Copyright Notice: Certain characters in this story are borrowed from others.  Nick, Natalie, LaCroix, Joe Reese, Janette, Tracy (and all other scenes and people from "Forever Knight") are the property of Sony-Tristar. Xena and Gabrielle are from the show "Xena Warrior Princess" which is a product of Renaissance Studios and Studios USA. They were created by Rob Tapert and John Schulian.   The other characters are of my own creation. Any use of a real name is only coincidental.

My thanks to Portia and Jarvinia for their careful beta-reading of this text. Their insights have greatly improved the story that you are about to read.

I give permission for this story to be archived.  Anyone who is interested, please feel free to send me an email (just so I know who's interested! :) )

Preface [Queen's Hut--Amazon Village 83AD]

Gabrielle, Bard-Queen of the Amazons, writes....

In the days following Xena's reemergence, she and Angela learned to live together and formed a unique bond.  For months, they managed to live quietly not provoking any situations.  However, a trip to a city called Toronto pushed them into the forefront and into the sight of an ancient adversary of ours.  This is the story of Xena's "Coming Out Party"--as David likes to call it....

Chapter 1

Always busy with the task of chasing criminals, it had been a long week for everyone in the department for all concerned. For example, five murders had occurred in the city over that period, forcing every homicide detective to scramble for clues. Nick and his partner, Tracy Vetter, were involved heavily in this activity. With persistence and instinct, they had deciphered the clues and hunted down their suspects. 

But, in one case, the perpetrator was a thirteen-year old gang member. While attempting to rob an elderly Jewish gentleman about 10 PM one evening, the kid decided that his victim struggled too much and shot him dead. He took off with the two partners in pursuit. Eventually, after a running chase that covered several blocks, they cornered him in a dark alleyway. The kid fired and winged Tracy with a lucky shot. She aimed for his leg and returned fire. However, as he attempted to duck the shot, their quarry put his chest right in line with her bullet. Eventually, Rogers and Wilkerson from Internal Affairs cleared her of any wrongdoing. But, Tracy's forced desk duty increased Nick's load a great deal. As he discovered, even vampires could get tired from too much stress. 

One night late in the week, he entered the precinct building after checking out a crime scene.  Heartened by the lack of paperwork on his desk, Nick set himself down behind his desk and reviewed his notes. 

Just then, across the room, the door to Captain Joe Reese's office opened and he walked out into the bullpen with a cup in hand, heading for the water dispenser.

Nick shook his head. Some people never learn, he mused while continuing to study his notes.

Reese put the cup under the spout and pushed the button. Nothing came out but then, nothing ever did where he and this particular fountain were concerned. The captain silently fumed over this continuing development. "Okay," he sighed. "This just fits right in with the rest of this week. What's going to happen next?" Then, he noticed Nick and walked over to where the detective sat.

"Are those the notes to the Horowitz homicide?" Reese inquired.

Nick looked up from his reading. "Hmm?...They are the notes from that case. Just putting together some observations for profiling," he explained.

The captain nodded. "Great! Get these sleezebags off of my streets and I'll give you that vacation that you wanted."

That remark brightened Nick's mood considerably. Despite the best cajoling of the Human Resources office, he rarely took any time off. Usually, he enjoyed his job and his friends.  However, as Nat had noted lately, Nick was suffering from burnout. He needed a break...desperately. 

"Hey Nick. Are you okay?" Reese probed. Nick had been wandering deeper and deeper into that Twilight Zone lately. Too deep for his captain's liking....

"I'm fine. Really." Nick grinned cheerfully.

Reese nodded and sat down on the corner of the desk. "I'm glad to hear that Nick. I know that these past two weeks with Tracy's situation and the workload have been tough. I gotta commend you for getting through it. But, even you have your limits,," he told his detective. "Give yourself a break". Then, he remembered something. "By the way, Natalie wanted you to check in with her. She said that there was something about the case."

Nick jumped up and grabbed his coat. "Thanks Cap. I'll see you later." He hurried towards the door.

Reese watched him leave and shook his head. "I do hope that he takes my advice," he muttered and walked back into the bullpen.

**************************************************************************
Dr. Natalie Lambert stood over the latest victim of the mysterious murder spree. Dr. Ephraim Horowitz, one of Toronto's finest and most respected physicians, had recently accepted an award from Harvard University for his research on white blood cell counts and combating rare diseases. Natalie had found some promising leads for Nick's situation in his notes and had set up an appointment to discreetly talk with her medical colleague about various possibilities. That is...until he had been found stabbed to death and bereft of his wallet and golden pocket watch in the warehouse district.

Boy, you never know, do you? she pondered. We were supposed to meet tomorrow in your office and here, probably because of your watch and money, you are in mine. What is this world coming to anyway? She moved the lamp over his corpse and picked up the tiny handheld cassette recorder.

"Subject's name is Dr. Ephraim Horowitz. Male Caucasian, about 5 feet, 7 inches tall, weight at about 170 pounds. Subject is 54 years of age and seemed in good physical condition. Cause of death seems to be multiple stab wounds: 2 in the chest, 1 in the back," she established and hit the red stop button on her recorder. 

She was about to probe a bit more when a knock sounded at the door. She was glad to see that Nick was there.

"Hi, Nat," he greeted with a warm smile. "The captain mentioned that you wanted to see me about the Horowitz case."

"Right," she agreed and motioned for him to join her at the table. Using a set of tweezers from the nearby medical tray, she revealed the broken golden chain in his waistcoat.

"Another robbery," he surmised.

"You got it. Looks like our group has struck again," she indicated. "By the way, there's a red handkerchief here just like with the other murders.

"Another red handkerchief?" he wondered. Now that wasn't in the report..... He opened the file and reviewed his notes. Sure enough, this piece of evidence had eluded him at the crime scene.

"Just like the other five. The killer keeps signing his work with them," she continued her analysis. Then, she noticed the far-off look in his eyes. "Uh Nick, are you there?" she asked.

He snapped out of his reverie. "Huh? Oh...what did you say?" he asked startled.

She sighed with concern. Like Reese, Natalie had been really concerned about Nick for the past few weeks. These mounting homicides had come fresh on the heels of Tracy's situation. Worse still, it had not yet been a full month since Divia had terrorized the vampire community, killing many and damaging still other psyches. Nick and LaCroix had survived their sister/mother/daughter's attack but not without cost. In Nick's case, the busy caseload in addition to Tracy's injury had given him no respite. He definitely needed some time off.

"I said that it was just like the other five incidents. Are you all right?" she repeated herself.

"I'm fine. Just a bit distracted. I'll get over it," he assured her.

"Uh huh." She nodded, although not convinced. "You have been through an emotional roller coaster. Nick, you do need some time off."

"Reese said that after this case, I could take my vacation," he noted defensively.

And where have I heard that before? she thought derisively. She looked her friend in the eye. "The department owes you a ton of sick time. Don't you think that it's time you took some of it?" she commented candidly.

Before Nick could answer, the wall phone rang shrilly. "Hold that thought," she directed and answered the call. "Lambert."

"Doctor, it's Captain Reese. Is Nick there yet?" Reese asked.

"He just got here. What's up?" she inquired.

"I need to talk to him. Can you put him on?" he asked.

"Sure thing. Hang on," she agreed and handed the phone to Nick. "The Captain wants to talk to you."

He nodded and put the receiver against his ear. "Knight here. What can I do for you, Captain?"

"I wanted to tell you that there's going to be a holdup on that report from Downtown. I'd rather that you take off and go home for the rest of the evening. You obviously could use the rest. So book off, and I'll see you tomorrow evening. Gotta go." There was a click and a dial tone.

Nick hung the receiver in its cradle and turned back to Natalie. "Report's been held up downtown," he explained.

Sensing that there was more than that, Natalie pushed further. "And?"

"And....he wants me to book off and go home," he shrugged. "Apparently, he agrees with you."

Anyone who has watched you over the past two weeks would agree with us," she noted.  "Look, I'll stop by the loft later if I find anything. Okay?"

He nodded. Leave it to Nat to wrangle a compromise from this situation. "Sounds good.  Okay." He picked his overcoat off of a nearby stool. "See you later."

"Just make sure that you go home and rest," she told him directly. "Doctor's orders."

He smiled and walked from the examination room.

For a long while, Natalie stared at the doorway through which he had exited the room.  Finally, she sighed deeply and went back to work on the Horowitz body, determined to find something positive towards this case.

Chapter 2

Nick walked out of the Forensics building under a mental cloud. True, he was exhausted, but the loft did not appeal to him. At least not at this point. He looked at his watch...2:30 AM. There was another place to drive to. Gunning the Caddy's ignition, Nick sped away into the night.

***********************************************************

The Raven served the warehouse district's nighttime denizens with dance and drinking. Despite the recent efforts of politicians to close its doors after an Egyptian grave robber's head was found in one of its coolers, the Gothic nightclub had stood firm in its mission. Once inside, the patron experienced the rapid strobe lights, possibly the best collection of aged wines behind its bar and a unique group of regulars. However, there was more to this place than met the eye at first glance. In addition to the mortal visitors, this establishment also protected the vampire community. Although no longer its proprietor, Janette duCharme had stopped in occasionally to readjust to life as a vampire and to insure that others would have a place. The new proprietor, Lucien LaCroix, despite not sharing the same exact priority as his former protégé, did what he could to insure the community's survival.

Nick entered the club in a daze. He looked around, absent-mindedly running his hand along the chain link rail. Between Divia's attack and the Fever, many of the elder vampires had fallen by the wayside. Now, the younger crowd danced without care in their place. Nick didn't recognize anyone, so he wandered down the stairs and headed for the bar. Janette's absence certainly left a void in this place, he mused. 

The bartender recognized Nick as he approached. Just after the latter sat down, a glass of cow blood was placed in front of him. "Thank you," the vampire detective accepted tiredly.

The vampire behind the bar nodded, "My pleasure. Let me know if you would like anything else." He spotted another customer and walked off.

Nick sat for a while nursing the glass's contents. Something certainly did feel different .. or was it just him? All beings changed in response to life's challenges. This rule applied to immortals as well as humans. His human friends had been wondering about the effects of the previous two weeks on him. But was it just the past two weeks? Or were those confrontations just the collective spark setting off the proverbial powder keg? He had led a double life for the past six years, always concealing his true identity and powers from all save a chosen few individuals. Such effort would tire anyone. 

In addition, his fight with Divia had left him drained. While his victory had forced several members of the Community to realize that his quest held some merit, the direct struggle between his vampire nature and his conscience taxed him. Given his blood fasting, brokering the cooperation between the two sides almost killed him. What was it that Jeanne had said so many years ago? That his faith would be there waiting for him to reclaim ? Why was it so hard? Then, he remembered a conversation with another exile while at Oxford in the early 1300s. Dante--yes, that's who it was. The Tuscan author was in the midst of revelations, some of which he had shared with Nick. In particular, the vision of the heavenly wall of fire (later forming a crucial transition in the Purgatorio) grabbed Nick's attention. No redemption would be had without purging the soul. And wasn't that the angel of light's message during his near death experience of a year ago? 

"So many questions, so few answers, " he sighed and took a healthy gulp of blood.

Suddenly, a familiar presence broke his reverie. He turned back towards the door and saw Janette enter the club. This was a surprise. She had not made an appearance here in a few weeks. He watched her pick a table and settle into an oak chair. After a moment's hesitation, he bit the bullet and walked over to join her.

"Excuse me Janette.... Is it all right?" he asked nervously. After all, she had been upset with him for bringing her back across.

Janette looked up at her friend/former lover/new absentee master. Certainly, these weren't the old days when she would have greeted him enthusiastically and provided a shoulder for him to lean on. Now, there was a mixture of sorrow and anger in her gaze. She motioned for him to sit down across from her.

"I might as well ask Serena for some conversation," he thought glumly.

"You might, Nicolas," Janette replied matter-of-factly and sipped her bloodwine. "But she won't talk to you. No, I might have some issues with you for my renewed condition but I do not wish you dead, mon Cher." She let her eyes sparkle briefly at him. "I know that you need a balance in your life between the doctor and myself. And I have realized that your intention was to preserve my very being ."

"You met Serena?" Nick asked.

Janette allowed herself a brief ironic smile. "Oui. It was right after the War. In the midst of the celebration, I briefly ran into her outside of a Paris nightclub. She asked me about my thoughts on being a vampire. She also asked me about how I felt about you. When she explained her feelings, I did not understand at that point ."

"But now you do," he guessed.

"Yes I do. Oh, Nicolas, I realize that you mean well," she sighed.

He shook his head sadly. How many people had he hurt over the centuries? 

Janette placed her hand on his. " But what is that saying--about the road to Hell and good intentions? You should consider others' feelings and be more careful in your decision making," she advised. "Just think about what others truly want."

"Did you think that I wanted this?" he flushed. "I wanted you. I wanted pleasure, not for LaCroix to bring me across."

She nodded knowingly. "I know. If you had brought me across for spite, I would hate you for eternity. But, during my recent travels, I have come to the realization that you did not, nor would you do so." She smiled.

"Then, we can be friends?" he asked pensively.

"Of course! Don't be silly! I just need more time Nicola to readjust," she agreed. "On another matter, I am worried about both you and LaCroix ..," she noted.

Nick stared at her for a moment. "I know that the Divia situation bothered him. But is she still on his mind?"

She shrugged. "Since I am no longer his `daughter', I am not privy to such things. Go to him and talk a while. It might help you both."

He nodded and rose from the table. "I'll do that. Thanks. And thank you for talking," he smiled warmly.

"My pleasure. Do feel better," she responded and tipped her glass to his health while he walked away.

***************************************************

LaCroix turned the switch off on his radio console. It had been another successful night for the Nightcrawler. The topic had been about dreams--were they reminders of the past, harbingers of the future, both, or just rubbish? As usual, the faithful followers had rung the phone off the hook. However, the discussion had been more animated than the norm as opinions diverged widely. One woman had claimed that she had foreseen meeting her current boyfriend in a dream vision. Another listener denied the veracity of such things.  For four hours, the vampire DJ had listened to the mortals with great curiosity and delight. They were so easy to arouse, after all.... But finally, it was 3 AM: bedtime for good little mortals. So as the good father to all, he bade them good night.

The discussion provided a welcome respite from his own thoughts. For the past month, LaCroix had been haunted by memories and visions long buried. Memories of his mortal life as a Roman general and citizen...past triumphs and failures. Divia's appearance had wrought more damage than even he could have imagined. What was worse? Watching his daughter kill those vampires around him? Watching her and Nicholas reenact the ancient story of Cain and Abel? Or watching as Nicholas staked her? True, it was a necessary evil...but did his failure to help Divia indict him of the same crime that he himself had accused her?

Then there was Nicholas.... His golden child...his favorite...Always causing such pain and grief with his quixotic search for a cure. But lately, he had surpassed himself. Besides killing Divia, he had faced Francesca, another of his blood children in a recent act of his police drama. This drama had ended with her...or rather the man she had possessed...impaled through the heart. Death had used his son as his agent. Despite the fact that he had returned his Janette to the fold, Nicholas was proving to be a neglectful father. Yes, I will have to speak with him about these things... he decided. After all, a father's work was never done..... 

The familiar vibration strummed itself across his senses. He smiled with satisfaction. "Nicholas....How good of you to stop by. What is this now? Four times this week? You had best be careful. One might think that this newly rediscovered attraction for your kind might be addictive..," he baited to the darkness without turning.

Nick stood in the doorway sensing his former master's presence even before the latter's verbal barb had stung him. "Why do I put myself through this?" he sighed and started to turn away.

LaCroix gained a sense of his protégé's depression. These mortals were dragging Nicholas down....especially the Doctor with her constant futile attempts to cure him. "Nicholas...please....do stay," he requested.

Nick turned to face the elder vampire. "I listened to your show tonight....," he started.

LaCroix smiled. "How flattering. Quite a discussion tonight, was it not?"

"Indeed it was," Nick agreed. "Quite a range of views in the audience."

"As on most nights," LaCroix shrugged and took another sip of wine. "Get to the point."

"I was wondering....I have been getting strange feelings from you lately," Nick noted honestly.

LaCroix's brow arched. This was definitely noteworthy. "Continue...What have you been feeling?" he inquired.

"You have been having the dreams again. I remember then from our first days together.  About Greece... Corinth... Pompeii...Rome and Gaul. I also see a woman fighting you sword to sword," Nick explained.

This observation definitely encouraged LaCroix. Was this a sign that Nicholas was drawing closer to him once again? No...leave the question for now. The boy was definitely on a roll. He had been tuned into his thoughts. For that very dream had caused him to bring the topic up on the Nightcrawler program that evening.

"Yes....I did fight in those places, first as a Roman centurion and then as a general. The woman you saw...her name was Xena. She definitely had potential...." 

Nick observed disappointment on his counterpart's face. "But..?" he interrupted the other's thoughts.

"But...she overcame her dark purpose, no thanks to her companion, an overly talkative bard named Gabrielle," he continued as scorn crept across his face. "Xena and I faced each other at Corinth. She wanted revenge for what my army had done to the Gauls." He smiled.  "What a battle. She thought me dead."

"But obviously, you were not..," Nick prodded.

"No, my vampire nature saved me. I was incapacitated for a while but not permanently injured," LaCroix explained. "It was my last battle however....my time to move on." He let those words drag in the air.

Nick shook his head. He could see a lecture coming and it would be something else....

"Is it time, Nicholas?" LaCroix posed the question thoughtfully. "Is it time for you to move on? So much pain...agony."

"I have my friends...my life," Nick countered.

"Your so-called life is but a play thing. How many times must I tell you that?" LaCroix patiently advised. "No, over stay your welcome and you will get hurt."

"That's not it," Nick denied vehemently. "I have been wondering about good and evil. Where is the line?"

"'Line'?" LaCroix looked at him slightly confused.

"The boundary between them," Nick clarified his meaning.

Now LaCroix grasped his son's intent. "Yes. I see," he started and took another gulp of wine. It was so amusing when Nicholas tried his hand at philosophy. "Good and evil are mortal concepts, Nicholas. We are above them. Who can say whether our intentions are one or the other? It is only from our point of view....Now, I see where your depression is coming from. Still trying to separate the guilty from the innocent, are we?" Another sip and more words.... "Get over it. We have bigger worries...you and I," he continued.

Nick looked at the clock and saw that it was getting on towards 5 AM. "Well, sunrise is coming so I'll be leaving," he sought to extricate himself from this conversation.

"Yes....I suppose," LaCroix suggested. "Thank you for stopping by Nicholas. Do take care."

Nick nodded and left the room and the restaurant. While driving home, he certainly had a great deal to think about. A great deal indeed.....

Chapter 3

David Dubois sat at his desk anxiously pouring over a manuscript on his desk. In his three years as the Humanities librarian and history liaison at the University of Arizona, he had seen many sources and had scanned many of them into the growing Electronic Resource Center two floors beneath him. Now, he analyzed a diaries of an old friend...one of his professors, actually. Before he died, Tony Samuelsohn had passed along the memoirs for Dave's analysis. There were many secrets in the world. These items were beyond the mortal pale...well, for most people at least. 

Dave was, to say the least, not a normal human being. He had experienced many things from a young age. Visions...unexplained knowledge of the future...a oneness with nature.  Only recently, he had learned that these were unique traits...and that he was different. A recent confrontation with terrorists at the New York Museum of Natural History had provoked him with two results. First, his powers had surfaced for the first time. The second unfortunate consequence was the reemergence of his own inner darkness. Abused as a child by his parents for his differences, Dave's psyche had split into two parts. Most of the time, his outer persona helped people and performed good works. However, in the face of danger or intimidation, the Dark Child asserted control. If one could imagine the ferocity of a wounded animal, then that person would know of the seething rage within this entity. Worse still, while the dominant persona was good, the Child fed off of darkness. Needless to say, it could be interesting to be around him.

The alarm clock on his desk buzzed loudly. "Hmm...5 PM," Dave noted. "Time to head off to meditation." Having made this decision, the memoirs went back into a locked box under his desk and he took his coat off of the hook. He flipped the lights off in his office and was about to leave when he heard a rapping at the door.

"Yes?" he asked.

"David? It's Caitlin. Have a minute? This won't take that long," Caitlin Sommers, the Library's dean, requested.

He turned the lights back on and sat down in his chair. "Please..," he offered her the blue cushioned guest chair in front of his desk.

"Thank you," she accepted, and settled into her chair. "I was wondering how everything has been going."

"Fine," he shrugged half-truthfully. Things had been going well for the past few weeks.  However, if she ever did find out about his problem...well, things could get hairy.

"You seem to be doing great. David, don't be so uptight about yourself," she assured him, and held up a thick spiral bound report. "This collection development project was wonderful!"

"I'm sure that it could have been better. I missed some data," he commented insecurely.

Caitlin flipped through the pages and kept 'uh-huhing' to herself finally stated, "We need to work on that".

Oh great. "Work on what, pray tell?" he asked her.

She peered at him over the top of the report. "That inferiority complex of yours. You are better than you give yourself credit for. Even when you were a student here, it was always that you were never good enough. I have heard about these things. Now, let's start getting some confidence. Okay?"

"Yes. I understand," he sighed. "At least she believes in me."

"In fact, I have a job for you...and if you like, you can take Angie and the girls," Caitlin continued. "I need a representative for the library at the MSC meeting next week in Toronto. There will be some presentations that I want you to look at. Besides..." A smile crossed her face. "I figured that it would be a busman's holiday for you. Interested?"

"You bet! Of course, I'll need to talk to Angie first. But, I don't think that there will be any problems," he agreed enthusiastically.

"Good. Well, I need to run to another meeting. Take care," she beamed, and started to leave the room. As she stepped through the doorway. "Remember...think confidence," she reminded him over her shoulder.

"Yes'm," he replied humbly.

"Great. Have a good night and I'll see you tomorrow," she concluded, and left.

Well, that's a relief.  He walked downstairs and out of the library foyer. Once outside, a five minute walk down the hill found him in the parking garage where his lemon-colored 1982 Subaru GL sat waiting for him. Cranking the motor, he sped off into the Sonoran sunset.

***************************************

About 15 miles west of Tucson on the old Ajo Road, Dr. Angela Dubois fretted over her husband's tardiness. He was never late for their Wednesday night workout and meditation session. Where is he? she worried. Hopefully, Caitlin didn't detain him in a late meeting or something.

She composed herself. As one of the leading oncologists in the country, Dr. Dubois, or Angie as she was known to her friends, worked hard for 10 hours a day, 6 days a week on her patients' behalf. She tirelessly performed her rounds and worked on new research techniques for curing rare cancers. However, of late, she had other concerns. As with her husband, Angie had run into trouble. She had discovered her own psychic nature and how that power augmented her ability to cure people and animals. However, other things had happened as well. She reached over her right shoulder and pulled a fine, well-crafted Thracian sword from the hilt strapped to her back. She let out a deep breath as she recalled how, in the museum attack, she had shattered a glass display case to get at this weapon...and got more than she had bargained for. While she had the weapon, she also bonded with the spirit of Xena of Amphipolis, the legendary Warrior Princess of ancient Greece. It was an adjustment...sharing one's body with another person.

["I wouldn't worry, Angela," Xena's voice advised. "David knows how important this is."]

Angie smiled and turned to see her friend's shimmering form off to her left. "Nice to see you, Xena. Here to keep me company?"

"Always," the Warrior Princess grinned. "You're a pleasure to be around."

"Well thanks. Sorry that I have been a little skittish with you but..." Angie started to apologize.

"No apology necessary," Xena accepted. "You have enough on your mind these days.  Dealing with David's darkness is hard."

"Now I know how Gabrielle must have felt when you two first got together," Angie realized. "Oh...I'm sorry Xena. I didn't mean..." 

Her friend shrugged. "It's true. But Gabrielle guided me down the right path and you will do the same for David. Trust me and in yourself," she urged.

Angie smiled, "When you say it, I believe it."

"You bet," Xena smiled encouragingly. Then, a horn sounded in the distance. Turning her spectral head, she saw the little yellow car in the distance. "That looks like him now...Of course, since I haven't figured out these cars yet." She smiled. "I'll  leave you two alone....well, as much as possible. See you soon". With that, she faded from view.

Dave climbed out of the Subaru and walked over to Angie. "Hi, Princess. Sorry I'm late...Caitlin had something to discuss," he explained.

"Was it the report? Did she like it?" she wondered. She knew how hard he had worked on that project.

"She liked the project. And she told me to feel more confident about myself," he continued. "And there's more...There's a medieval meeting in Toronto that she wants me to go to. And she offered to pay for you and the girls! This could be the vacation that we have been waiting for!"

She beamed at her husband. "You think that I'm going to deny you a trip like that?  Especially if its all expenses paid and the whole family goes with you. Count us in, Buster!  I'm sure that Dr. Fishburne will give me the time off".

"Now," he smiled, "Shall we?"

"Yes, by all means..." she agreed. Not sensing any poisonous snakes in the vicinity and, settling into lotus positions, they stretched out with their abilities. In this state, they could sense the vibrations of every rock, cactus, insect, animal and reptile around them. Dave felt a wind ripple the sand about 1000 yards away. A lizard slithered from its burrow. A snake slithered up...and decided to move on. This activity helped to cleanse him and somehow calmed the Child. No one knew why or how, but they were not about to question the effect. Angie felt the birds flying high and fast above her as well as the lizard and snake. She loved this experience and was glad that they undertook this ritual once a week. She felt so light as if she were flying high above the desert floor.

They stayed in this state for an hour. Then, they slowly pulled themselves back into their conscious states.

"Back to regular life," she surmised matter-of-factly.

"How are the girls?" Dave asked.

"They're fine. Francesca has them. By the way, she's making her lasagna tonight," Angie smiled as she found her car keys.

Dave beamed and his mouth watered. Dr. Francesca Alvaro was one of the leading Dante scholars in the world and, to boot, she could also make killer Italian cuisine. Someday, if we get over to Lucca again, I have to get Aunt Louisa to teach me.  he decided while starting the Subaru and following close behind Angie's Mazda sedan.

Chapter 4

A week later, American Airlines Flight 5742 touched down in Toronto, carrying the Dubois family with it. While in the taxi to the hotel, Dave looked about the city. Toronto seemed like many American cities. Their hotel, the Camille, stood on the waterfront. While the rooms were modern, the building's exterior reflected its 1930's ambiance.

Angie had just put their daughters to bed before joining Dave on the terrace. From there, they saw the city's lights and the tall skyscrapers through the gathering twilight. 

"Kind of nice, isn't it?" she whispered in his ear.

He smiled and hugged her shoulders. "Sure is," he agreed.

"I thought that I would take the girls out touring," she informed him.

He nodded. "Sure, just be careful. Okay?"

"I will be," she promised. "But let's just enjoy the view. Okay?" She produced a pair of wine glasses. On the table chilled a bottle of white zinfandel in an ice bucket.

"You are something else," he laughed.

"I try." she grinned, enjoying the moment and handed him a full glass. Then she made a toast. "To us...and our time in this beautiful city. May we make many new friends....and reestablish old ties."

"Hear...hear," he agreed, and took a healthy swig of the champagne. 

Although neither of them knew at that point, Angie's toast would indeed prove prophetic. 

****************************************************

Dave had left very early on the following morning, but he had been careful not to wake his wife. Angie slept a little while longer. "Mmmmm....Dave?" she murmured sleepily. Then she rolled over on her side with a grunt and squinted at the bedside clock. "9 o' clock...gee...He's at the meeting already."

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. She wrapped herself in her terrycloth robe and ambled towards the door. "Yes?" she asked.

"Dr. Dubois? Room service," a voice answered.

Angie peered through the peephole and saw a waiter dressed in a silver tuxedo standing in the hallway.

"Okay, just a minute," she acknowledged and opened the door. "Thank you," she smiled as he brought the tray and coffee urn into the room. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing, Madam. Your husband took care of it and the gratuity. Have a very nice day." the waiter informed her and left.

Angie lifted the cover off of the tray and discovered the gourmet apple and cherry danishes underneath. The urn, as she discovered, had chocolate-raspberry coffee in it. "Oh, he is something else!" she giggled pleasantly. Before succumbing to these temptations, Angie went to check on the twins and found them still sound asleep. "Dream on, ladies," she purred and returned to the front room to indulge herself.

**********************************************

Two hours later, Angie wheeled the oversized baby carriage around the downtown section of the city. She smelled the clean air and admired the historic buildings.

"This is something," she sang. "Toronto's a great city. Don't you think so, girls?"

Karen and Lauren smiled at her. Deirdre cooed contentedly.

"Well, I'm glad that you agree," Angie concurred. "Well, before we meet Daddy for lunch, let's see what money we have." She went through her purse. "Whoops! No money! We will have to go to the bank and get some more. Can't keep your father waiting."

Two blocks away stood the First Bank of Ontario, and destiny....

Chapter 5

The First National Bank of Ontario's main headquarters had stood in Toronto's financial district for over 50 years. Other businesses had come and gone, but this financial establishment remained a stabilizing force for the region. On this day, patrons lined up inside to make their transactions.

Angie, like everyone else, patiently waited for her turn. Within 45 minutes, the teller had converted her traveler's check and handed her the money with a pleasant smile. Thanking her, Angie wheeled the carriage away from the window.

"All set, ladies," she explained to her little cadre. "Let's go into the bathroom and check our diapers." Spying the bathroom in the far corner of the lobby, she wheeled the carriage into it and locked the door behind them.

Meanwhile, a dark navy 1993 Ford Voyager van pulled up outside of the bank. Inside, five men dressed in black outfits and ski masks waited for their leader's word. This man was watching the lobby through a set of binoculars and waiting for the proper moment.

Finally, after 5 minutes, he turned his masked face back towards the squad. "Ready?" he asked.

Everyone nodded.

"Good...let's go...and make it quick!" he ordered while brandishing his revolver.

As one, the gang charged into the building. The leader fired several shots into the air causing everyone to cower for their own safety.

"All right ladies and gentlemen...This here is a real robbery, so everyone get on the floor now!" he ordered. 

Everyone complied with his command. However, Josh McTavish, the elderly bank guard, drew his weapon. 

The leader smiled and shot him dead with a single round.

"Any other heroes?" he growled. "I didn't think so. Start filling these bags with cash and valuables now!" His goons started towards the customers with greedy intentions....

***************************************

In the bathroom, Angie heard the commotion. Oh gosh! I'm stuck! she panicked. What would Dave do? Then she winced. No...losing one's cool isn't an option. She took a deep breath and looked around. She noticed an empty latrine stall and three doors leading directly to the lobby, to a hallway and then the lobby and the alley behind the building. "If I try to go out the back door, they will have someone there. So what do I do?" she muttered.

["Try letting me fight back," Xena suggested. "I'm due for a workout."]

Angie deliberated for a long minute. Then, she looked at her friend's image. "Okay, let's do it," she agreed. She took the girls and locked them in the stall. "Be good girls, now.  Stay quiet. Momma will be right back," she assured them.

It was ominously quiet in the lobby. Angie called up every bit of bravery that she possessed. "Okay, let's rip!" she asserted and pulled the invisible Thracian sword from its scabbard. With a hefty dose of concentration, a bright flash enveloped Angie. When the light faded, Xena stood in her place.

"Okay, boys," she grimly stated. "It's time to see what I can do." After wedging the doors to the direct lobby and alley entrances shut, Xena peered cautiously into the endangered area from the secluded hallway. Five men. Decent odds, she observed.  Still, I have to remember what Angela told me about these gun things. 

She took a deep breath and, with a running start, executed a double back flip and her screeching battle cry to enter the room. "Oh, boys...," she slurred malevolently.

The smallest man of the bunch laughed, "Hey boss, take a look at this!"

The leader shook his head and clicked the safety back off on his weapon. "Another one?  What is this...Halloween?" Then, he surveyed the Warrior Princess. "Nice Xena outfit. I'll bury you in it!" he growled and fired off two shots.

Xena dodged his shots with fluid grace. "You and what army?" she baited with an evil smile.

"Me and my boys!" the leader boasted and went to reload his weapon. "Take her guys!"

Xena relished this type of challenge and launched herself into the fray. A right cross knocked one goon senseless. A swinging karate kick disabled two others. A chakram toss took out the fourth criminal as it caromed off of his head and disappeared into the corner.

The leader could not believe this. Somehow, this woman was as good as the real Xena! But he was going to get out of there...with the loot that he held and before the cops arrived. He grabbed an elderly man and pointed his gun at the hostage's head. "I don't believe it. But you aren't getting' me. Now, Pops and I are going for a ride, and you aren't moving. Got it?" he dictated.

Xena's eyes narrowed into slits and her eye brow arched as she watched the criminal leader back towards the door...and right into the chakram's return flight. The weapon caromed off of the man's helmet and knocked him out. The old man fell away safely. Her weapon completed its boomerang arch as it reached her hand. "Got it," she smiled at his unconscious face.

"Everyone all right?" she asked the customers.

They nodded. The old man staggered to his feet and waved gratefully to her. Xena looked down at the dead guard. "Too bad," she sighed mournfully.

The sound of sirens filled the air. "What the...?" she asked with a confused stare around the room.

[From within her head, Angie stated, "It's the police, Xena! Let's go!"]

"Right!" Xena nodded and sprinted towards the hallway door. Once inside, she ripped the door off of the stall, took the girls and wheeled them out into the alley. Then, sure that she was safe from prying eyes, she changed back. Where as the police would notice Xena, Angie slipped into the crowd and away from the crime scene untouched.

Chapter 6

Dave enjoyed the conference activities. He had breakfast with some former classmates that morning. Then, the two early panels on "Trade and Commerce" in the Medieval Mediterranean really grabbed his attention. After all, Economic History was one of his academic passions. These sessions gave him further networking opportunities and the welcome chance to engage in "shop talk". Finally, it was quarter to noon. He remembered that Angie and their daughters would be meeting him in the hotel restaurant for lunch.  Promising his associates that they would meet again on the next day, Dave walked out of the convention area and headed straight for the Eagle Grill, the Camille's five star establishment.

As he walked into the restaurant, the maitre-de, an elderly gentleman dressed in a jet-black tuxedo, came over to him. "May I help you, Monsieur?" he asked.

"Please," Dave accepted. "I have a reservation for Dubois. It will be a party of five."

The restaurant employee looked at his reservations list. "Ah yes! Would you like to wait here or at the table?" he inquired.

"The table would be fine, thank you," Dave indicated pleasantly.

"But, of course," the other nodded and guided him over to the corner dining table. After Dave sat down, the maitre-de handed him the menu. "Something from the bar?" he asked.

"A Diet Coke please," Dave ordered. "Thanks,"

"Certainly, Monsieur. When Madame arrives, I will guide her here as well,"

"Thank you," he smiled and leaned over his notes.

*************************************************

After a while (and three sodas), Dave looked up from his work with concern. He checked his watch...12:45, and Angie had not arrived yet.

I hope that everything's okay. he worried. Then, he made up his mind to check in with her at the hotel. He signaled a nearby waiter.

"Yes sir?" the waiter asked.

"I'm David Dubois. Has my wife checked in yet?" he asked.

"Not that I'm aware of, Sir. You might wish to check with the maitre-de. Also, as you have been waiting for a long while, the bartender will let you use the phone at the bar," the waiter explained and hurried off.

"Okay," he grumbled and felt for his cell phone in his blazer's pocket. "Let's see what we can find out."

Dave walked over to the bar and waited for the bartender. As he lingered, the television showed a special report of the attempted bank robbery. Even more startling was the heroine. 

Xena? Then what about Angie? He slipped away quickly from the crowded area. As luck would have it, his cell phone went off just as he reached a secluded spot behind a giant fern.  It has to be her.  Hello? 

"Dave...it's me," Angie sighed.

"Hey, are you okay?" he inquired curiously.

"Yes, the girls and I are fine. Really," she assured him. "Look, let's talk when you get back here."

He nodded. One never knew just how secure cell phone connections really were. "Right," he concurred. "We'll talk in a few minutes. I'll be right there."

Angie fretted, "Dave, I don't want to make you miss anything important,"

"Don't worry. There's nothing earth-shattering going on here at the conference for the rest of the day. Just let me grab a coffee and I'll see you in 10 minutes," he reassured her and closed the connection.

"Don't worry, he says..." Angie repeated his words wistfully and hung up the phone. She walked out onto the terrace and stared at the city below. "What have I gotten us into?" she wondered, and stared down at the busy streets far below. 

Somehow, her intuition knew that something would come of this misadventure. Something that nobody could have foreseen....

Chapter 7

Nick rolled around restlessly in bed. For much of the past week, he had been unable to sleep.  He groaned and stared at the clock beside him.

"4:30 PM," he noted sleepily, and pulled himself from under the covers. He trudged across the oak floor to the refrigerator and another bottle of cow blood. Opening the bottle, he filled a glass with his nourishment for the evening. Then, with the vampire inside him demanding sustenance, he downed the liquid meal in three swallows.

"Ugh..." he winced in his daily ritual. The cow blood sickened the vampire but at least, it assuaged the conscience...and some of the guilt.

The blinking light on his answering machine beckoned to him from across the room. I wonder...  He  pressed the button to hear its messages.

"You have one message...," the machine stated coldly and played its contents. "Hi, Nick, it's Nat. Are you doing better? You know that you have everyone down here at the precinct worried about you. I have something about the Horowitz case here at the morgue if you would like to stop by. See you later," Natalie reported with concern.

A warm feeling washed over him. Natalie could always make him feel wanted...even if LaCroix and his nightmares were making his life miserable. He decided to get dressed and see what she had discovered.....

**************************************************

Natalie sat behind her desk comparing blood samples from the suspects with the report from the Horowitz homicide. The types definitely matched, the ballistics on the guns were identical and then, the piece of Dr. Horowitz's chain matched the rest of the links with his pocket watch. They had been lucky to catch the whole gang at once....and in the act of robbing a bank no less. But, the heroine bothered her. Who was this person? It seemed that Nick might know something...he seemed to know details on a lot of historical people.

She paced the floor a bit. "Nick mentioned that LaCroix was having dreams about a warrior woman. Could this be her?" she thought out loud. More consideration on the topic..."Was it that she looked like Xena because she actually was Xena?" she theorized. The moves, the fighting style, everything was the same....It certainly did fit the myth concerning the Warrior Princess from the Classics class at the U of T.   "Another factor," she noted. "LaCroix was Roman. Could they have met?"

A rapping came from the door. "Nat?" Nick inquired.

"Nick. Glad to see you," she greeted him. A long look told her that he was still having problems. "I hope that you followed my advice and stayed away from the Raven last night.  Seeing LaCroix seems to be depressing you."

"Funny, he thinks the same thing about my talking to you about a cure," he replied half-seriously.

"He would say that." she grinned sarcastically. She looked at him with a relieved smile. "I am glad to hear that your sense of humor is returning."

"Slowly but surely," he stated. "Thanks for pushing me to take those sick days."

She nodded. "Hey, sick days are for everyone...mortals and immortals alike." She walked back over to the desk and, with the tweezers, picked up the broken gold links. "I have something for you and Tracy," she announced.

Nick studied the piece hanging in the tweezers. "Are those the links from the pocket watch?" he asked amazed. "Where did you get them?"

"From the chief suspect. He and his gang are over at the precinct...," she started. She decided not to mention Xena, at least for now....No reason to give Nick anything else to worry about.

"And....?" he asked expectantly.

Just then, the phone interrupted their conversation with its shrill call to attention.

"Saved by the bell," she thought and answered it. "Lambert."

"Natalie, it's Captain Reese. Do you have any idea where Detective Knight is?" Reese inquired anxiously. "He's not in his apartment and I have no idea of where he is."

"He's right here, actually," she explained. "I was just showing him the links from the Horowitz watch. Do you want to talk to him?"

"No, that's okay. Just tell him to get over here ASAP. His partner's waiting on him, and so am I. We have suspects to question. Thanks," Reese explained and hung up.

She placed the phone back on the receiver and faced Nick.

"Let me guess," he surmised. "He wants me there now."

She nodded. "Uh-huh. You better get going before he puts an APB out on you."

"Okay. Let's get this case wrapped up and things will get a lot simpler around here. Thanks, Nat," he sighed, and left the examination room hurriedly.

 'Simpler', he thinks? She shook her head worriedly. Just wait until he finds out about the bank.

********************************************

Reese hung up the phone dejectedly. "This has been one of those days," he groused. He had seen many weird things in his time on the force. But just when he thought that he had seen it all, life drove another puck under his stick and into the goal.

"Where do these guys get their stories?" he groused to himself. "A warrior woman? Yeah, right.  Still, I had better humor these guys." He composed himself and sat back down at the interrogation table facing two of the suspects. "So, let me get this straight ," he supposed while looking at the police report. "A woman about 6 feet tall with dark leather armor, a sword and a discus stopped you. Too bad this isn't TV."

"But...but...Look man! I know what I saw! It was Xena!" the leader protested vehemently.

"Xena's a mythical character. Even if she did exist, she's long dead," Reese chuckled.

The suspect was sticking to his story. "Ask the others! They'll back me up!" he argued.

"They do. Hell, even your potential victims agree with you. Don't ask me why. But they collaborated your story," the captain shrugged. 

Then, he turned to the uniformed officer beside him. "Get him down to Holding. I'm done with him here," he directed.

The officer nodded and conveyed the criminal out of the room.

Nick and Tracy watched their captain exit the interrogation area, scratching his head in confusion. Then, he made a beeline for his office and closed the door.

Nick stood up and looked at Tracy. "I guess that's our cue to go in," he supposed.

"Either that or we sit out here waiting all night," she agreed.

They walked over to the office and knocked on the door. 

"Come in," Reese bade them.

They walked into his office and stood in front of the desk. "What's going on?" Nick asked.  "Nat told me that we caught the suspects from the Horowitz case. Why is everyone dazed, like they don't know what's going on? "

Tracy and Reese exchanged glances. She inhaled deeply and glanced at him sheepishly.  "You haven't seen the news or heard the reports have you?" she inquired.

"No, I missed them. Why?" Nick probed.

Reese opened his desk drawer and produced a VCR tape. "This is from the bank's surveillance camera. Brace yourself," he advised.

He popped the tape into the VCR and pressed play. The TV played back Xena's fight with the gang.

"She is something else!" Tracy admired. "Isn't she, Nick?"

Nick watched in fascination. Could it be an Amazon? Not likely. But the resemblance made his mind flash back.

********************

Orleans 1429

The combined English and Burgundian forces had surrounded the Dauphinist army within sight of Orleans' walls. Nicholas de Brabant wanted to call a last defensive stand, but his superiors advised him to hold his position. They stated that the Maid was coming. He wondered if this woman was indeed the same peasant woman from the Dauphin's court. She was full of bluster, but untested on the battlefield. An hour passed and then another.  The battle worsened for the besieged army. Finally, with a triumphant thunder of hooves, their reinforcements stormed the enemy positions. Amazingly enough, the woman, Jeanne, dressed in male armor and a white surcoat led the charge. The enemy fell before her like wheat in the path of a scythe. The tide had turned and miraculously, the English retreated .

********************************

"Hey, Nick," Tracy nudged him back to the present. "You okay?"

Reese looked at him expectantly. "I don't suppose that you have any ideas, Detective."

Nick shook his head. "Sorry, Captain. I can't say that I do."

Reese frowned. "As much as I appreciate the help, I can't have armed vigilantes running around on my watch. See if you can run her down and bring her in for questioning." He produced a picture of Angie. "Also, there was a woman at the scene, Dr. Angela Dubois.  She's staying at the Camille with her husband. Go check her out."

"Sure thing," Tracy agreed grimly. "Is there a particular reason?"

"Well, according to witnesses, Dr. Dubois was seen in the building prior to the holdup.  However, she disappeared from the scene, and nobody saw her walk out the front door!" the captain noted. "Now, unless they gave certain people the ability to disappear in a flash, she left that room under her own power. I need you to ascertain her whereabouts. If you do find her, I need to get a statement from her. Okay?"

They nodded and left the office hurriedly.

"Should we go there now?" she asked.

"Can't hurt," he nodded. He had a strange feeling about the Dubois woman. She would definitely bear further examination. Such work, despite the captain's opinions to the contrary, would be best conducted by himself, at least for the present. And also, the question persisted:  was there a connection between Xena and Angela Dubois? Although he had no evidence, his instincts advised that he remain open to this possibility for some reason. For now, however, he grabbed his coat and without waiting for his partner, headed for the garage where the Caddy waited.

To look at the next part, click here

Have questions, comments, or suggestions? Please send them to dante0220@yahoo.com .