The Return of Nicholas Collins

"For the most part, I have too. These days I only eat regular food when I'm with mortals, unless it's chocolate," her eyes locked onto the piece he held, "then it doesn't matter who or what I'm around."

He brought the piece of candy to her mouth and rubbed it over her bottom lip. "Part your lips for me."

Her gaze never lefts his as she opened her mouth and felt him slide the dark chocolate inside. She moaned her delight when she bit down, savoring the flavor on her tongue. She swallowed and licked her lips. Heat spread through her belly as he watched the movement. "You should try it, Nicholas. I bet you would like it."

"Yeah, I think I should do just that," he said and leaned in till his mouth touched hers. His tongue flicked across her lips. Back and forth he slowly tasted them, teased them. Her insides quaked at the soft caress.

He sucked her lower lip between his teeth and nipped it with his fangs. His moan mixed with hers as it filled the room. He lingered over her mouth, placing small, biting kisses there before gently pulling away. "Mm, blood and chocolate, now that is one food combination I could grow to crave." He then popped the remainder of the candy into his mouth and left her momentarily speechless on her knees in the light of the refrigerator door.

"Nicholas," she whispered, knowing full well that he could hear, "that was an extremely rotten thing to do to me." His laughter echoed back at her as he walked away.

She threw the box and it hit the back of the fridge with a bang, which she quickly followed up with a slamming of its door. She wanted to strangle Nicholas for teasing her like that. All evening as they drove on the interstate and back roads to get here she had been on edge.

When she wasn't worrying about leaving Kelly behind to protect her own family and Roni, she was thinking about Nicholas. So much had changed in so little time between them. Things that she had wanted to change years ago. More changes were still ahead of her once this killer was caught. She would bet her entire fortune that when everything was said and done, her heart would be broken.

She stomped off in the opposite direction, needing to get away from him if only for a few minutes. Along the way she stopped and jerked opened paint stuck windows to air the house out. Her blood still hummed from the heated kiss in the kitchen when she burst into the next room and froze.

The room could have been empty and she still would have thought it the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. The anger, worry and sexual tension drained away as the color of the walls swept over her. She hadn't seen that shade of blue since the afternoon before her wedding to Dunn. Automatically her eyes closed and her head tilted upwards, as if she were lifting her face toward the sun, searching for the light and the warmth to kiss her skin and make her feel again.

Her pace was slow as she walked around the outer edges of the room. Dust coated her fingertips as they trailed over the wall while she pretended that she was touching the sky.

The trickle of a tear down her cheek pulled her back to reality. WOW! What an experience and all because of some paint on a wall. When she got back to Kelly's she was going to have to ask John if there was anyway he could get her the same shade of blue so she could use it in her next home. It would certainly make the nights a lot warmer.

A golden frame caught her eye from the nearly empty bookcase. It was tucked between two forgotten paperbacks and the joy that was evident within the photograph made her want for something that she would never have: love, family and happiness.

As she picked up the frame she barely recognized John in the photo. His hair was longer, almost touching his shoulders, and his body had a slimmer build than now. His eyes and his smile were aimed at a striking blonde beside him as he held what had to be a giggling Sarah on his shoulders, her baby curls blowing in the breeze.

Nicholas' voice came from just above her shoulder. "Great picture, whose the blonde with John?"

She sat the frame back in its place on the shelf. "John's first wife, April."

His arms came around her waist. "What happened, did they get a divorce?"

Rachel leaned back into his body. "That would have been less cruel than what really happen." She lay her hands over his on her stomach. "She died of cancer a few years ago."

He pulled away so quickly that she would have fallen backwards if not for her speedy reactions. Curious, she watched him walk to the other side of the room and stare out the large picture window into the dark.

She moved forward, her eyes locked on his reflection in the glass. It shocked her to see the lines that stood out on his face. It was like he had aged twenty mortal years in seconds.

He slid his hands into the front pocket of his blue jeans. "Cancer... such a terrible way for a human to die."

"Yes it is." She hesitated behind him, unsure of whether her touch would be welcomed, and then his words stopped her.

"Have you ever lost someone to cancer, Rachel?"

She dropped her arm and moved to his side. He turned his head toward her and stared with such pain filled eyes that her gut twisted. "No, I've lost friends to other illnesses and diseases, but never cancer."

The sadness on his handsome, but scared face, nearly tore her apart. He looked haunted as he said, "I have."

***

It took all his strength not to pull away from Rachel when she lay a tender hand to his arm. Nicholas knew it wasn't her fault, but it was hard at that moment to accept her kindness. He really didn't want to talk about Susan with her. He knew that what he said to Rachel, the words, the emotions, that he expressed would hurt her. It was for the best that she heard about the one woman of his past who had come close to making him feel that love that he'd always felt for her.

"Her name was Susan. I met her late one night back in the mid 60's. Seemed her car stalled out and left her stranded on the side of the road with her small son."

He had to move, to do something other than stand there. As he talked, he carefully folded back the dust-covered sheet from the sofa, exposing its creamy white cushions. "We made small talk all the way back to town. I found her so easy to talk to that I came close to telling her my secret."

He took the sheet out the door and dropped it onto the porch and went back inside. Tension was thick as the fog filled air outside in the living room. "Anyway, she told me that she was divorced and had been for over a year. Said she had been working as a secretary to support herself and her boy."

He heard the slight tremor in her voice as she asked, "What did Susan look like?"

"Susan had bright blue eyes, soft chestnut hair that hung down to the middle of her back. Her smile was a little crooked, but that didn't take away from her beauty." He smiled fondly, "She had the sweetest Georgia accent. I think it was her voice that made me fall for her."

Glass shattered and he jerked from his memories, his body going on instant alert. His sharp eyes looked over at Rachel and found her crouched down on the floor. "What happen? Are you okay?"

She kept her back to him and her head down. One by one he saw her pick up the green pieces of broken glass. When she spoke, her voice was low, emotionless. "Just a clumsy moment, Nick. I wasn't paying attention and knocked over a vase." He started toward but she stopped him with a quick glare over her shoulder. "I'm fine, please continue with your story."

He knew she wasn't fine. They didn't have to be connected mentally for him to feel the hurt that his confession had brought to her. He could have lied to Rachel, could have omitted the truth about what he had felt for Susan, but that would have been so wrong. Not only to Rachel, but wrong also to Susan's memory.

At the bookcase, he stared at the picture Rachel had held earlier. "It was our third year together when she started to get sick. I knew something was wrong. I could smell it in her scent, taste it in her blood. I begged her to go to the doctor when I first noticed it. She only laughed at me and said not to worry that it was only a summer cold."

Tears blurred his sight as he stroked a trembling finger over the image of Sarah's mom, April, in the photo. Her and Susan, two beautiful women who were taken from the world all too soon.

He blinked away his tears. "Once she finally realized that she wasn't getting better and went to the doctor, it was too late. They gave her a year to live at the most."

Pieces of glass fell into the wastebasket, tapping as they bounced against its hard plastic bottom. "How long did she live?"

He twisted his head and watched her dust her hands against her jean covered thighs and then lean against the wall. "She lived close to a year and half." Rachel's face looked sad, weary. He couldn't tell if the sadness was for him and his loss, or if her feelings were for herself and the knowledge he had loved someone else.

"Near the end it was terrible for her. God! I hadn't seen anyone suffer like that in centuries." He began to pace "I asked her when she first found out if she would let me change her, but she turned me down. As the pain got worse, I begged her to let me do it. Each time she politely refused me."

"I'm surprised she didn't accept." He heard a tiny bit of amazement in her voice, "If I had been her, I would have done anything to stay alive, to be with my son and the man I loved."

He knew she spoke the truth. Her actions in that clearing so long ago, giving herself to him so he could change her and able her to seek her revenge, was proof enough of what she would do for love.

He twisted his neck from side to side, the muscles tight with tension. "She didn't think she was strong enough to live for eternity, no matter how much she was loved."
The weight of his memories fell heavily on him. "Those last days I was with Susan from dusk to dawn, cursing that I had to sleep and miss precious time with her. I can't explain the pain I felt watching her with her son, of seeing the look on her face as she told Chad that she loved him, knowing that it could be the last time she ever said it."

Rachel sniffled and out of the corner of his eye he saw her wipe her cheeks. "What happen to Chad?"

He rubbed the center of his chest. "After the funeral, which I couldn't attend because of daylight, apparently some distant relative of Susan's came to the house and packed a couple of his suitcases for him and took him home with her family."

"Did you even get to say goodbye to him?

He shook his head sharply, "No, and he wouldn't have wanted to see me anyhow."

She tilted her head as she asked, "Did he not get along with you, Nicholas?"

The taste of guilt filled his mouth. Chad had never asked him for a thing in those years before Susan became sick except to be loved. The boy had really needed a father in his life, not that he could be considered a father figure. Then the one thing that the boy did ask of him, begged of him to do, he couldn't do it. "Chad asked me to go against his mother's wishes and force the change on her. I refused him time and time again. The last time I saw him was minutes after Susan died." He gulped, swallowed the lump in his throat. "He hated me, Rachel. The look on his young face told me so, and his words drove the point home."

He didn't see how, but her face became paler. "I, I don't understand. How did the little boy know that you could do anything about saving his mother?"

"Susan thought it was best to tell him that I was a vampire, so he knew that I had the ability to change her."

Her brows came together. "That was awful risky to tell a child, don't you think?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I thought about it and figured that if he told anyone that they would think it was only a child telling stories." He lifted another sheet off of a plush rocking chair. "I guess she was right in telling him. Could have been a disaster if he had seen me during the day and thought I was dead."

Rachel sat with her leg tucked beneath her and her other stretched out over the cushions of the sofa while leaning back against the arm. "Have you kept tabs on him?"

"Of course. I didn't know anything about the woman or her family that took him in." He plopped down into the rocker, his dark head resting against the high seatback. "I would have kept him if there had been a way for me to do it. I loved him like he was my own." He fought his renewed anger and failed, slamming his fist down on the arm of the chair. "Like it wasn't bad enough that I lost Susan to death, but I had to lose Chad too. He was my only link to her. Even if he hated me for not turning his mother, I still loved him."

He pulled the thin leather tie from around his ponytail. The black locks fell like a dark waterfall around him as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands. "I don't know what he's doing now. I can't find him, haven't been able to find him in two years. It's like he's disappeared off the face of the earth." Now that he knew who was the killer, he desperately needed to find him before someone else he knew, that he cared about, ended up dead.

Her touch was cool on his chin and he looked up. "I don't want to ask this, but do you think that the killer may have found him?"

He snapped his eyes shut and threw up all the metal blocks he had within his mind so that, if she decided to look, she wouldn't be able to find the truth. One slow easy breath out and back in and he said, "I know that Chad is still alive, I just don't know where."

Her fingertips moved to his temple and lightly massaged. Her touch soothed him, made him wish that the killer was caught and in prison, paying for all the death he'd caused. Her touch made him wish that Rachel and him were far off alone without any worries so that they could talk, touch and love each other.

She traced the jagged scar that ran beneath his beard and then sank to her knees. Her palms surrounded his face and then she kissed him. He didn't know if she meant for it to ease his past hurts and to heal him, but it did, more than any words she could have spoken.

Her lips trembled on his before she pulled away. Her long black lashes dusted her cheeks and lifted. She paid for that healing kiss. Though her mouth formed a soft smile, her eyes held the truth.

She stood and backed away, her hands sliding into the rear pockets of her jeans. "I, I'm going for a walk." Then she turned and vanished through the screen door without making a sound.

He still felt the presence of her kiss, tasted it with his tongue as he licked his lips. Hoping that she was still near enough to hear his voice he said, "I'm not sorry that I loved Susan, Rachel, but I'm sorry that it hurt you."

***

Damn I hate waiting, Roni thought as she lay in bed staring at the ceiling. For what seemed like the hundredth time she glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. She had to give John enough time to settle down and fall asleep before she could get started on her plan.

The minutes crept by till she silently moved from the bed. Her motions were slow as she gritted her teeth against the pain of trying to dress in the new jeans and pink tank top that Kelly had bought her. The wound in her shoulder screamed in protest to the excessive movements that she had made.

She grabbed the note she had written last night before going to sleep and soundlessly stepped into the hall. Downstairs she gathered up a few items to take with her for food, a couple of sodas and a bag to carry it all in.

John's key ring lay on the counter and she palmed it with out a rattle and left the note in its place. She didn't say much in the note other than she was sorry for taking the car and that she hoped that they would understand and forgive her.

So far she was lucky that John or little Sarah hadn't heard her moving around in the house, but now came the tricky part. One thing in her favor was that the garage sat on the opposite side of the house away from the bedrooms.

In front of her were two vehicles, a Jeep and a rather sedate family type car. She bit her lip trying to choose. The Jeep would take a lot of gas but then she was heading into the mountains. The car, on the other hand, would be less noticeable and easier on fuel.

Inside the Jeep she adjusted the seat and mirrors, found the garage door opener, and then took a deep breath. "Please, please have a full tank of gas." She turned the key and started the engine; eyes clued to the gauge and whooped when the needle went all the way to the full sign.

Nervous, she pressed the button and watched in the rearview mirror as the garage door lifted up. The mechanism was so loud to her that she just knew it would wake, not only John, but also the whole damn neighborhood.

She let the idle of the motor ease her down the drive as the garage door closed in front of her. Once in the street, she put too much pressure on the gas pedal and squealed the tires. "Fuck!"

Roni was scared to death behind the wheel of the big vehicle. She didn't have much experience driving and felt like she was rolling down the road in a tank. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel, her arms stiff as she weaved her way through the light traffic on the city streets. On the highway the sweat rolled down her spine and every time an eighteen wheeler passed her she screamed, thinking that she was about to be ran over.

Two hours into her drive she had to find a place to stop. She exited from the highway and found a small gas station and parked off to the side of the red brick building. In the quiet she leaned her aching head against the wheel, fighting tears that threatened to fall from tight and throbbing muscles of her neck and the pounding wound in her shoulder.

If not for the tainted smell of gasoline, she would have enjoyed the light breeze blowing through the window. Her stomach growled and reminded her that she hadn't taken the time to eat breakfast. Reaching into the back seat for the bag of food, she spread peanut butter on a half of dozen crackers and ate.

She felt better with a full stomach. Her nerves had calmed a bit until she came out of the restroom and saw a police car parked at the fuel pumps.

Her palms grew damp as she double-checked every thing, including her seatbelt before she started up and pulled away. Back on the highway she didn't stop biting on her lower lip till she was five miles down the road with no signs of the police car behind her.

When John had talked to Rachel and that other man about the trip to the vacation house he said that it would take about five hours to drive. For her it took seven. When she got off the highway onto the twisting back roads that led into the mountains her speed slowed down considerably. Other cars passed her, drivers honking their horns and flipping her the finger as they drove by, but she didn't trust herself to drive the posted speed limit.

After one wrong turn she finally arrived at the home that matched the description of what John had said. Her hands trembled and her knees nearly buckled when she stepped from the Jeep. "Thank god, I made it." She whispered in relief, leaning back against the car door and looking at her surroundings.

She had never been out of the city. The closest she had ever got was the park, but it was nothing like this. She learned that the sound of nature made her ears throb. It was too quiet. None of the noise that she was use to existed. No cars, no crowds and no loud music, nothing to which she'd grown accustom to as a part of her life on the street.

The air was so fresh that when she took a deep breath it made her cough. It didn't hold the smell and the taste of smog from traffic and factories, the smell of urine from the alley where she slept, or the mixture of scents coming from the street vendors selling food at noon.