Part 33: The Dancers Pause: an epilogue

Two weeks later...

Humming an old French carol as he exited out the doorway of a bookstore, Nicholas spied the red Cadillac convertible parked near the curb. He walked over to it with a large smile on his face and ran an appreciative hand over the metal body.

The paint choice was a bit loud for his taste, but...

It was a beaut. Classic lines; well kept. Lovely boot cut in the back tempting him to pop the lid to check it out for fit. You just didn't see great automobiles like this prowling the streets that often anymore---and he should know, the knight thought wistfully. thinking of his own back-finned 'horseless carriage' that Lacroix was still holding hostage against his son's good behavior.

Nicholas de Brabant, knight, vampire and would-be saint sighed in frustrated resignation.

He missed his car and the degree of independence it gave him. Heck---this was the first time since the battle with J'ranor that Lacroix had let him go out alone without an escort. Even his trip with Jenny to the mall had required the presence of his sister, although that had turned out just as well as Janette was so much more knowledgeable about the current fashions for women then he was.

Now---finally!---his sire had permitted him to go out for two hours unattended---with certain restrictions, of course.

Stay downtown. No flying unless an emergency. And no, he could not have his car keys back yet.

Nicholas' mouth quirked into a grin at the ridiculousness of his situation.

Eight-hundred years old---and he was quite literally grounded by his dad. And human teenagers thought they had it tough!

Since learning that his child was quietly talking to others about God, his sire had become even more protective of him than ever. Probably afraid he intended to drive straight to the nearest holy shrine and offer himself as a monk or something, Nicholas chuckled. It wasn't long before the General had started to argue that any such candidates for his 'conversations' be screened in advance---by himself. Nicholas rolled his eyes at the memory. Undoubtedly the man was purposely intimidating those that sought him out in the hopes that his child would quit this newest 'hobby' altogether. What measures Lacroix would take if he knew that his son not only talked about Jehovah, but with him as well? As half of a two-way conversation?

It had started out small---a few short sentences whispered in the quiet. Yesterday, however, Nicholas had managed to hear snatches of His voice even with his attention divided by Aristotle's questions.

His hands absently caressed the car's length as he thought on how blessed he was to be allowed to hear the very tongue of his Creator. God was so... well, delightful to listen to.

As are you, Nicholas.

De Brabant breathed deeply in pleasure at His regard.

"Hey, Fang Boy! Get your mitts off'a my car!"

Startled by the brusque command coming so hard on the heels of the soft whisper in his mind, Nicholas guiltily snatching his hands away from the Cadillac, looking up to apologize to the owner--- and felt his frown transform into a huge grin of its own accord.

"Andrew! Monica! Tess!" he exclaimed happily, giving each of the three angels a warm hug. "When I awoke and Lacroix said you were gone," he told them, "I feared that that last time was our final goodbye."

"Well, we just came to check on that little cafe down the street," Monica insisted as she pointed back the way they had come. (Actually, the case worker had wanted to celebrate Andrew's return to his normal, daylight-enabled self; however, Monica did not want to offend Nicholas by saying so out loud.) A tiny smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she added, "but this was the closest parking space Tess could find to park her rolling yacht."

Their vampire friend chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't I know it," he agreed, gazing admiringly at the classic auto. "All the new parking spaces are designed for those tiny economy cars and their so-called adequate trunk space. Obviously the people who made that claim never had to sleep back there."

Monica laughed. "You've slept in car trunks?"

"Best emergency daylight refuge I ever had," Nick huffed, pretended to be miffed at her. "Clean. Portable. Believe me,"---he playfully waggled a reproving finger at Monica---if you're a vampire and you ever find yourself out in barren country with dawn just minutes away, you'd gladly take curling up in a nice Caddy trunk anytime over digging yourself a burrow." He grimaced. "Darned damp earth ruined more of my wardrobe back in the Good Ole Days."

"Would you like a lift to wherever you are going, Nicholas?" Monica asked sweetly. She liked this new, cheerful version of De Brabant and sincerely hoped that the worst part of his life was over and done so that he could thoroughly enjoy the rest.

The vampire hesitated for a moment. Lacroix had not specifically said he couldn't accept a ride in a car---just not his own or in a taxi cab.

"As a matter of fact, I would like to go someplace to have this embossed." He tapped the small, wrapped package protruding from his jacket pocket. It was a leather-bound, travel-sized edition of Robert Frost's poems that he'd picked up as a gift for Jenny. "I'm kind of without my own transportation at the moment." He glanced at the car's owner. "If that's alright with you, of course, Madame?"

"Back seat with Andrew, Fang boy," Tess told him with a gesture to the rear of the car. "Unless," she added with an amused twinkle, "you'd be more comfortable riding in the trunk?"

Andrew chuckled as he remembered something he had seen on one of the Raven's computers during his stay there. "And while we're shopping around, Tess can purchase one of those 'Vampire In Trunk' bumper stickers."

"You're kidding!" Monica giggled. "How do you know that they actually sell something like that?"

Andrew grinned sheepishly at the others. "I looked up 'vampire' on the Internet after someone named 'Rosebud' left their connection on," he admitted causing all three of his friends to laugh. "Hey, I was bored and it was role research!" the Angel of Death explained. "Besides, the purchase page for it was marked in the Bookmarks file."

That made De Brabant nearly double-up with laughter. 'Rosebud' was his sire's Net name. The thought of Lacroix ever considering buying such a thing was hysterical. He wondered where his master was even planning to put it. And quickly sobered up at one possibility.

He wouldn't!

Tess was thinking along similar lines, only with a certain Angel of Death rather than a vampire Elder in mind. She glared at her sometimes underling in stern disapproval. "Don't you even think of attaching one of those gluey menaces to my pride and joy, Mr. Halo!"

The angel in question just smiled back in an innocent manner, holding the front passenger door open for Monica to get in.

Tess eyed him speculatively as she slid behind the wheel, shaking her head. Going through the steps of her pre-drive checklist, she looked back through the rear-view mirror as Andrew and Nicholas slid into the back seats, the latter taking extra care of the upholstery as he did so. "So, Nicholas, you still have yours?" Tess asked and inwardly smiled at the answering gleam in De Brabant's eyes. She knew she wouldn't need to clarify the question--- the supervisor saw how much he loved her car.

"Yeah---a seafoam 1962 Eldorado convertible---best one to be had," Nicholas affirmed in the tone of a proud parent at a talent show. He then went into a detailed account of how he'd found his own 'love'.

Glancing at each other, Monica and Andrew let out identical groans of mock despair as their two friends started a friendly but animated debate on whose version of Cadillac was the better.

Oh, no! Two of them!

Andrew reminded her that Patience was a virtue. The angelic couple smiled at each other. It was so good to see their charge finally happy.

Up on the bookstore's roof, a solitary figure in black watched in disapproval as the red car pulled out into the street, heading toward the Harbour Front shopping district. He was about to follow when a white dove suddenly flew into what was to have been his takeoff trajectory. Aborting his plan to keep continuous tabs on his child's activities for the entire time of his 'excursion', Lucien Lacroix turned his head and gazed at the bird that had taken roost on the ledge beside him. He couldn't be sure---was probably just being an idiot for even imagining that this dove was anything more than it appeared---but just in case...

The darned animal had been hanging around him ever since he and Nicholas had re-entered Toronto.

Lacroix graced the avian with a light sneer. "As you wish, my be-feathered shadow, I will grant him his privacy for the rest of the night. However, should Nicholas come to harm while under your 'wing'?" The vampire chuckled nastily. "Well, shall we say--Hell hath no fury like unto mine should that happen."

The dove cooed softly at him as if unaware or unafraid of the threat he had voiced, dipping its head before turning its gaze---in the direction of the Harbor and the receding carload of immortals.

Lacroix shook his head. He was imagining things.

Maybe.

Even so, it was with one flying towards the nightclub and the other towards Toronto's famed shopping haven that the Raven garbed and the snowy Dove ended their dance for the night.

The End

A/N: To those of you who read and enjoyed (or didn't!) and didn't bother to offer comment: May a hundred Vampire Bat Beanie Babies drop on your head from above. Ha!

To Teresita, who mid-way through posting the original version years ago, offered me the services of her spell-checking: THANK YOU!

To Andrew, the Angel of Death who fired my imagination for this:

GIVE ME BACK THOSE FK PROPS, YOU LOUSY ...! Monica is NOT amused and neither am I!

Kyer: Innocent bystander between the Dance of Raven & Dove. Hey!...S'truth!

And thus ends this tale.

Side note: To answer the question on Tracy's absence in Heaven, I posted a note (a looong note) in my Profile. It will remain until I have need to update the Profile info.