Glenn Ballweber parked his Mercedes beside the #11 warehouse and wondered again what had compelled him to come. Maybe it was the caller’s insistence or maybe just curiosity, but whatever the reason, he was there. The call had come in on his cellular phone just as he was leaving work. The caller had been brief:
"Meet me at warehouse #11 at 11:30 p.m. tonight and I’ll give you all the information you need to get a conviction in the Moratia murder case," and the phone had gone dead.
Glenn knew that it could be a setup, but he also knew it was Friday and the Moratia murder trial would start Monday and he had nothing. He also knew that the partnership board was meeting in less than a month and that if he didn’t get this conviction he didn’t stand a chance.
So, he sat waiting in the warehouse district, after dark, wishing that he was a praying man. After 15 minutes passed he began to wonder if the call had been some kind of hoax.
"Five more minutes and I’m out of here," he said to no one.
Just then a figure appeared coming out of the side entrance of the warehouse. Glenn climbed out of his car and stood waiting expectantly. The figure approached slowly and cautiously.
"Mr. Ballweber?" a man’s voice called timidly.
"Yes," Glenn answered with just a hint of irritation. ‘Who else would be out here at this hour in four hundred dollar shoes?’ he asked himself. "You said you had information for me?"
"I do," the man answered, but didn’t offer anything further. Glenn took a few strides toward his informant whose face was too shadowed to make out. The only light around glinted off of the top of the mysterious stranger’s head.
"Would you like to tell me what you know or should I try to guess?" Glenn asked with more irritation and walked closer. He was now only a few feet away from the man, but still couldn’t make out any facial features.
"Are you anxious to leave?" the man queried.
"What do you think?" Glenn spat sarcastically. This was going nowhere.
"I think you don’t want me to see you change," the man said in a nervous tone.
"Change what?"
"Into your other identity."
"Look pal, I’m a lawyer, not Superman, so if you have something to tell me you’d better do it now or I’m leaving," Glenn stated with conviction.
"It’s a full moon tonight," the man continued and his teeth were chattering more out of nervousness than chill.
"Brilliant." Glenn started ranting and walked back toward his car. "I came all the way out here to find out about a full moon. I thank you for wasting my time."
Just as he finished saying this he heard a loud popping noise and a sharp pain hit his left shoulder. Looking down Glenn discovered a hole in his jacket that soon started to ooze blood. Confused, he turned back toward his assailant who now brandished a large caliber pistol. The reality of the situation hit Glenn at the same time as the next bullet did and he felt himself panic.
"What are you….?" He started to ask and was cut off by the impact of yet another bullet. Reason left him and he ran. Several more shots rang out before the gun stopped firing.
Glenn Ballweber, attorney-at-law, died without ever knowing why.
Adrenaline flooded the murderer’s veins and the shaking only got worse. He tried to reload, but lost the ammunition to the ground. His victim was not moving and he leaned closer to inspect his handiwork. Sightless eyes stared back at him.
"Good, one of those had to have hit your heart," he said softly to the dead man. "You won’t be coming back." With that he ran back to his vehicle and was gone within seconds.
His beeper interrupted Nick Knight's thoughts. He grabbed the phone in relief; he needed the interruption. Nothing could be gained by letting those thoughts continue. Natalie was gone and had been for almost three years. Nick had caught the drunken driver who had run her down and very nearly meted out his own brand of justice. The guy was behind bars now and prayed everyday he would never see Detective Knight again. Nick had stopped grieving for Nat long ago, but he still found himself constantly missing her companionship. Schanke just wouldn't cut it. He didn't know about vampires and that was for the best.
Twenty minutes later Nick arrived at the crime scene he'd been called to. Schanke sauntered over when he saw his partner to give him the details. The victim was a white male in his early 40's. He had been found outside a vacant warehouse by a couple of trespassing boys breaking curfew. The boys, now done vomiting, were being interviewed by another police officer.
"Oh, and we have a new Medical Examiner," Schanke said lifting his eyebrows suggestively. "Her name is Dr. Carpenter."
The ME's office had gone through four doctors so far in an effort to replace Natalie and Nick had no desire to meet the newest. He glanced in the direction of the body and noticed a petite woman leaning over and bagging the hands. Her movements were efficient yet graceful. She tucked a lock of her thick, shoulder length, chestnut colored hair behind her ear and wrote something on her clipboard. Somewhere in the back of his mind Nick thought he felt another vampire near by, but somehow the feeling was different, as if distorted. He realized that he was staring openly at the doctor.
As if she could hear his thoughts the doctor looked up suddenly and caught Nick staring at her. She had never seen him before, but for a moment she thought she had felt another Immortal presence. She was relieved when the feeling faded and pulled her hand back away from her sword hilt. This was not the place for a confrontation and she wasn't in the mood for a sword fight. She continued with her examination.
After a few minutes Nick decided to go introduce himself. The doctor noticed him coming and stood up to face him. She admired his fine features and the elegant way he moved.
"Dr. Carpenter?" he inquired politely. "Detective Nick Knight, Metro Homicide," he continued and offered his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Detective," she replied quietly and took his hand. He guessed her age to be around thirty.
Nick found himself staring at the perfect contrast between her pale skin and dark eyes. Her face was tiny and her eyes filled most of it. The air around them seemed to electrify. For a moment a vision flashed through Nick's mind and he saw himself sinking his fangs into her neck. Her heartbeat pounded in his ears. As quickly as the vision came it went, but left him feeling vulnerable and hungry.
His frank gaze started to make her uncomfortable and after a few seconds she pulled her hand away from his. For just a moment she thought she saw his blue eyes flash gold. It must have been a trick of the streetlights. Her head felt full of static and she wondered if he knew she was an Immortal.
"Don Schanke, Doc," Schanke appeared and cheerfully introduced himself. The doctor smiled and greeted him, grateful for the interruption. "What's it look like?" Schanke asked, referring to the cause of death.
"Because of the cold it's not possible to set an accurate time of death, but judging from rigor mortis if I had to guess I'd say he's been dead for 36 to 48 hours," she said apologetically. "There's no identification on the body, but his clothes are expensive and there is an unidentified Mercedes parked right over there," she continued pointing to the black car in the parking lot. "The cause of death is fairly self-explanatory seeing as he's riddled with bullets. The bullets themselves may interest you though." She handed Schanke a plastic bag with at least 15 strange-looking rounds. "I found these all over the ground near the body."
"Silver bullets?" Schanke asked with his brow furrowed. The doctor nodded. Nick looked thoughtful.
"Someone hunting werewolves?" Schanke cracked himself up. The doctor looked pained and shook her head.
"From the number of holes in the body this 'someone' is a relatively good, but not very steady shot," she said thoughtfully, "and judging from the number of bullets spilled on the ground he's also not very careful."
"Great, so we have a butter-fingered, nut-case who thinks he's the Lone Ranger," Schanke sarcastically spat. "Hi-ho Silver away," he continued as he walked back toward the other officers leaving her alone with Nick. Immediately she was uncomfortable again.
"I'll give you a full report after I've had a chance to take a closer look," she blurted out a little too quickly and hugged herself for warmth. It was freezing and having a piece of metal hanging down the back of her sweater didn't help.
"Thank you, Doctor," Knight said and with great effort turned to join his partner.
She watched him walked away and then kept one eye on him as she supervised the removal of the body. 'So, that’s Nick Knight. No wonder Natty talked so much about him. He's beautiful, but with a touch of creepy.' Then, as if to clear the cobwebs, she gave her head a violent shaking and walked to her car. If she had turned around she would've seen Nick watching her again.
"Got a nice view there, partner?" Schanke asked amused. Nick gave his partner a pained smile, but didn't dignify the question. They climbed into his Cadillac and Nick started the engine.
"You know Nick, it's okay to be interested in her," Schanke said suddenly.
Nick looked impatient and replied quickly, "Drop it please, Schanke."
His partner just shook his head. "Nat's been gone a long time now. It's not a crime to move on or at least look occasionally."
Nick rubbed his temples and didn't reply. Truthfully he was feeling a bit confused about the whole evening. He hadn't looked twice at another woman since Natalie's death, but tonight he'd taken a second, third and fourth look at the new doctor.
"I know you, buddy. You can't tell me that you weren't attracted to her. For a second there I thought you were going to eat her alive," Schanke stated with a grin.
"The thought had crossed my mind," Nick mumbled under his breath.
Arriving at the station Nick muttered something about a call of nature, but instead went to his locker; he was hungry. He unstopped the bottle he found there and drank greedily. After a few seconds he forced himself to stop and put the bottle back in the small cooler he kept in his locker. He closed his eyes and felt the liquid running through his system. As enjoyable as the sensation was it was shortly followed by overwhelming guilt, and Nick hung his head in shame. Why after all this time was he not able to get this under control? In frustration he slammed his fist into the locker door and was rewarded with the pain he was sure he deserved for his lack of control.
A few hours later Dr. Jillian Carpenter was just finishing up the autopsy when Nick and Schanke entered the building. Once again she felt the presence of an Immortal right before Nick entered the room. It was unnerving and she gave an involuntary shudder. Why did he have this effect on her?
"Hiya, Doc," Schanke greeted her.
Nick moved quickly to help her push the body back into the refrigerator and their hands brushed. "So anything new?" he inquired lightly, trying to mask his uneasiness. He noticed how she had tensed up when their hands touched.
"Well, his name is Glenn Ballweber and he was a very expensive lawyer. He has a total of 10 wounds, and all the slugs I found in him are silver. The killer must have had to reload and maybe that's when he spilled the bullets. The victim was shot at close range a few times, but most of the bullet wounds indicate some distance. Two actually entered the heart, but there were several that just grazed or landed in soft tissue with little damage. He must have been running away because there were several slugs that entered from behind including one of them that went through his heart. All in all I'd say we had one determined killer."
"Why do you think he used silver bullets?" Nick asked.
"The only reason I can think of is that they are supposed to by truer to the mark," she replied. "The only other explanation would be Schanke's theory about werewolves." Her eyes held the hint of a twinkle and she almost smiled. Nick gave her a crooked smile. She started to relax a little. He couldn't be too bad if Natalie had liked him so much.
"Were there any prints on the bullets?" Schanke inquired picking one up off the table for closer inspection.
"None," the doctor answered. She picked another of the bullets up and offered it to Nick. Involuntarily he recoiled from the silver and ended up falling clumsily over the stool behind him. Looking up from his sprawled position on the floor Nick saw his partner trying hard to hide his laughter and the doctor's face creased with concern. Schanke offered his hand, which Nick took gratefully.
"Been walking long, pal?" Schanke chided with amusement. "If you have an aversion to bullets you’re in the wrong business."
"Sorry," Nick muttered, but offered no explanation.
"Are you all right?" the doctor asked, cocking her head and chewing on her lip.
"Fine," Nick said too quickly. He was a little embarrassed.
"I'm gonna run down the hall and use the little boys’ room. You two be good while I'm gone," Schanke told them suddenly and winked at Nick. Nick gave him a withering look.
"So, Doctor…" Nick began and turned to face her.
"Please call me Jillian."
"Jillian then, please call me Nick," he said with a smile. "Or perhaps Klutz would be more fitting."
Jillian smiled what Nick thought was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. ‘Stunning,’ Nick thought and hoped it hadn’t slipped out of his mouth.
"How are you adjusting here?" he asked after a moment.
"I'm okay I guess," she replied thoughtfully. "It's strange being here as a replacement for Natty though."
"You knew Natalie?" He queried curiously and leaned up against one of the autopsy tables.
"We were roommates in med school," she informed sadly. "Since graduation we only talked once or twice a year, but we managed to stay close."
"I didn't know that you were friends. Wait, are you Jilly?"
The doctor smiled and nodded. "I always hated being called that. Only she could get away with it."
"She mentioned you a few times and I've been keeping something for you. In her will Nat gave strict instructions that you were to have a key. I think it must be to a safe-deposit box," Nick stated quickly. "I'll bring it by later, it's at my loft."
"Thank you." Her voice had a slightly husky quality that Nick found delightfully disturbing.
"I got the feeling she considered you her confidant. I can't imagine what you're going through." His voice was very deep and tender.
"I miss her. It had to be harder on you than me though. I know that you were good friends, she talked about you when we spoke. And you spent a lot more time with her than I did recently."
"I miss her every day," he replied with sincerity. Schanke re-entered the room and noticing that they were in deep conversation he smiled. 'Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match,' he thought to himself proudly and cleared his throat loudly.
"Ready to go, partner?" Schanke asked.
"Yeah, Schanke," Nick replied although he really didn't want to leave. "It was a pleasure talking to you, Jillian. If we can help you with anything please call." He almost leaned over and kissed her on the cheek like he would've done to Nat, but caught himself. He followed his partner to the door and glanced back over his shoulder. What he saw made him furrow his brow; she leaned against the refrigerator, and hugging herself sighed deeply.
"I'm a wreck," she told herself sardonically. "What's wrong with me?" She felt emotionally spent and was having a hard time identifying whether it was from talking about Natalie or the fact that she had been talking closely with Nick. "I'm not going to fall for Nick Knight," she stated firmly for the corpses and continued her interrupted work.
Nick smiled as he unlocked his car for his partner. Even though Schanke was talking non-stop Nick wasn't listening to him at all. Through the use of his elevated hearing he had eavesdropped on the doctor's comments to herself. He had to fight to keep himself from grinning like an idiot at what he overheard.
"Score one for Nick Knight," Schanke said as Nick refocused on his partner's prattle. "She was definitely digging you, buddy. Do I know women or what?" He was looking very smug and the look continued all the way back to the station.
Captain Cohen met them outside her office. "What have you detectives got on the Ballweber shooting?"
"Not too much yet, Captain," Nick started. "We know that he was an expensive lawyer, but from talking to his associates we gather that he was generally well-liked."
"Well, he had at least one enemy for sure," she said dryly. "What about the bullets?"
"There are 17 ammunition stores in Toronto alone," Schanke said. "We've started making phone calls, but it could take awhile to find the right one. But we'll find it, Cap, don't worry. With Knight and Schanke on the case…"
"Spare me the pep talk, Schanke," the Captain interrupted. "Just let me know when you've got something." With that she walked back into her office and slammed the door.
Nick spent the rest of the night making phone calls to no avail. All the ammunition stores that sold silver bullets hadn't sold any in months. Still he and Schanke would have to check out every person who had bought the specialized bullets in the last few years. It would take time.
At the end of his shift Nick returned to his loft to retrieve the key he'd promised the doctor. Silently he wondered what it was that Nat had locked away for her friend. Somewhere inside he felt uneasy. When he returned to the ME's office Jillian was nowhere to be found so he left the key in an envelope on her chair and headed home. Why was he so disappointed to miss her?
Jillian finished up her report on the Ballweber autopsy and went home taking with her the key Nick had left. Knowing that he would be back later that evening she had deliberately stayed away from her office. She was glad to find the key and no Nick Knight when she returned from her errands.
Her range style home was spacious yet the low ceilings led to the feeling of snugness. The bedrooms were generous, but the real selling point had been the kitchen. The previous owner had been a gourmet chef and had designed the kitchen himself with extra counter space. Dr. Jillian Carpenter loved to cook. After a quick shower she wrapped herself in her light robe and went to make dinner. She turned the radio on and grabbed the stir-fry ingredients from the fridge. As she started chopping vegetables and slicing meat into the wok she smiled to herself remembering trying to teach Natalie to cook. Nat, always preferring the microwave to the stovetop, had appreciated Jilly's flair in the kitchen and generously volunteered to be the taster.
Later she was relaxing on the couch with a cup of tea. Her eyes stared unfocused into the fireplace. Her thoughts were on the events of the day. She wondered what had struck her as being so odd about Detective Knight. Looking back on their conversations she knew she had felt drawn to him instantly, but somehow she felt the need to run whenever he was near. He had been perfectly cordial and even sympathetic when they talked about Natalie, but Jillian couldn't rid herself of the feeling that he was somehow connected to the Immortals. It occurred to her that he might be a pre-Immortal. Although there really wasn't any safe way to confirm her theory, it would explain the buzz she always felt when he was around.
She was transfixed by the voice that sang from the radio:
"We walk the loneliest mile
We smile without any style
We kiss altogether wrong, no intention
We lie about each other's strengths
We live without each other thinking
What anyone would do
Without me and you
It's like I told you
Only the lonely can play"
Why were tears suddenly coursing down her cheeks?
"So hold on, here we go
Hold on to nothing we know
I feel so lonely way up here
You mention the time we were together
So long ago
Well I don't remember
All I know is it makes me feel good now
It's like I told you
Only the lonely can play
Only the lonely
Only the lonely can play"*
She wiped the tears away fiercely with the back of her hand. "You’re a wreck," she told herself and headed for the bedroom.
A pair of golden eyes glowed in the dark. Nick stood on Jillian back porch like a dark peeping tom. He heard clearly the song she was listening to, but didn't understand her tears. Neither did he understand what he was doing there spying on her. It was nearly dawn and normally he would be safe at home with the blinds drawn. What was he doing here?
The spell was broken when she moved from the couch and with a last look he flew into the gathering dawn. He arrived at his building just as the sun shot it's first rays of light at him. Slamming the door to shut out the searing heat, he tried to control his breathing.
After a terrible five hours of sleep Jillian decided it would be better to get up than to put up with the strange dreams that haunted her. Why did she feel like she was being watched? She shook her head and donned her robe.
After eating a few bites of scrambled eggs and toast she showered and dressed and then went in search of the bank where Natalie had kept her safety deposit box. In the back of her mind she worried that she wouldn't be allowed access to the box, but when she identified herself the clerk she was shown a large box without incident. When the clerk left Jillian opened the box and removed all of the contents. There seemed to be quite a few disks and several thick notebooks filled with Natalie's handwriting. Jillian decided that going to the office was a better idea than going home even though it was her day off.
There were several messages in her box and after picking them up she logged in on her computer. After organizing the disks she found one that was marked in bold type: Disk 1 INTRODUCTION TO RESEARCH. Jillian slipped the disk into the drive and was presented with a request for a password. Not knowing the password she flipped open what seemed to be the first notebook and scanned the inside flap for a clue. The note she found was again from Nat:
Jilly,
Remember med school and you'll figure out the password.
Natty
Jillian smiled and typed the word CADAVER. It was the password everyone in their particular specialty used as a joke in med school. Immediately she was presented with an introductory screen which read:
"For Dr. Jillian Carpenter's eyes only:
"Jilly,
"If you're reading this I must be dead or I've disappeared. The following disks are filled with my notes and journals on some specialized research I was doing for a friend. Each week I add any new information. What is stored here constitutes four years of my life. This may be hard for you to hear, but you're the only one I trust with this information. What you do with it is up to you, but please remember I trust you.
"In 1993 I met a man and learned that some of the nightmares we have as children really do exist. Do you remember me asking you a few years ago if you believed in vampires? I didn't believe in them either until one came into my life.
"Jilly, please believe that I'm not crazy, vampires are real. You must believe this or at least be willing to accept it before you look further."
Jillian leaned closer to the screen. She had been around too long and had seen too much to be foolish enough to believe that hers was the only sub-human race. She read on.
"In case you haven't figured it out by now, the man/vampire I know is Nick Knight."
"That explains what that touch of creepy is," she murmured and kept reading. Her breathing became very shallow.
"His real name is Nicolas De Brabant and he became a vampire in 1228. Nick doesn't like what he is and wants to be human again. That's where I came in. I've been researching this for years and the disks you now possess contain everything I've found so far. If I am dead there is no one to continue this research except you.
"You must know that if other vampires find out that you know about them your life will be in danger. I'm sorry to do this to you, but you're the only one I could trust with my biggest secret."
"You were right to tell me," Jillian murmured to her dead friend. "Thanks for trusting me."
The afternoon changed quickly to dusk as the doctor pored over her friend's notes and explored disk after disk. For the first time in a long time her mind seemed to come alive with the prospect of this challenge. She wanted to tell Nick that she knew about him and would consider it an honor to continue the research, but wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Also she knew it was his day off and that she wouldn't be likely to see him that evening.
Even as she was thinking this she suddenly felt his familiar presence. She knew now the reason she could feel him; he was as immortal as she was, just not of the same race.
Nick entered the room and when he spotted her he strode briskly over to where she sat. Jillian didn't say anything and didn't try to hide the notes or what was on the computer screen. Their eyes met as he approached her desk. His greeting died on his lips as his eyes moved to lock on the notebooks and disks. It suddenly occurred to him what Natalie had left in that safe deposit box. He came to stand behind Jillian and read the screen in front of her:
SUBJECT: NICOLAS DE BRABANT/VAMPIRE
If his heart had not been silenced so long ago it would've been pounding now. His thoughts were racing as to how to explain this. Hypnosis was always an option.
Jillian didn't turn to him right away, but waited a few more seconds before looking up at him. Their eyes met again and somehow the softness and wonder in hers told him he had nothing to fear. He relaxed a little, but still found he had nothing to say.
"Nick," she started after a long moment, "you can trust me." ‘Because you and I are more alike then you may ever know,’ she thought to herself.
Nick looked at her once again and found that her eyes held no fear. Slowly he pulled another chair over and sat beside her. They talked well into the night, Nick explained what he knew about Natalie’s research.
Later that night after they had both gone home Nick would spend hours just thinking about Jillian. He found himself lost in remembering the soothing tones of her voice and the odd habit she had of chewing on her lip when she was concentrating. At one point in the evening they had both reached to grab an ejecting disk and their hands collided. This time, Nick noticed, she hadn’t pulled away. He smiled to himself and then made a mental note to get a haircut.
Jillian, Nick and Schanke met over another body less than a week later. The detectives were no closer to solving the first silver bullet murder when they had been called to the second such murder scene. Now another week had passed and with the third body laying before them they patiently waited for the doctor to finish her preliminary report.
"Silver bullets again," the doctor pointed out pointing out a discarded shell. "His aim was truer this time though. There are only five shots altogether three of which penetrated the chest cavity. The victim’s wallet was still on him; he’s a stockbroker named Frank Longley."
"Steadiness of shot suggests that he wasn’t as nervous this time," Nick observed. "Perhaps he’s getting used to it. That might make him more dangerous, but easier to catch. Those that get used to murder tend to make mistakes."
‘Did you ever get used to murder, Nick?’ Jillian wanted to ask, but didn’t. ‘Have I?’ She didn’t really want an answer.
"A lawyer, a politician and now a stockbroker," Schanke said recounting the victims. "Maybe the killer has something against blood suckers."
Jillian bit her lip trying not to laugh and Nick quickly looked away. Neither could look at each other for a few long moments. Schanke walked off toward where Captain Cohen was standing.
"If he’s right, let’s hope the killer doesn’t find out about me," Nick said under his breath. Jillian nearly burst into laughter. In the few short weeks that she had known him she had discovered that he had a not surprisingly dark sense of humor which he used in a self-deprecating way at every opportunity.
Sharp ears had overheard the doctor and detective’s exchange. The man had observed the odd detective in the past, but now watched him closely. Was he also a potential target? The man would have to do some research on Nick Knight.
Jillian found herself more and more drawn to Nick with each passing day and fascinated by what he was. Natalie’s penchant toward perfectionism made Jillian’s trip through the research easy. Everything was meticulously organized and whatever gaps there were Nick was willing to fill in. He usually joined her at her office on his days off, but she never invited him to her home.
"Nick?" Jillian asked cautiously from where she sat going over her latest autopsy report. He was waiting for her to finish so that they could continue their special work.
"Yep?"
"I’ve wanted to ask you something for a while now and it’s okay if you say ‘no’…," she was talking way too fast.
"Jill, it’s okay. I’ve wanted to ask you something for a while now too, but you first."
"Could I see your fangs?" she asked softly and then quickly added, "Call it the nature of the doctor, but I’m just curious." When she saw Nick look at her sideways she rushed on, "Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked." And with that she turned back to the computer and absently started hitting the down arrow. She was clearly angry at herself for being so nosy.
Nick noticed her stiff movements and decided he’d come to her rescue.
"Jill," he said suddenly next to her.
When she looked up in surprise at his closeness her eyes fell upon his mouth. He drew his lips back and bared his gleaming white fangs for her inspection. Curiosity took the place of fear and she squinted to see what she had asked for.
She grabbed the desk lamp and positioned it to cast the light fully on his mouth. From where she sat he was just few inches above her. Slowly, thinking he’d protest she moved her hand to touch the elongated teeth. He didn’t move at all, just watched her face. She noticed how sharp they were and was careful not to slice herself. Not only did she not want to expose him to human blood she also didn’t want him to see her heal in front of his eyes. He shivered as she ran her fingers along his sensitive fang and she withdrew her hand quickly.
"Does it hurt?" She asked distressed.
"Not at all," Nick replied concentrating on letting his fangs recede. "There are just more nerves in them than normal teeth and it makes them very sensitive to touch."
"Hmm," was all she had to say. Her analytical mind was racing with this new information. After a few moments she suddenly remembered what he had said earlier. "What was it that you wanted to ask me?"
"I wanted to know if would you like to have dinner sometime?" Nick asked trying to sound confident. In truth he really wanted to spend time with her and he hoped desperately that the feelings were mutual.
"You don't eat, Nick," she answered avoiding the question. Suddenly her heart was racing. This was not what she needed right now.
"But you could and I . . . um . . . could watch," he said sounding more chipper than he felt. "Look, Jillian, I just want to get to know you," he continued opting for honesty. "I haven’t had someone to talk to in a long time and for some reason I feel very drawn to you. I don’t know if that’s because of the Natalie connection or because you know about me, but the truth is I want to be near you."
Jillian opened her mouth to say something, but then changed her mind and looked at the floor. 'I don't want you to know me,' she thought despairingly. ‘If you knew what I was you wouldn’t want to know me anymore.’
"Nick, I don't really know how to answer," she replied sadly. "I don't think being together outside of work is a good idea. I'm sorry."
"Can I ask why?" He asked feeling hurt. "Is it because of what I am?"
"No, Nick, what you are makes no difference to me. I’m just not looking for that kind of relationship right now. Can't we just continue to get to know each other the way we have been?" she asked feeling like a heel.
"Sure," Nick answered quickly and without feeling. He wanted to run out like a sobbing teenager. "I'd better go," he continued and started toward the door.
"Nick?" She called after him. He turned back toward her, but didn't look her in the eye. "I'm sorry," she said not knowing what else to say. He nodded and was gone. Jillian took the opportunity to slam her fist on the metal table in front of her. She knew she'd fractured a few bones, but also knew they would mend long before the pain she felt in her heart would.
Jillian went to bed early, feeling depressed. She didn’t want to hurt Nick, but if she couldn’t tell him the truth about what she was how could there be any relationship. It was not quite one am when she fell into a deep slumber.
Nick waited until her breathing deepened before approaching her bed. She lay there on her back with her face turned to the side. He had been there many nights over the past few weeks. He couldn’t explain his fascination with her other than her physical beauty, but nonetheless he was compelled to her home nearly every night. With almost no sound at all he knelt down beside her bed and breathed in her scent. She smelled like gardenias.
Absently his hand when to brush away a stray piece of hair from across her eyelid. Instantly her eyes flew open and she reached for the lamp on her night stand. The light flooded the darkened room.
The room was empty.
Dr. Jillian Carpenter, Immortal, sat shivering in her bed afraid to climb down. The nightmares of boogie men under the bed she had had as a child came to haunt her again and kept her frozen in place. Even the presence of her sword next to her didn’t help sleep return. There would be no more sleep that night. When morning came she finally felt safe enough to begin a search of her house. Her sword entered each room first and each revealed nothing and no one.
"I’m going out of my mind," she said shaking her head.
Nick didn’t visit the doctor that night, he was too ashamed of what he had done the night before. It was only his incredible speed that kept her from knowing he was in her room and he was feeling an amazing amount of guilt. He knew she wouldn’t have slept after that and that just added to his shame.
"If I had a wooden stake right now…" he didn’t finish the sentence. Even now from his perch atop the ME’s office building he knew he’d follow her again.
As she exited her office building Jillian felt the buzz of another Immortal nearby. Instantly she knew it was not Nick and her hand went to her sword hilt. She followed the feeling around the corner of the building and into the dark alley behind. The stranger stood waiting expectantly.
"I’m Karrington," he called to her briefly.
Jillian nodded to him in return and raised her blade. "I don’t want to fight you," she said with a tremble.
"Fine, it will be much easier that way," he replied with a wicked smile.
"I said I don’t want to fight you, I didn’t say that I wouldn’t," she stated the tremble gone and raised her blade.
The fight was brief. Overconfidence led Karrington to make a fatal mistake just minutes after the duel began and Jillian, never having been one to stretch a fight out, took the opportunity.
Even before the last sparks of the Quickening were through Jillian forced herself to her feet. Her nose was already bleeding as it always did after a Quickening and she wondered for the thousandth time if all Immortals had nosebleeds as a result of the power transfer. She stumbled for a few yards before getting her bearings and then after sheathing her bloodied sword she started running. Her car was nearby and she drove like a madwoman to her house. Standing over the fireplace she stripped off her soiled and torn sweater and tossed it into the blaze. She tossed the rest of her clothing that was salvageable into the washer, dumped an undetermined amount of soap in and turned it on. Her next step was to rinse her sword.
Walking into the bathroom she looked in the mirror and realized that she had blood spray on her face and neck. With a sob she turned the water on in her shower and got in without even checking the temperature. The blazingly hot water scalded her skin, but she didn't care. Her wounds were nearly healed and the dried blood quickly liquefied and disappeared down the drain, but still she let the water run over her. Her tears mixed with the water as she held her face under the hot stream. She lathered herself up from head to toe frantically trying to wash the guilt off with the blood. It didn't work. No amount of soap would wash the bloodstains from her hands. Sitting on the tiled floor of the shower she didn't even notice when the spray turned cold. Eventually she turned the water off and dried herself. Glancing in the mirror she could still see the blood on her face. Her hand went to her cheek and she stared for long minutes.
"It's not there anymore, it's all in your head," she told herself vehemently and donned a thick robe.
Sitting on the couch she started polishing her blade. Suddenly she felt a presence and spun around to face the uninvited visitor. Nick stood unafraid with the tip of her blade at his chest. She sighed, fell back against the cushions and felt her heart move out of her throat. He came to stand a few feet away from her and leaned against the fireplace. His eyes watched her, but he didn't say a word. He didn't know what to say.
He had observed her leaving the ME’s office and had followed her thinking she was in trouble. When her saw her remove a sword from her long trenchcoat he had stopped short from what he thought would be a rescue. He had watched with fascination what had occurred and now needed an explanation.
She was the first to break the silence. "You saw didn't you?"
He gave an almost imperceptible nod. "What are you?" She could hear the horror in his voice. She wanted to laugh out loud at the irony that a vampire would be horrified by her.
"An Immortal," she said softly, "an addict," then in a voice barely above a whisper, "a monster."
"You're immortal?" he asked, dazed. "But you're not a vampire."
"Vampires aren't the only immortals in the world, Nick," she stated simply brushing her wet hair back from her face. "Sit, Nick," she ordered indicating the chair across from her. Nick sat, but then noticing the ever brightening sky he stood again.
"The sun will be up soon, I have to go," he stated.
Jillian rose from the couch and walked to the windows. She drew the heavy curtains across and then went back to sit near Nick.
"Please stay," she pleaded quietly. "You've trusted me with your secret and now I'd like to tell you mine." Nick looked her directly in the eyes and understanding the need for a sympathetic ear removed his coat and sat on the opposite end of the couch from her; still not too close.
"I come from a race of Immortals that have been around as long or perhaps longer than vampires. Those of my race age until their first death and then awaken Immortal. I died for the first time at the age of 28. The only way to permanently kill those of my kind is by taking their head."
"What about the lightning?" he asked after a few moments of astonished silence.
"What you saw tonight is called the Quickening, it happens when one Immortal takes another Immortal's head. A transfer of power occurs in the form of a small storm. That's what we live for; you take a head, you grow stronger. In the end there will be only one left and the object of our particular Game is to be that last one."
"How long have you been immortal?" Nick asked.
"I became Immortal in the year 1266. My birthday is next month, and I will be 760 years old," she replied blandly.
"You're a little younger than I am," he murmured absently. "How did you find out that you were immortal?"
"I committed suicide, but it didn't take," she replied honestly and gave him a smile that never reached her eyes. Then, staring into the fire, she began a discourse devoid of emotion.
"My husband of ten years took another wife because I couldn't give him children. That's another thing about Immortals, we can’t have children. I loved my husband, but it was his right back then to find a wife that could give him an heir. He kept me for a while, but when his second wife became pregnant it was clear that I was the barren one and I became just another mouth to feed. The love he had once had for me quickly turned to anger until he couldn't stand the sight of me. I begged him not to throw me away, but it didn't matter; he threw me out and ordered his servants to kill me if I came back. I ran out of our village and into the forest. I didn't stop for food or water or even when my feet became so blistered and bloodied that I couldn't take a step without severe pain. Finally I came to a canyon with a river and without stopping I stumbled up to the edge and threw myself over. On the way down I remember thinking how when I landed all my pain would finally be gone. I don't remember hitting the ground, I just remember the relief of freedom." She paused, remembering, then continued. Nick found he was hypnotized by the sound of her voice and hung on every word.
"Imagine my surprise when I woke up. I hurt everywhere, but slowly as the pain started to recede I realized that I wasn't going to die. I remember screaming out of sheer frustration at whatever power it was that was keeping me alive. So naturally I tried again. This time I jumped into the river. I didn't swim well and the water was high and I drowned within a few minutes. When I woke up this time I was tangled in some overhanging branches and covered in mud. I fought myself free and climbed out onto the shore. This time I decided that I'd try cutting myself. I found a very sharp rock and plunged it into my wrist. What I saw changed everything for me." As she was explaining this part she slowly drew her sword across her palm. Nick leaped out of the chair to help her. The deep wound oozed great drops of blood, but when she wiped the blood away Nick froze. He watched with fascination as the bleeding stopped almost instantly. Small sparks flew between the sides of the cut and within seconds there was no trace of even a scar. The acrid smell of warm blood was almost overpowering and Nick leaned back in the chair once again.
"Sitting there, covered in mud on the side of the raging river I realized that death was not going to come. I got up and started following the river. I lost track of the days and when I finally stumbled upon a small convent I collapsed completely. The nuns took me in and cared for me and never asked how I had come to be with them. They taught me to read and write. I never let go of my past though and still had no idea of why I didn't seem able to die."
There was an extended pause and Nick could almost visualize her thoughts.
"One day a man came to the convent looking for shelter and I seemed to get a headache every time he came near. His name was Ramirez and he explained everything to me about Immortals and told me I needed to come away with him. I left the convent and stayed under his tutelage for nearly five years while he taught me everything I needed to know to survive in the Game. However, I never told him anything about my past and he didn’t ask."
"After I left Ramirez I made a beeline for my former village. I was driven to see what had happened since my 'death.' I wanted to know that I was missed," she paused in her reverie. Her eyebrows were knit together as she remembered the pain and she was no longer aware of Nick's presence in the room. There was no sound save the ticking of the clock on the mantel. Untold minutes passed before she resumed her narrative.
"I managed to make it to my husbands property without anyone in the village recognizing me. I remember coming through the trees surrounding his home and hiding where I could see him, but he couldn't see me. He was sitting in the dust reading to a small child who sat in his lap. My husband looked ten years younger and happy. My heart turned to stone as I realized that he had a better life without me. A few minutes later his wife came out of the house to take the child inside. She was quite obviously pregnant again. It was getting dark and cold, but I didn't feel anything. My husband stayed outside looking into the night and I wondered if he had ever given me a second thought. I had to find out so I came out of my hiding place and made my way to where he sat. His eyes were closed and I walked quietly so he didn't see me until I was just a few feet away from him. When he recognized me he just shook his head and rolled his eyes. He told me he had hoped that I was dead by now and something inside me snapped. I don't think he realized that I was about to kill him until my sword was sticking out of his chest. He had the most amazed look on his face as he died. His wife came out of the house just as I was pulling my blade out of her husband and started screaming. My last words to her were 'All he ever wanted was a son and he was willing to throw me away to get one. Now his son will want for a father and I will never be forgotten,' and I walked away into the night."
She turned toward Nick and found him staring wide-eyed at her. Shame was written all over her face and her eyes were misty with tears.
"I wanted revenge and I took it and I've thought about it everyday since. So now you know what I mean when I say I'm a monster. What I did and continue to do cannot be explained away or forgiven," she said with honesty ringing in her voice. "And it’s not for food either. Compared to what I do killing for food seems almost noble. I kill for power, because each Quickening makes me stronger. It’s like a drug. I don’t want to fight, but I can’t help it. That is the true definition of monster."
For a moment after she stopped speaking Nick continued to watch her closely. Then he rubbed his temples and something akin to a chuckle escaped his lips. She looked at him in surprise.
"Quite a pair, aren’t we?" he commented in an amused tone. "So this is why you haven’t wanted to get close to me?"
She nodded.
"You were afraid that I would be revolted or disgusted by what you are?" Nick asked.
She nodded again.
"You can’t accept or forgive yourself so I shouldn’t be able to?" he pressed on.
This time she looked him straight in the eye.
"That’s stupid," he stated bluntly. "You accept my faults, I accept yours. That’s how friendship works."
Jillian was staring at him now in disbelief.
"And we are friends Jill Carpenter, whether you like it or not. I’m not going anywhere. We need each other. Who else would believe in vampires and Immortals? We’re unique," he continued giving her the same crooked smile he’d given her the first night they met.
Suddenly discovered tears streaming down her face and for the first time in nearly 800 years she didn’t feel lonely.
The investigation of the silver bullet murders had had a few lucky breaks. First a partial fingerprint was pulled from one of the bullets in the third victim. Second a short balding man was seen running away from the scene of the fourth murder. After a short chase the man had disappeared, but a few clues were better than none.
Knight and Schanke spent their shifts going over lists of silver bullet buyers and had interviewed over a dozen potential suspects. The bullets had become suddenly popular and the list grew daily. Knowing that the actual murderer might take the opportunity to restock, Nick and his partner made sure to scan the lists for repeat buyer.
Nick looked at his list of repeaters and saw five names:
Karen Sosa
Patrick Burbank
Thad Kendall
Charles Demmert
Kurt Fading
Then it occurred to Nick, Thad Kendall was one of Jillian’s assistants.
"It’s Thad’s day off, Nick. What’s this all about?" Jillian asked with concern and bit her lip. Nick had burst into her office without explanation and demanded to see her assistant.
"I need to see anything you have on him; medical records, employment records, anything," Nick stated briskly.
"I can pull up his medical records, Nick, but it’s an invasion of privacy without probable cause."
"Don’t worry, I have a warrant."
Jillian didn’t even ask. She went to her computer and pulled up the medical history for Thad Kendall. Nick offered no information on what they were looking for, but Jillian spotted it right away.
"Nick, Thad and his wife were attacked by a pack of wolves in 1996 while backpacking in the Northern Territories. He survived, but his wife didn’t."
Nick looked at Jillian and then back to the computer screen.
"Looks like we’ve found our man," he murmured and walked out the door.
Jillian looked after him and then back to her screen. Thad Kendall had been hired just a few weeks before her and had been an excellent assistant. He was always on time and knew his job well. Something was nagging her though, something he had asked just a few days ago. He had asked about Nick! That’s what it was, he had asked about her friend Detective Knight.
Jillian leaped up from her chair and ran out the door without shutting off her computer. She had to let Nick know that he might be in trouble.
A few minutes later Thad Kendall came striding in looking for Jillian. He needed to request a few days off and since she was his direct supervisor he wanted to check the days out with her first. When he realized the doctor was not in he went to her desk to leave her a quick note.
When he saw his name and medical history on the computer screen panic started to rise in his throat. They knew! He started to shake and ran out into the night.
An APB was posted that night, but Thad Kendall had disappeared. His apartment and his car were watched closely, but appeared to have been abandoned. It was as if he knew he was being hunted.
Evidently his wife’s death had left him mentally unhinged and now he was stalking anyone who had ever been bitten by a wolf. Having access to medical records made it easy for him to find targets. Jillian discovered that each of the victims had been treated for bite wounds, but not necessarily from wolves. Apparently somewhere the line had grayed and he had broadened his target base. Victim number four had been bitten by a dog.
Arriving at his loft Nick got out of his Caddie, walked around the car and opened Jillian's door for her. They had been to a concert and then had gone for a pre-dawn stroll along the waterfront. It was her birthday and after all one doesn’t turn 760 everyday.
Before Jillian could step out Nick looked stunned and his body slammed into the car. At the same time a loud bang could be heard and a voice called, "Two for the price of one!"
Nick dove to the ground and Jillian tried to pull the door closed to protect them both. Several more bullets hit him before he could pull himself around to the other side of the car. Jillian felt sharp pain as one bullet hit her shoulder and another her right leg. Her wounds were not fatal. Nick managed to pull out his gun and fire several times at the unknown assailant before collapsing to the ground. Nick’s aim was perfect and the man was thrown to the ground. The silver from the bullets was causing damage that Nick's body couldn't heal fast enough.
Jillian, with sword in hand, approached the man's body. After confirming that it was indeed Thad Kendall and that he was dead she ran back to Nick. He wasn't doing well and she knew he had very little time. His normally pale face was gray and his teeth were gritted in pain. She pulled him to his feet and let him lean on her as they entered his loft.
He collapsed on the couch. Jillian's own wounds were already healing and she ignored the pain as she ran rummaged through her purse for the tweezers she knew were there.
"Just hang on Nick," she kept saying over and over again. Tweezers found, she helped him out of his coat and ripped open the front of his shirt to reveal the damage.
"Did I get him?" Nick asked through gritted teeth.
"Yes, don't talk," Jillian pleaded with him. She was working as fast as her hands would go to remove the bullets. She knew Nick had precious little time left before the silver killed him. Her heart pounded in her own ears drowning out the street noise outside his loft.
The pile of bullets on Nick's coffee table was growing rapidly. Jillian cursed under her breath as the bullet she was working on slipped out of her tweezers. Whereas Nick's body normally would've healed itself with the removal of each bullet it wasn't happening now. She was more worried than she cared to say. The last slug hit the others and the pile scattered. His eyes were shut now.
"Nick?" she called forcefully, holding his face in her hands. "Nick, you're going to have to help me out here. I don't know what else to do for you?" He was now free of bullets, but he was completely limp. The longest seconds of her life passed as she waited for some sign that he was going to be okay.
Suddenly his eyes shot open and he gripped her arms so tightly she felt her bones snapping. His eyes were glowing bright red and his fangs had appeared. She tried to block out the excruciating pain knowing that her bones would mend within a few minutes.
"Get out!" he ordered in a growl and threw her away from him with such force she hit the wall across the room and crumpled to the ground. Jillian cried out in pain as her head hit the wall. Immediately she felt her head begin to ache from the concussion she just received and she tasted blood in her mouth. He was struggling to get to his feet now driven toward the door by the overwhelming hunger. Even in her broken state she knew she had to stop him before someone died.
"Nick!" She whispered desperately through the pain. "Please don't go! You can have me!" Blood was dripping from the side of her mouth.
He stopped in his tracks and looked back at her with wide glowing eyes.
"No!" he roared.
She was on her feet now, unsteady, but on her feet.
"It's okay Nick," she was saying in a voice that didn't sound like her own. Her body was again trying to heal itself, but each step was marked by incredible pain. She walked toward him even as he was backing away from her. "Remember I can't die," she told him gently as he backed himself into a wall. She kept advancing toward him until they stood toe to toe. He turned his face away from her and shuddered from the smell of blood that filled his nostrils. Once again her heart pounded in his ears with a deafening roar. "It's okay to take what you need from me. I’m safe, you can’t kill me."
"No," he said weakly and tried to get around her. His legs gave way and he slid down the wall. She joined him on the floor and took his cold hand in her warm ones. He could feel the blood pulsing through her veins. "Please don't let me do this," he begged in a husky voice. "You don't know what you're saying." The need had become overwhelming and he knew there wasn't much time until he wouldn't be able to stop it.
"It's okay, Nick," she said and pulled his mouth to hers.
When he tasted the blood on her lips his control snapped. His arms went around her and turned to steel. He held the back of her head tightly. His lips left hers and found her neck. Nick reveled in the anticipation of what was to come. Her scent filled his senses and he knew it was too late to stop. He heard a sharp intake of breath as his fangs tore through her skin and plunged into her jugular. Nick knew a moment's wonder when he realized that she had no fear. Her arms went around him and her fingers clasped the back of his neck letting him know it was all right. Her warm blood filled his mouth and flowed down his throat bringing to mind memories of his past life. Seconds passed and still he drank greedily fueled by the sensation of her lifeblood reviving him.
Jillian held onto him as he took what he needed. She closed her eyes and discovered that it was actually a pleasant sensation. Even as she felt herself fading she had no desire to stop him. Her vision became blurry and she began to fight for each breath. Her heart was slowing from lack of oxygen, still she didn't move. She had died many times over the last seven and a half centuries, but this was the first time she felt her death had purpose. Her body began to relax at the same time she felt him relax his grip on her. Her breathing became more and more shallow and now came in raspy gasps. She closed her eyes and allowed death to claim her.
Nick's control came back to him as he felt Jillian's body go limp and fall against him. He broke his contact with her neck and hugged her to him. He could no longer hear her heartbeat. For just a moment he reveled in the strength he felt again. He felt dizzy and intoxicated. Then the horror of what he had done set in.
"Jillian?" Nick spoke her name softly and picked up her tiny hand. She was pale and stone cold. He remembered what she had said to him about her immortality, but had no idea how long it might take her to revive. After a few minutes he felt panic rising in the pit of his full stomach and fought the urge to shake her back to life. He pondered what to do if she didn’t make it. She had never been drained by a vampire. What if she couldn't survive it?
"Jillian, please come back," he begged her helplessly.
He gently picked her up and made his way to the couch. She lay there not breathing and reeking of death. He sat on the floor with his head in one hand and her cold lifeless hand in the other. Nick rubbed her fingers with his and brushed her hair from her eyes. The longest minutes of his life passed as he sat there waiting.
A ragged breath finally broke her silence and she coughed several times. The extent of the damage to her body along with the complete loss of blood made her recovery slow. It took a few minutes, but she finally opened her eyes. A single blood teardrop slid down Nick's cheek as relief flooded over him. With effort Jillian lifted her hand and wiped the tear from his cheek.
"Thanks," he managed to whisper although no sound left his tightened throat. "You saved my life and probably someone else's." To his amazement she smiled, that beautiful smile.
"Anything to help," she whispered and meant it.
"Do you know that you're the bravest person I have ever met?" Nick asked. She smiled again weakly. Exhaustion and the lingering effects of pain were overwhelming her now.
"Do you mind if I crash on your couch?" She was freezing.
"Please do," Nick said sincerely. He noticed her shivering and suddenly flew up to his bedroom to get her a blanket. He tucked the blanket around her and then kissed her forehead. She accepted his offering and was asleep before he stopped his ministrations.
"Poor Thad," she murmured dismally to Nick the next evening. They were walking along the waterfront discussing what they had just gone through the night before.
"What do you mean?" he asked confused and stopped walking.
"Grief makes the mind do terrible things," she replied quietly. "We weren’t that different, Nick. I did the same thing. Just not to this extent."
Nick opened his mouth to chastise her for being too hard on herself, but instead pulled her into his arms. Jillian settled into her friend’s embrace. "I’d arrest you for murdering your husband," he started, "but I believe the statute of limitations ran out over 700 years ago." Nick’s voice was full of his usual strange humor. "Happy birthday."
Jillian gave a small chuckle at this and for the second time in a month realized she wasn’t lonely anymore.
"You're weird." Her tone was mock serious.
"I know," he replied, "but you like me anyway."
*"Only the Lonely" words by the Motels.