, but I realized what I was doing and stopped. Since I was changed, I have had slight telepathic powers, probably just an enhancement of my ability to hypnotize, and they are a nuisance since I really don't know how to control them." They stood in silence for several minutes until the phone rang and interrupted the quietness. Nick walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver and answered, "Brabant." "This is Adam Pierson, is Macleod there?" Nick answered, "Yes," and gave the phone to Macleod. "Macleod, it's me, Adam. I have some information that might be useful to you." "What do you have?" "I confirmed that it is not Horton's group, they have all either been killed, or are completely without access to the Watchers' files. I found some files that are presently considered top secret and they detail the renegades' plans from nine months ago in Vancouver. They injected a virus into an Immortal, a Fleur de Brabant, and also infected another Immortal, her brother Nicholas de Brabant, but they didn't say how. They then told them they had an antidote, which they did, and that if they were to help them kill more Immortals, then they would make sure, Nicholas and Fleur survived. Since then many more files have been pulled on these two Immortals, although their files are very sparse in content." Macleod interrupted with, "Yeah, I know. Joe showed them to me." Adam continued, "Well, another group that is under suspicion of being renegades, have also accessed the files just after the incident in Vancouver, along with yours and Richie's. They are presently located here in Paris, France, and seem to be doing some kind of big project." "Which means they are getting ready to start killing," Macleod stated. "Exactly." Adam paused trying to think of something to say, then he decided to satisfy his curiosity. "By any chance, would the friend you are staying with be Nicholas de Brabant?" "Yes, it is." "Damn. I hope you don't get too involved with this, although I believe you already have. They seem to be preparing another attempt at killing them, and this time it seems as though they are planning on killing you as well. Presently they are quartered in an old house just south of Paris. Last night several dark vehicles were seen going to the old mansion, and they had three or four prisoners with them." Macleod realized this was probably Joe, Richie, Tracy and Daniel and asked, "The address of the house is?" Adam recited the address and Macleod said it back assuring it was correct. They hung up and Macleod said, "The house is . . . " He did not get to finish, as Nick said, "We know, we could hear the conversation." Macleod realized this was just another one of their abilities and didn't say anything. It was going to take a little bit to get used to his friend's abilities. He then watched as Nick's anger started to build. He stood up and started pacing the length of the room, his eyes visibly turning amber. By now, both Natalie and Fleur were in the room watching as his anger grew, his anger at the renegades. He was a predator being hunted, and that was very dangerous. Natalie approached him and put a hand on his shoulder to get him to stop pacing, to help calm his anger. He glared at her. So intense that it would have intimidated any living being. Natalie almost backed off but instead tried to take him by the shoulders. He pushed her violently away, hard enough that she hit the wall several meters away, snarled at her, then continued his pacing with an even more determined look on his face. His movements were predatory, and after several minutes Macleod got up, hoping his movement would not cause another violent reaction. He took a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with the red liquid from a bottle in the refrigerator, which he assumed contained blood. He returned to the other room with the glass in one hand, and the bottle in the other. He stood slightly in the path of Nick and waited for him to get to his position. Nick almost didn't notice Macleod, stopping just before running into him. Nick gave the same intense glare to Macleod planning on also giving a snarl, and was greeted with, "Here," and a glass full of blood shoved into one of his hands. At first he just looked at it, then drained it in a matter of seconds. Macleod filled the glass and gave the bottle to Nick. After finishing the entire bottle, he sat down, holding his head in his hands, both the bottle and the glass sitting on the floor at his feet. Natalie again approached Nick, and sat on the couch next to him. This time he allowed her attempt to comfort him and he allowed himself to fall over onto Nat's lap. She caressed his head, muttering soft words to him, and he quietly starred across the room at the wall, his emotions becoming too much for him to handle, his eyes closing. After several minutes she asked him, "Are you all right now?" He did not answer her, but instead stated, "All of this is my fault." "What do you mean? It can't all be your fault. Nick, you didn't cause those men to hate Immortals, you didn't know this was going to happen. How could it be your fault?" "Because of what I am. If you haven't noticed, I seem to attract trouble," he said softly with a slight smile, and slowly drifted off to sleep, his control using up his remaining energy. Natalie looked down at him, afraid of what was going to happen, and what it might do to Nick. Ever since she'd been a vampire, she'd noticed he was acting strangely, and knew that the present events still seemed to be directed toward him, at least partially. She ran her fingers through his hair, hoping that Tracy and the others were all right, not wanting to know what would happen if they weren't. Both she and Macleod fell asleep, the stress of the building situation finally getting to them. At least now they had an address. All they had to do was wait. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Tracy woke up to see a young man with curly blond hair bending over her, making sure she was okay, and another older man sitting behind the first man. She did not know either one of them, but recognized Daniel laying on one of the four cots in the small dimly lighted room. The last thing she remembered was a hand clamping down on her mouth, and being forced into a black car. She had been kidnapped, and the others in the room probably had been as well. Her first words were hoarse, but audible, "Where are we?" The older man answered while handing her a cup of water, "We are in a room on the third floor of an old mansion owned by a group of renegade watchers. They are using the house as a base, and my best guess is that we are bait." "What do you mean, 'renegade watchers'?" Tracy asked not knowing what the term meant, she knew about watchers, but didn't know there were any renegades. "Ordinary watchers, like myself and Daniel, only watch and record. We're historians. The renegade factions believe Immortals are evil creatures that want to dominate the world, and kill them to prevent this from being possible." Suddenly what happened before became crystal clear. She understood why Nick and Fleur were taken and why they were told what they were told. They weren't targeting Nick specifically, just Immortals in general. "I understand know. That's way Daniel didn't do anything, the same way with Miquel and that other one." "Yes, we just watch, well sometimes we become friends like I have with Richie here and Macleod, but we aren't supposed to." "May I ask who you are?" she asked, not knowing what to call him. "I'm sorry. I'm Joe Dawson, and this is Richard Ryan. I'm a Watcher, he's an Immortal. One of Macleod's students." "What is happening?" "I'm not really sure. We haven't been contacted since being brought here. All I know is that it is late afternoon, and that we have been here for about eighteen hours." "Why us? I mean couldn't they have chosen other people?" Tracy asked. "We are all friends of the people they want to kill. They might plan on killing Richie too, but he is also the most effective bait against Macleod." "How did Macleod and you find out about Watchers?" she asked Richie. "Well, we had the same thing that is happening to you, or at least the same kind of situation, and Mac found out about the renegades and the tattoo. This was before I was an Immortal, although I knew about Immortals. Later we found out there were two factions, and that we had come upon the renegade one, just as you have. Joe was the one that explained this to us and made us understand." He paused for a while and then deciding now was as good a time as any to ask, and said, "Did you know that your friend Nick is extremely strong and can hold his breath underwater for almost ten minutes without coming up for oxygen?" Tracy blanched slightly, Nick hadn't been careful enough, and answered, "Yes, he has a lot of amazing abilities." "Yes, we know that, and you know why, don't you?" Joe asked. "Yes, I do." "What causes this?" he questioned, although from her previous statement he wasn't sure he was going to get an answer. "I can't tell you. It would be a betrayal to him, one I can't make." "Okay, but I would like to know later, when this is all over," Dawson stated, then laid down on the cot he was sitting on, waiting for something to happen. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. It was now fully night and all four were awake, getting their nourishment and starting to plan. "How are we going to get into the house without being spotted?" Macleod asked. "Remember, three of us can fly, and they don't know about that. They will be expecting three Immortals." "Okay, when should we try to get in?" Natalie asked. "At about midnight tonight would probably be a good time. And once we get into the house we can locate them from the combination of Richie's presence and by mortal heartbeats," Nick suggested. "Yeah that would probably work." Fleur paused then said, "To get to the house we should probably fly, that way we will not be seen approaching." "Wait a second. You can all fly, but what about me?" Macleod asked. "I can take you with me as long as you don't panic," Nick said with a smile. Macleod was a little uneasy about that, but went along with it anyway, "Okay, then it is decided. What should we do until then?" "Rest, and get lots of nourishment." Everyone agreed, and after having something to eat or drink, they all went to sleep for a while more. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. "What time is it?" Daniel asked from his position on the cot. Joe looked down at his watch and said, "Almost midnight. I'm surprised no one has come in here yet." "What do you think has happened to Nick, Macleod and the others?" Tracy asked. "I mean, they won't just keep us here forever, right?" "No, they won't keep us here forever, but we may not leave here alive," Joe stated grimly. They continued talking for about twenty minutes, and then they heard a distant shot which ceased their conversation. "What was that?" Daniel asked, from his position next to Tracy. "It sounded like a gunshot, and from where we are it sounded like it came from outside, perhaps from the roof," Tracy said. "Yeah, I agree. Perhaps the cavalry has arrived." Dawson then got up and went to the door to listen. Secrets - Part 12/12 Nick and the others landed on the roof, Nick checking out the hole left by the bullet, pleased that it had passed straight through him rather than lodging itself uncomfortably in his shoulder. Since he had become Immortal, he hadn't noticed much difference in his healing capabilities. He healed a little faster, but otherwise it was the same. "I thought you said we wouldn't be seen if we flew!" Macleod softly exclaimed aware that the bullet had nearly hit him, and did hit Nick. "Well, we probably weren't. They most likely thought they were imagining things," Nick said quietly. "Come on, let's get into the house before someone really does spot us." They walked across the roof, and found an entrance into the house, and Nick and Macleod knocked the guards out. They proceeded down the stairs and into the house not seeing anyone else. Suddenly, all but Natalie stopped, sensing the presence of another Immortal nearby. They told Natalie and then continued in the direction they had been going, coming upon a doorway with four fast heartbeats behind it. Nick was just about to break the lock and open the door when the sound of people coming suddenly entered his senses from both right and left. They were going to be trapped. Several men, all dressed in black and carrying guns, grabbed a hold of the four. Nick was just about to break free using his vampiric strength when Natalie whispered for him to wait. Another group of men came and opened the door revealing Tracy, Joe, Richie, and Daniel. They were led in two separate groups to a large room. Each group was stopped several meters from each end of a long table. The situation reminding several of the incident in Vancouver. They were not told to sit, but instead were held at gunpoint. Two men took the swords from the newly arrived Immortals, and then were placed on the table in front of a brown haired man in his middle thirties, next to another sword, Richie's sword. The man then stood up, approaching the group of Immortals, and Natalie. "Well I see you are very resourceful. Especially to get in here without being spotted." He walked around the group, observing their actions, waiting for any kind of movement. He then backed up and told his men, "Take the old man, bring him to the corner, over there." They grabbed Joe and roughly brought him over to the other side of the room, then put two men on him, each with their weapons pointing directly at his chest. "This will be the beginning. First your friends will die, then yourselves." He nodded to his men and they prepared to fire. Nick flew from his position, and knocked one of the men down. He then pushed Joe slightly out of the way, his cane snapping, and then splintering, and took the bullets being fired from the other man's gun. He stumbled but didn't fall, then looked at the man, approached him and was about to break his neck, but instead knocked him out. Most of the other guards were so busy watching this, they weren't ready for the attack from the others. Macleod, Natalie and Fleur took out the other men near them, also knocking them out, then started toward Tracy and the others, but didn't get there soon enough. The remaining men opened fire on the others. Richie stepped in front of Daniel and Tracy trying to prevent the bullets from hitting them, but was unsuccessful, when he was hit, causing him to fall to the ground. Both Daniel and Tracy were hit, falling to the ground themselves. Nick's anger grew and he attacked the nearest guard, throwing him violently away and then started toward the man that gave the order. He was just about to sink his fangs into the man's throat, but stopped, instead throwing him against the wall, and knocking him out. Nick went to Tracy, and took her vital signs. Finding only a slow, weak pulse and shallow breathing, he said, "I'm going to take her to the hospital." He picked her limp form carefully up from the ground and flew off as fast as he possibly could. Richie slowly awoke from 'dying' and looked around to see the room in shambles. He looked and found everyone but Tracy and Nick, and then saw the pool of blood where Tracy had been standing. He saw Fleur helping Joe up and over to the table, and she took one of the swords and gave it to him so he could walk around on his own. He then remembered Nick's face, the feral eyes and the elongated fangs and asked, "Am I the only one that noticed something strange about what just happened?" "No, you're not," came a weak voice from Daniel, now leaning against the wall with Natalie holding a cloth up to the still bleeding entrance wound, glad that she had gotten used to human blood. "What are you?" he said, speaking to Natalie and Fleur. "Yeah, what are you?" Joe asked as he approached the group using Richie's sword in place of his now broken cane. "We're . . . vampires," was the soft response heard from Fleur. "Vampires . . . Another myth to come alive," Joe muttered, not believing what he just heard. "It's true, they really are vampires," Macleod said. "Another type of immortal," Joe said incredulity, and looked around at the mess and asked, "Does anyone have a cell phone?" Natalie pulled her cell phone out and before handing it to him asked, "What do you need it for?" "To call others to get this mess cleaned up," he said waving his free hand about at the room. She gave the cell phone to his open hand and he called and explained the situation. He then closed the pone and as he handed it back, said, "Okay. They'll be here in about thirty minutes, and someone is coming to help you with your shoulder, Daniel." "So, what are we going to do while we wait?" Richie asked as he picked up the swords on the table and gave Macleod his sword and put Nick's where he usually put his own sword. "Well, what do you mean, vampires? Are you like the ones of myths?" Daniel questioned. "Um, well, I think I should let Nick explain everything," Natalie hesitantly said, then looked at Fleur. She nodded in agreement, halting that line of conversation. "Well once they get here, we'll explain exactly what happened, then probably everyone will be able to go. I'll stay here and Daniel will also because of his injury." He paused then realized Tracy had been taken to the hospital. "Hey, what's the closest hospital to here?" Macleod told him, and then when asked what the number was, he told Joe that too. He asked for Natalie's phone again and called the hospital, then asked the nurse, "Do you presently have a patient by the name of Tracy Vachon? She would have just got there a few minutes ago." "Yes, actually we do. She is in the operating room right now." "How is she doing?" "I'm not sure, I haven't gotten a report on what is happening, but from what I can tell it is either simple and relatively easy to take care of, or it is taking intricate surgery." Figuring he wouldn't get any more on that question, he asked, "Is there a man there by the name of Nicholas de Brabant?" "Yes, the man that signed her in goes by that name. Right now he is very impatient, and from what I can tell he took a few bullets himself." "What do you mean from what you can tell?" "He seems to be limping, and he seems to be weaker on his left side. There is blood in several spots and holes in his clothing, but he passes it off as his friend's. He will not allow any doctors near him, at least not after we gave him a sedative earlier, which didn't seem to do a whole lot," the nurse said. "How does he seem to you?" "Right now he's pacing back and forth in the waiting room, clearly very distressed. Earlier I had heard him mutter something about something being his fault." "Damn. Someone will be by shortly." He told the nurse good bye and turned the cell phone off. "Natalie, did you hear everything?" "Yes. Fleur, come on, we need to get to the hospital." "Natalie, we can't. We don't know where the hospital is." "Richie, find a pair of keys, we're going to take them. Joe we're going to have to leave, is that okay?" Macleod asked. "Yeah, but the Watchers might want to talk to you guys later." They nodded, and the four left and found the car the keys belonged to. Twenty minutes later they were at the hospital. They walked into the reception area, and Natalie immediately went to where Nick was. Fleur explained to the Nurse who they were and then the rest entered the room to see Natalie watching Nick pace back and forth, not even knowing they were in the room. He was limping noticeably, and there appeared to be a wound right next to his heart, one that was definitely bleeding. "Nick?" she hesitantly said approaching him. Nothing occurred other than the slowing down of his pace. She again said, "Nick," this time more firmly and while she stepped into his path. He stopped for a moment but did not look up, instead he merely walked around her and continued his pacing. She turned around and forced him to turn around and said, "Nick! Look at me!" This time he did so, and all saw his pure white face and were able to clearly see the wounds from when he was shot earlier. On closer inspection one could see the pain and the anger contained in his face. "Nick, how is Tracy doing?" figuring it was a better question to ask than asking what had happened. "I don't know . . . The doctor hasn't said anything yet," he said with a weak voice. He then turned toward the others and his eyes changed color, glowing with a slight amber light. Nick glared at the other people in the room, his eyes momentarily flashing crimson, then they returned to their normal blue color and he pushed Natalie toward Fleur slightly and walked quickly out of the room. "We have to go after him," Natalie said moving toward the door. "No. Let him sort everything out. We'll be home before dawn, I don't think he could do anything rash before then." "Yeah you're right," Natalie said, still very concerned, but knowing that Fleur was right, they couldn't do anything right then. She then walked back to the nurse and asked, "Do you know how Tracy is doing?" The nurse was about to answer, saying she didn't have any information, but first a doctor came through the door nearby. "Are you a friend of Tracy Vachon's?" he asked Natalie, as she was standing at the desk, in the process of turning around. "Yes, I am. I'm Natalie Chevalier. How is she?" "She'll be just fine. Actually we can release her in a few hours, since you're a doctor." Natalie assumed Tracy told her, and wondered if the doctor knew what her specific profession was, and asked, "What is her condition?" "A bullet grazed her side, and another passed cleanly through her shoulder. Other than being in a little bit of pain for the next week or two, she should be fine as long as she doesn't exert herself too much." "When can we see her?" "In about an hour. Right now she needs to rest." "Okay," she said as the doctor turned to the nurse and then left. Natalie returned to the others and said, "We'll be able to see her in about an hour." They then went and sat down in the waiting room once again. About fifty minutes later, the door opened and Joe and Daniel walked in. Joe now had a cane and Daniel's arm was in a sling. "How is she doing?" Joe asked. "She should be fine. In about five or ten minutes we can see her, and she can be released before dawn." "That's good. Where's Nicholas?" "He left about an hour ago. He probably went back to the apartment." "You may now see your friend in room 109," said the nurse interrupting their conversation, surprising them, it wasn't an hour yet. The group left the reception area and went to room 109 and went in. Tracy was seated, eating some hospital food, and looking much better than she did a couple hours earlier. "Hi, Trace. I see you're feeling better." "Yes, I am. They're going to let me go in an hour." She paused and looked at all of the people in the room and asked, "Where's Nick?" "He went home a little more than an hour ago." "Oh. Well, they said I could get dressed as soon as I had finished eating, and then he'll decide if I can go early or not." "It better be early because if it isn't we'll get burnt pretty badly." As it turned out, she was allowed to leave early and they took the two vehicles they drove to the hospital, to Nick and Natalie's apartment. They arrived seconds before dawn. Immediately, Natalie saw that the shutters were still up and went in search of Nick, beating everyone else to the door. He was found in the main room, with a perfect view of the sunrise. He was sitting on the floor, the remote in his hand, watching as the sun rose from a shady corner. "Nick?" Natalie pleaded, "Are you alright?" After getting no response, she skirted the sun on the floor and knelt in front of him. "Nick? What's wrong?" "I feel like I'm dying." "What do you mean . . . " she asked, not knowing what he was talking about. Then she remembered what the nurse had said about his condition, he must have been injured and didn't say anything. "Half of the bullets fired at me are still inside me. I also have a sliver of wood in the left side of my heart. I don't really know what will happen as a result, but it feels as though I'm dying." "Nick, you know that's not true. Let me take everything out." He looked at her, then hit a button on the remote, closing the shutters. He then lost consciousness and she immediately went to work. She took off his shirt to reveal the end of a piece of wood near his heart, and several bullet holes that had not yet healed. She quickly grabbed her doctor's bag and worked on removing the splinter. Once it was removed, she went through and took out all of the bullets. After she had gotten all of the bullets out, she washed his skin off and gave him a large amount of her blood. She hoped that he was not too far gone when she started. His Immortality should have healed the wounds almost immediately, but they didn't. The splinter must have impaired his immune system. He did not wake for several hours, although he healed within only a few minutes, and when he did, he was not coherent. Nick would mutter things that made no sense, and then after a few minutes, he went back to sleep. At sunset he woke again, this time fully aware of what was happening. He got up and started to pace the room, eventually being forced into a chair by Macleod and Natalie. She told him, "Nick, it's okay. Everything's going to be alright." "How can you be so sure?" "I, I'm not. I just want everything to turnout okay, and I have a feeling it will." Nick nodded, knowing that soon everything would settle back to normal. After several minutes, he told everyone that he wanted to be left alone for a while. Soon after, all but Natalie left, and over the next several weeks only Natalie, Tracy and Fleur saw him. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. Macleod found a letter shoved under his door on the twentieth of December. It was unaddressed and only had his name on it. He carefully opened the envelope, and pulled out a note written in a flowing hand, reading: You are invited to a formal dinner and dance on the 24th of December, beginning at 6:00 pm, ending unannounced, at the de Brabant estate. Please bring your invitation, and a date if you wish. At the end it was signed, Nicolas de Brabant. A knock came from the door and Macleod got up and answered it to reveal Joe. "Hey, Mac. By any chance did you get one of these?" he asked holding up an envelope identical to Macleod's in every way except for the name. "Yeah, I did. You're going aren't you?" "Definitely. Remember he still owes us an explanation." "Yes, he does. But I would still like to see how he is doing, I mean the last time we saw him he wasn't exactly in a good mood, and you can't blame him." At first only a nod was received, his people had done this, and he partially felt responsible. "So, could you give me a ride, since you're going?" Joe asked breaking the silence that had appeared, and then they continued to talk, about what they were going to do and other happenings. Richie also called, telling he got one of the invitations as well. *+.*+.*+.*+.*+. The 24th of December came by quickly, and Macleod, Richie and Joe arrived in Macleod's car a few minutes prior to 6:00. They were escorted into the castle, and taken to a large hall filled with people, most having something to do with the meetings. Richie was just amazed by the elaborateness of the decorations, Joe was also looking around a lot. Macleod was slightly surprised at the good condition of some of the paintings and furniture, some he estimated were probably as old as Nicholas, perhaps older. They looked for their host but were not able to find them. However they did find out where the dinner was being held, and found their assigned seating. It was a large table, there were seats for the three of them, a black man and his wife were sitting on the left of Joe, to the left of them was Daniel, then Tracy and Natalie. After that there were two empty seats, one with Nicolas de Brabant written on it, the other with Fleur's name. A man in his late thirties, stood at the podium, which was very close to the table and said, "Now, let the night begin. Here are your hosts, Nicolas, and Fleur de Brabant." He started out in French, talking about the present status of the meetings then he introduced several of his friends, telling who they were, and then letting the dinner to continue on its own. No one noticed that Nick, Natalie and Fleur weren't eating. Soon after everyone finished the meal, Nick ended the banquet, and then talked about the events of the rest of the evening. After he spoke, Nick disappeared and was next seen carrying several wrapped boxes. Christmas gifts. They were now the only ones in the great hall, and first he gave a long box to Joe Dawson and told him to open it. The box revealed a cane, with a solid gold top shaped like a wolf, containing inlaid gemstones. Richie received a black leather jacket with a hidden space for his sword. He gave Macleod a medallion, with a note explaining he was an honourary member of the Brabant family. His captain got a pair of gemstone cuff links made out of blue sapphires, and a matching tie tack, his wife receiving a necklace with several sapphires of several different colors, which they both put on. Fleur was given a bracelet, one she had lost while she was still a servant at Brabant, one that Nicholas had given to her several years before he had left for the crusades. On the underside she found the engraving of her name, Muriel de Troyes de Brabant. It was the name she had given the Brabant family when she arrived, with the addition of their family name, and brought back many of her memories of that period of her life. Daniel received a small but very detailed gold medallion of the watcher symbol. Tracy opened a small box to reveal a gold and diamond cross, which Nick took out of the box for everyone to see, then despite his aversion to the holy symbol, carefully fastened it around her neck. Nick then took the last box, a small one, and got down on his knees in front of Natalie. He took her hand, and opening the box, placed the gold and diamond ring in it on Natalie's finger, then asked her to marry him. She was so surprised that at first she just sat there, then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, answering in the affirmative. By morning, all of the other guests, mostly high ranking Belgian officials, had gone home and all that were left were Nick and his friends. After entering a large sitting room, one with an old grand piano in it, he was asked by Macleod, "You play the piano, don't you?" After returning with a nod, Macleod asked, "Could you play something for us? Something original?" "Yes," was the soft response as Nick sat down at the grand piano and begun a slow piece then flowed into several others, the tempo gracefully changing from one to another. He played for about two hours, and when he was finished his Captain commented, "I didn't know you played so well." "Yes, well I have since I was a young boy, and I practiced and practiced." At this comment Natalie, and the others that knew what he was, looked at him with knowing smiles, knowing he learned the piano over the period of several centuries. "And everything you played were original compositions?" the Captain again asked. "Yes, although sometimes I will use an idea other composers have used, but that is inevitable anyway." "So you and Natalie are going to finally tie the knot?" Joe Reese asked, a large grin appearing on his face, happy for the two. "Yes, but you can't tell anyone when you get back. We want to make the announcement ourselves, although we are planning to get married while we are here in France." They continued to talk for a couple hours, and then the Captain and his wife went to sleep, after Nick had explained that it would still be several months to both the wedding, and until they returned home. That day, the three vampires, mainly Nick, got to explain about themselves, and Joe agreed not to put anything in the files about vampires because of the enforcers. If he did it would be suicide. They too went to sleep, and the de Brabant castle was silent yet occupied. The day passed and night began, the only sound heard was the strain of piano music as it drifted through the ancient halls. ~fin~ Comments, questions, and suggestions to: