From: "Rhondda Lake" To: Subject: Submission:"On Shades Of Gray" (A) Date: Sat, 7 Dec 1996 09:05:39 -0500 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Disclaimer: Sony/Tristar owns all Forever Knight Characters. I own the rest. M/F sex Sequel to "Of Light and Darkness". LaCroix/Alix story. ON SHADES OF GRAY by Rhondda Lake (part 1/?) LaCroix sipped at the contents of his glass. It was not too bad but neither was it truly enjoyable. Sustaining - that was the word. The equivalent of drinking water when one preferred wine. Even carefully heated the bottled reserve was rather weak compared to the fresh pulsing heat of life carrying fluid straight from a victim, or a donor. Donor. Victim. Once more his mind flashed to two nights ago. The woman beneath him only moments before so wildly passionate slowly fading into death. Her extraordinary blood charging him as none other ever had. His attempt to bring her across. Her refusal. Regret. He didn't really have many regrets, just two hidden deep within himself until last night. All bearing a name. Now there were three, and it was discomforting to realize that he regretted the end of a woman he'd barely known. Diva. Fleur. Alix. Strange, all his regrets were of the female persuasion. One he regretted was still living. The other two, lost forever to death's cold embrace. He thumbed through the small pile of envelopes in his hand. Mortal concerns. Bills for the club. A letter from the Liqueur Control Board... must renew that license before it ran out... and a small square envelope of pale ivory. The neat and elegant lettering on it in an oddly familiar hand. He tore open the envelope to find a gold embossed invitation to the LeCrivan Gallery for tomorrow night. A special premier showing of paintings by the newly discovered Alix Argent. He looked at the envelope, it had been post dated two days ago. Hours before she died. Were they still going to have the showing? Of course. The paintings of a dead artist tended to bring more money. The path of human greed. He suddenly wanted to see her work. To somehow gain insight into Alix's life through her expressions of paint and canvass. It was somehow both unlike him and very like him. Usually he'd attend something like this to gloat, but not this time. This time he hoped to learn something. And his continued interest in the woman was unsettling. Why did she still haunt him so? He had dreamed of her during the day. The faces of three young men swimming in and out of his dream vision. Alix in a bed, pale and weak, but recovering from some illness. The men bringing her food, books, entertainment. The four speaking in an unknown language. If he hadn't seen, heard, felt her death he might believe her still alive. But it was most likely her unusual blood, having given him none of her memories as he drank he might be gaining them in such flashes as he dreamt. He tossed the other envelopes on the bar and studied the embossed invitation. + + + + + \/ \/ The mortals around him were all elegantly dressed. Expensive fabrics and Armani suits. He was dressed much as he always was, in black. His only ornament the silver pin fashioned into the shape of a sword seemingly impaled through his collar. The concierge took his invitation and checked his name off a list before directing him to the exhibit. The gallery held not only paintings but sculpture in different mediums. He half listened for discussions of the artists disappearance, but could detect not even a single offhand remark. The first thing to draw him was an impressionist piece. The canvass was covered in dry brush strokes of varying shades of gray an impression of soft fur. In the left upper corner was a yellow circle with a black center. An eclipse, or an eye. The bottom corner was a crimson smear. "She called it 'The Beast Within'." LaCroix nodded, showing no surprise that someone had managed to move behind him so silently he had not detected them. He turned to see one of the men from the previous night's dream. The man was only slightly smaller then he, but dense with muscle. His hair an odd mixture of grays, his eyes a tannish brown. "I'm Jarod Sterling." The young man held out his hand. LaCroix took it, and almost smiled at the forceful grip that met him. Tight enough to possibly injure any other man. He gave not the slightest hint of discomfort. Young Jarod frowned slightly. "Lucien LaCroix." He introduced himself, reclaiming his hand with ease. "Are you a buyer or here to support the artist?" The boy just didn't know when to back down did he? "I... knew the artist." He moved away, preferring to avoid public trouble. It was inconvenient. And he had the distinct impression that this impetuous young fool was posturing, seeking to intimidate somehow. That, obviously, would never work. The next canvass was a full moon against a white background. The shadows on the moon hinted at a naked woman, curled in a fetal position. Half this painting, too, was smeared with red. A swipe of blood across everything. It was skillfully done, but spoke of a disturbing unrest within the artist. Was this how Alix had dealt with the pain of her loneliness? He noted the small brass plaque on the frame. 'The Moon Goddess'. "Alix never mentioned you." The annoyance was back. The insolent welp needed a lesson in manners. "I was a fairly recent aquaintence." LaCroix moved to examine a sculpture of black marble, a running wolf, sleek and smooth, completely fluid in movement. It was exquisite. It seemed to speak more of it's creator then the paintings had. "Jarod, stop being an ass." The soft voice alone caused LaCroix's head to snap up to look at the woman standing next to the painting he'd recently viewed. It was utterly impossible. She stood there dressed in a short velvet slip dress of deepest purple, gold cording swirled abstractly the top, accentuating her breasts. Her long white hair flowed loosely down her back. Small teardrop amethysts winked from her ears. Her pale violet eyes were filled with amusement as she practically flowed the short distance between them to stand before him. One small finger brushed his jaw, sending an uncomfortable jolt of desire through him. "Close your mouth, dear. You look like a beached fish." She whispered softly, close to his ear. With that she swept past him, to speak to some other people. Prospective buyers by the looks of it. She shouldn't be speaking with anyone. Alix Argent should be dead, and laying at the bottom of the lake. "My cousin does know how to make an enterance doesn't she?" Jarod appeared vastly amused by LaCroix's reaction. "Your... cousin? Yes...," his eyes narrowed suspiciously. There was a game being played here. One he didn't feel like playing. The only games he cared for were ones of his own making. "She certainly knows how to gain a man's attention." Jarod's smile was toothy, reminiscent of a snarl more then a look of amusement. "She's gained many a man's attention over the years, Mr. LaCroix. But YOU are the only one to ever catch her." There was nothing veiled now, the man's whole demeanor was one of menace and threat. "If she regrets that decision, you'll know what it's really like to have the hounds of hell at your heels." LaCroix stepped closer to him, his eyes flashing gold momentarily. Jarod met his stare challengingly. "I don't take well to threats. Watch your step." It was then that he noticed the two others. Young men so like the one before him they appeared cast from the same mold. They were watching the confrontation with interest, yet not interfearing. The man had the audacity to smile. "Try it. You'll find yourself surprised once again." "Jarod." Alix was there once again. "What have I told you? This is not your territory. Back off now, or we will have... words... later." LaCroix looked away from the boy to gaze at Alix. She was furious, the blood having run to her face. Yes, this was no twin, no imposter. Only she could smell of roses and cinnamon. Jarod's shoulder's slumped but his head went back, his chin jutting forward. The motion of his head should have been defiant, but it reminded LaCroix of something else... something elusive just then. "Lucien, please come meet Karen Haas, the woman who arranged for this exhibit. I'm deeply indebted to her." Alix took his arm tentatively, her gaze at him slightly pensive and unsure. That, the uncertainty in her eyes, was what made him walk away with her. She had evidently rethought this little game. And he wanted answers. And soon he WOULD have them. End part 1... From: "Rhondda Lake" To: Subject: Submission: "On Shades of Gray" (A) Date: Sat, 7 Dec 1996 09:06:47 -0500 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Disclaimed in part 1. m/f sex. LaCroix/Alix ON SHADES OF GRAY by Rhondda Lake (part 2/?) Alix stopped twice to acknowledge compliments from an art critic and a potential buyer. But the pauses were brief as she tentatively led LaCroix to a door marked as the Gallery Office. She opened the door and stepped inside, trusting him to follow. Once again she had taken the lead, and he wondered why he allowed it. Ah yes... to get answers. That was why wasn't it? Alix closed the door and moved to stand in the center of the secretary's office. Her eyes were downcast, seeming to find the sight of her laced fingers of sudden interest. "I don't appreciate games." He stated simply, folding his arms before him, looking down at her imposingly. He had moved close enough to invade her personal space. To her credit, she didn't flinch. She looked up to meet his eyes. "On the contrary. You enjoy games immensely. You just don't like games you haven't initiated." He grabbed her arm roughly, with bruising force, and he was pleased to see her wince. "Don't toy with me. Don't you think you've held the advantage long enough?" She pulled her arm free of his grasp in a move so swift it had happened before he realized it. "Advantage? That's what this is about? Everything is wonderful and all is right with the world as long as Lucien LaCroix has the advantage over everyone else. Well life doesn't always work that way. That's what keeps it interesting." Her voice did not rise in pitch but her anger was clear in her eyes, in her accelerated heartbeat. "Just for your personal information, I had no intention of playing games. I really did want to help you. My decision to accept you as my mate was both irrevocable and admittedly impetuous." She crossed her arms now, tilting her head to the side. "You should be dead." He remained outwardly unphased by her speech. "I should also be a withered crone, if I were human." Her lips curved into a small smile. "But I obviously am not." "Obviously." He took a seat on the waiting area's love seat, and appeared prepared to wait for the next century to receive the answers he wanted. "Of course this put YOU in a decided advantage. As my people will view you as my mate, and thus kin of sorts." She added, as if trying to appease him. "And your people are?" "As old as yours." She sat on the edge of the worn desk, out of reach. "I couldn't speak of it, not to an outsider, not to one outside of the kin. But now you are connected, in a way, through me." She tossed her head, making her hair sway seductively. "Mankind has formed legends of us, as they have of you. Most of them erroneous. But... damnit. I have never had to have this talk before." He said nothing, but his eyes did not leave hers. She looked away, swallowing hard. Some sort of victory had been won, he sensed, but yet again he didn't know the rules and it was annoying him. "We were never human, although on occasion we have taken human mates, and our blood seems to allow for interbreeding, though the we breed true and such children have our traits. We live long lives. My father was four hundred when he died, my mother three hundred. The oldest of us is nearing his first millennia, but he has grown feeble and we think he is not much longer for this world." She took a deep breath and plowed ahead. "And when the moon is full we shift from this human form to the shape of our nature." Her eyes met his again at last. "Wolves." "Werewolves. And I am supposed to accept this?" He almost laughed. She smiled fully. "Yes, it's rediculous isn't it. As silly as believing in vampires." "That's not very amusing." He sneered. "It wasn't meant to be. You can't kill me LaCroix. Not by draining me, or drowning, or shooting, or throwing me off a building, or beating me until no bone remains unbroken. Oh... you can hurt me. I feel pain as much as any human... but there are only three things that can kill us." "Silver." He guessed smoothly, and was rewarded by seeing her flinch slightly. "We are... severely allergic to that metal, yes. It can make wounds heal more slowly, or even poison us to death." Her eyes flickered to his pin then looked away nervously. Somehow that seemed insulting. HE was something to be feared. He'd always been able to intimidate when he wished, yet with this girl he had never been able to provoke fear. No. But his PIN did? It was almost laughable. "What else?" He asked, wanting to know, needing the knowledge, the advantage. Alix shook her head. "You are my mate, and kin of my kin now, but you'll forgive me if I don't feel comfortable discussing the ways you could dispatch my family. Any more then you'd list all the ways I could kill you." She spread her hands before her. "You keep saying that. Just what exactly does it mean?" She shrugged. "Wolves mate for life. From the moment we had sex, I was bound to you. I cannot accept another mate. It is irrevocable. I can't take it back. You... of course, are not bound by the same laws. But for me there can be no other. To be honest, no other could match you. Your strength of will, your spirit, you cannot be commanded or broken. That is why I submitted to you." "You refused my blood, claiming you would not accept a master..." "But I won't. I would settle for nothing less then an equal. You may be my mate, but that doesn't mean I'm some silly little weak willed slave. Sorry, I can't simper after anyone." Alix crossed the space between them and sat with one hip on the arm of the love seat. "The question now remains.... what do you intend to do? Our laws cannot bind you. Is this the last I will see of you?" The question was unexpected. What would he do? He wasn't exactly the... mating kind. Yet this woman haunted him. "Can I put an end to the dreams?" He asked. "I don't know. Neither of us sought them. I think our connection started over a week ago, and I don't know if that part can be broken." She seemed to make an attempt to hide disappointment. "I barely know you." He sighed. "You know me better then any living soul, and I know you. LaCroix, I would be your friend, even if you would not accept me as your mate. I think... I think you need a friend." His anger surged. "You presume to know what I need?" She almost smiled. "Haven't I so far? Have I not known what you needed and given it willingly from our first meeting? Have you ever had a friend like that?" No. The answer was no. He'd never allowed anyone close enough. Not even his own progeny. Was he able to suffer those daily dreams of her, and not contact her, not have her? She, even now, aroused both his body and his hunger as none had in centuries. Was he prepared to toss that away out of spite? And who would he spite more, her... or himself. "I'll leave you to ponder that. I have a gallery full of guests right now, and it really is my first show. Please excuse me." She stood and headed for the door. "But I... respectfully... ask you to stay and at least let me know of your decision." She began to open the door when something she had said earlier struck him, and he found himself asking, "Just how old are you?" She chuckled low in her throat. The sound was amazingly arousing. "Haven't you learned it's rude to ask a lady her age?" She paused. "I was born on November twenty fourth in the year nineteen thirty. I guess that gives new meaning to the term... old maid, huh?" She smiled then was gone. Leaving him to ponder his options. End part 2... From: "Rhondda Lake" To: Subject: Submission:"On Shades of Gray" (A) Date: Sat, 7 Dec 1996 09:07:51 -0500 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Disclaimed in part 1. ON SHADES OF GRAY by Rhondda Lake (Part 3/?) This was definitely an interesting turn of events. Instead of rather fruitlessly raging against the situation, LaCroix decided to consider it a challenge. He always had enjoyed a challenge. Challenge? The word hardly began to describe this woman. A werewolf. Werewolves. How could such creatures have escaped the notice of HIS kind until now? How was it possible? If there was a God and a Satan why not werewolves as well? What was next? Alix would introduce him to a jovial little fat man in a red suit? Alright, that was going a bit far. And Alix struck all his senses as a normal mortal would... except her scent. Cinnamon. A spice. He'd never likened the scent of a human's blood to a spice before. They tended to resemble ripe, tantalizing fruit. He thought back to the annoyance in the gallery. Jarod, Alix's cousin, and presumably another of her... kind. Sandalwood and cloves. He smiled to himself. He would have to test the theory of course, but if all her kind had the scent of spices in their blood he had a way of detecting them. It lessened their potential threat by a point of knowledge. So what did he plan to do? Alix was a tempting little thing. She somehow embodied innocence and maturity, strength of will and a charming shyness. A mass of contradictions that made the most intriguing whole. Packaged neatly in one of the most delectable forms. Well... most of the month anyway. He tried to imagine her as a wolf? A sleek, white she wolf. Yes, he could see it too easily. It hardly seemed any time at all before she was back, slipping quietly through the door, the sounds from the gallery itself had gone from a rush of people to a meer handful. She noticed him leaning against the wall and seemed almost relieved. "I sold five paintings and two sculptures. That should have been a triumph for me. But... I was worried you might have left, despite my request." She almost blushed, the blood flushed her face, shoulders and throat for a second before retreating. "What exactly are you expecting of me?" He didn't move. One shoulder still proped against the wall as he stood there, looking down at her. "I honestly don't know. I can guess. You were angry and suspicious when you saw me again. Most likely suspecting a trap of some sort. Then you were just angry as you were playing with a puzzle and lacking many important pieces. But what you plan to do now... I can't begin to guess. I think... I think you could use my friendship if that is all you want to accept from me." "You do?" He shoved away from the wall to stand directly before her, barely an inch separating them. "And if I decide I do want more?" "Then decisions must be made. I am willing to accept you as my mate in full, and all it implies," she had the audacity to jab at his chest with one small, tapered finger, "if you promise not to drop me in the lake again. As for how much of each other we can stand... we'll have to experiment with that. I don't think I can stand 24 hours a day of gloom and doom and arrogant amusement at the expense of the human race." "Yes, I've noticed your fondness for them. Especially the aged and infirm. Don't wolves usually hunt such members of their prey's herd?" He was amused at her spirit. "THEY are NOT our prey."Her face was one of disgust. Her small nose scrunching prettily. "Humans have only felt our teeth and claw when they deserve it, or in battle. Since I am forced to be what I am, give me a nice haunch of venison or a tender rabbit any day. "They have feelings, and souls just as we do. And yes, I am attached to them. I live among them more then I do my own kind. There is much in them to be admired. I call many of them friend, though none know the truth of my nature." "Gods you remind me of Nicholas." He muttered. She smiled wryly at that. "Your most troublesome child? I think I would like him." "It figures. Am I cursed to forever be surrounded by simpering idiots and over romantic fools?" Her smile spread to become dazzeling. "Does that mean you plan on giving us a try?" "One... night at a time. If you become overly bothersome I'll most likely dump you in the lake again." "Ha! I'm almost garunteed to be bothersome LaCroix. I tend to give people what they NEED, not what they want. I also have a mind of my own that you are not about to go about changing anytime in the next millenia. Who knows, you may well piss me off to the point where I will want to see what vampire tastes like." She crossed her arms and looked him up and down, her eyes frankly appraising. "And I think I know JUST what you need right now..." She uncrossed her arms and tugged at the lepels of his jacket. He alowed himself to be pulled down to meet her lips. Deliciously soft and warm under his own. End part 3... From: "Rhondda Lake" To: Subject: Submission:"On Shades of Gray" (A) Date: Sat, 7 Dec 1996 09:08:52 -0500 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Disclaimed in part 1. ON SHADES OF GRAY by Rhondda Lake (part 4/4) For a recent virgin Alix was certainly a fast learner. That in itself might make this arrangement very interesting. Her kiss grew demanding as her tongue explored his mouth, not shying from the sharpened points of his retracted fangs, but gracing each with sensuous strokes. He pulled back, but not without some hesitation. "So you think I need this?" "I think you want this. I think we both do. And I think you need to know I am not afraid." Her warm hand cupped his cheek. "And that I do find you very desirable. You are the first man in my life to make me feel this." This time he kissed her and their mouths became a battle ground. Fierce and bruising as he allowed her to battle for supremacy, even though the conclusion was foregone. She was stronger then a human, but didn't possess one tenth his own power. In moments he had her pinned to the wall as he pressed himself against her. She whimpered low in her throat before pulling from his kiss to turn her head. Her chin out and her eyes closed, the lovely column of her white throat inviting. Was she turning away from him now? She opened her eyes to look at him and almost smiled. "I'm surrendering the battle LaCroix, but not the war." At that moment a few pieces fell into place. She was surrendering as a wolf might, by offering her throat. The same stance that brat Jarod had taken when she dressed him down earlier. LaCroix made a mental note to read up a bit more on the habits of wolves before putting all of it from him mind as his lips traced her throat. She hissed and began to squirm. He pulled back and immediately noticed the red welt over her right breast. "Will you PLEASE take that damn thing off. It is BREAKING the mood." She scoweled. His hand flew to his pin and he almost laughed. He removed it and placed it in the pocket of his jacket. "MUCH better." She actually pounced on him. Her arms locking around his neck and shoulders as her slender legs wrapped around his waist as she kissed him deeply. It was either accept or push her away, and he was in NO mood to push her away. He moved back to sit on the edge of the love seat, her weight negligible at best. Thus seated they were of a height. His hands found her knees at his sides and ran up her legs, her thighs, she was not wearing hose or stockings. The fact was strangely alluring. His hands slipped under the velvet of her dress, pushing it before him as his hands moved to glide over the pleasing firmness of her ass. Her panties were silk, and the texture was barely discernable from her flesh. She groaned as he squeezed, pressing herself into him more firmly. She pulled away to breathe before smiling devilishly at him and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Her fingers glided over his flesh as she slowly undid each button as her hips rocked into him with each new inch uncovered. Where had she learned THAT? "You seem to be a fast learner." He commented as he pushed the short little dress up to the point just under her breasts. The warm skin of her sides seemed to burn as if fevered. "Just one of my many attributes." She purred before bending to kiss and nip at his chest as she pushed his shirt aside. "Right after modesty." He would NOT allow her to know how she affected him. He would NOT. "It seems to be about on par with yours." He could not help the instinctive tensing as her lips closed over one flat nipple before her teeth nipped. "You cold LaCroix?" She straightened and her eyes looked into his, challenging. "Cold doesn't bother me. However I am sure you can warm me." He slipped her dress all the way off, over her head. His fingers easily snapped open the front closure of her black silk bra. "So you like what you see?" She finished removing his shirt and rubbed against him. Her hardened nipples rubbing against his chest enticing. "Of course. You have held up well for your age." Her response was to rake her nails down his torso. "So have you, old man, so cut the age crap. Let's not forget I'm still about seventeen hundred years your junior, you cradle robber." He returned her earlier attentions. Gratified to hear her gasp as he nipped at her breast before suckling. "Perhaps I'm entering a second childhood." The words were mostly muffled by the preoccupation of his lips. "Don't let me stand in your way." Alix purred then cried out as he ripped her panties away. "Hey! Those were a new pair." "I'll buy you another." He stood and allowed her to slide down his body. She grinned that devilish little grin again before sliding to her knees and undoing his belt. Her removal of his pants was as slow as the removal of his shirt had been. Her hands caressed his legs as she pushed them down. "So I take it there must be a now biting rule if Vampires engage in oral sex." She looked up from his arousal with sparkling eyes. "Impertinent brat." They were the last words that would form in his mind as hot wetness enclosed him. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the sensation. It was gone all to soon. His eyes opened to see her standing before him her eyes flashing. "You are NOT the only one going to have fun here." "Of course not." He cleared the coffee table with the sweep of an arm just before pushing her down on it. His hands and mouth flowing down her body until he found her center. His lips closed over her and her body drew tight and she wimpered. He teased her for a few eternal moments. Drawing her close to the edge before kissing his way back up her body. "What's good for the goose..." "If you don't shut up and fuck me I'm going to show you just what a bitch I can be." She pulled him into a kiss as he entered her. He pulled away to watch her face as he moved. Judging which stroke brought her the most pleasure, what pace drove her close to madness. She watched his face as well, but she appeared driven beyond thinking or judging anything. As she cried out and convulsed around him she threw her head back, then turned her head to the side. Offering. His fangs sank in and that incredible sweetness erupted into his mouth again. His body found release as her blood filled him. This time he held to control, however. He took an amount that may well be dangerous to a mortal, but not necessarily fatal. Alix stirred under him, her eyes fluttering open. "That was nice." She purred. She actually purred. "Is that what it was?" He smiled. "I don't want to say more or it will inflate your already overblown ego." She had the audacity to try to nip at his nose. "And you are going to try to keep my ego within bounds?" "I have other parts I'd rather see inflated." She wriggled. "This is defiantly going to prove to be an interesting relationship." He pulled away from her. Somehow both annoyed and intrigued by the effect she had on him. He collected his own clothing and held her dress out to her. "In more ways then you can imagine." She took her dress from him. "I'm never going to be able to walk into this office again without blushing." "Serves you right. You are a little minx." "Right sentiment, wrong animal." She pulled the dress back on, stuffing the ruins of her panties and her bra into her small purse. "I'm just glad my cousins are staying in a hotel. They'll smell this from a mile away." Alix laughed. "And you are embarrassed?" "Hardly. But they will be... difficult around this smell." "Really?" Alix raised a pale eyebrow. "Jealous? You shouldn't be. I'd tear the throat out of any male but you who tries." There was no goodbye, she simply slipped out the door as she had entered. Leaving LaCroix to feel like he had lost control of the situation somehow. end ********************* I'm working on a long story to follow this one. A mystery/adventure that will include Nick, Nat and Tracy as well as LaCroix and Alix, and give a bit more information and background on these weres. Please tell me if there is interest. Constructive Criticism welcome at rhonilak@icontech.com