Title: "Suburban Legend"
Author: EA Karras and Magnes
Feedback: ekarras@woodstock.com; twisted_knickers@hotmail.com
Notes: For the legends of Lilith, see the sourcebook: "Revelations of
the Dark Mother". The word "know" in the opening monologue is used bible
innuendoishly. heh heh heh. Disclaimer: All main characters belong to
Alliance.  We own Calhoun. That's it. 

-----

"Whispered voices from the dead
Come from underneath my bed and I
Don't really care..."
Oingo Boingo, Change

She was Lilith. She was Lilitu. She was Bloody Mary. She was Death. She
was life. The First Woman, before Eve. Traitor to man, traitor to woman.
Traitor to Caine. To the Gods. To Adam. Poisoner of the mind of Eve,
she offered the forbidden fruit. She knew Eve, she knew Adam. She knew
all. She was creator, destroyer, fertile and sterile. The Queen of the
Dark, bringer of Gehenna. 

She was equal to Adam and of his flesh. Born from the back, not from
the rib. Higher than Eve, higher than Adam. Level with Caine. 

She was clanless and Bahari. She was Autarkis and Elder. She was Ancient
and Whelp. She was human and inhuman. She was pain and pleasure. Death
and life. Fear and love. 

She was fire, ice, owl, cat, blessed and damned.

She was The Dark Mother.

She was Lilith. She was Lilitu. She was Bloody Mary.

She was Victoria Metcalf.

***

His second day among the Elders, he was feeling like crap and trying
not to show it. In fact, against the oddly somber mood in the meeting
place, he looked downright relaxed. He sat in the uncomfortable woooden
chair, grinning as he listened to the Giovanni Elder, Frank Zuko, run
down his plan for some sort of hunting ground. He didn't even try to
understand everything they were talking about.  What a way to spend a
weekend. 

Yesterday they had grudgingly allowed him into their inner sanctum, where
it was painfully obvious that, Gangrel though he may be, Ray was far
from being  undead and woefully ignorant.  Still, he was their peer,
if only in title, and Prince Warfield had insisted he be treated with
the respect due his title. 

The meeting, what Ray understood of it, had centered around why Calhoun
had packed up and blew this joint.	Ray had tried to explain the images
of Gohannah (Or whatever the hell Turnbull had called it) but he had
the  feeling they all thought he was nuts.  Still, he noted an uneasiness
when one of the other clan elders, an old guy that looked like he pre-dated
the Bronze Age and spoke with a lisp, backed up his words by	mentioning
no Gangrel had been spotted in his or their territory for almost three
weeks, and since their territory included the Chicago Zoo, this was apparently
noteworthy.  Why, Ray had no clue.  
"Is something amusing, Kowalski?" Zuko suddenly demanded. He was put
out and sounded as if he was about to sneeze. That was another thing
- for some reason, Ray made these elders sneeze. It wasn't because he
was still	human, Warfield complained about the color of his hair and
had asked him flat-out to change from blond to anything else just prior
to a fit of sneezing such as the Prince had not had in about two centuries.

"No...no...sorry." He felt incredibly flushed and wanted to get home
to Fraser and Dief. The less he complained about their oddball ideas
for the city, the less he'd have to be there. Listening to them sneeze
and getting glaring looks every time he automatically said, "Bless you."

Zuko shook his head, continuing. He'd always thought the detective strange.
Especially now. He didn't understand why a ghoulite was allowed on the
council. Especially one who consorted with slayers. He was equally displeased
with the assignment handed him by the Prince: He was responsible for
helping this ghoulite should he need it.  Zuko hoped the day would never
dawn.  Still, the man DID consort with Slayers and, it was rumored, a
Seeker, and you never quite knew when such things could be useful. Kowalski
was harmless.	Let Calhoun play his childish game. 

***

Ray rested his head on the steering wheel, tiredly. He was in the parking
lot of his building and had been sitting there for several minutes. He
was vaguely aware of dozing off when he heard a tapping on his window.
He rolled it down. "Mina?" 

"Elder Kowal..."

"Ray."

"Ray, are you not well?"

"I'm good. Just a little sleepy."

"I'll get the Slayer."

He didn't protest. "Y'ok..." 

"Let me help you inside." 
 
Again, he had no protest and Mina frowned in concern at the omission.
She was getting to understand this elder and she liked and respected
him and she knew that he should be arguing with her by now.  
*** 
 
"Good evening, Mina," greeted Constable Benton Fraser as he entered the
apartment with Diefenbaker at his heels.  Ray's apartment was almost
always busy now, so busy that they had had to move. But his get being
always welcome, and Fraser liked it here all the more for the activity.
Jay, the only boy in the get, had developed an odd fascination for the
GTO and Lucia seemed to enjoy debating over anything just to hear Ray's
and Fraser's accents.  Mina, though, had stolen a bit of Fraser's heart
with her gentle, quiet ways and her calm acceptance of what had happened
so unexpectedly to her.  Until called by Calhoun to meet Ray, she had
not known  she was a vampire. 
 
Turnbull, upon meeting the McGets (as Ray had entitled the group), had
clearly been smitten with Mina.  Fraser smiled.  It was an interesting
household.  
"Good evening, Slay- Benton.  I was about to call you.  The elder is
not well."  
"Where is he?" asked Fraser, immediately concerned. 
 
"On his bed.  I had to help him from the car.  He said he was tired,
but..."  
He hurried into the darkened bedroom, letting the light from the living
room illuminate the space.  Ray's glasses were off. The reading lamp
would blind him if turned on.  
He was still dressed, lying on his side, and Fraser was struck at how
frail the detective looked against the shadows.  A rattling cough shook
his body. It sounded painful.  
"Ray?" 
 
He knelt by the bed and stroked the spikey blond hair. Ray's black eyes
opened and he smiled at the sight of the Mountie's concerned face so
close to his own.  
"Hi," he rasped. 
 
"Hello.  How do you feel?" 
 
"Like crap." 
 
Fraser leaned in and kissed his forehead, as much in greeting as to check
for fever.  Ray was burning.  
"What's wrong?" 
 
"Feel like crap." 
 
"Could you be a little more specific?" 
 
"Cough.  Hurt. Sore throat.  Wanna puke. My hair hurts.  Y'know.  I feel
like crap."  
"Ah." 
 
Ray caught the look in the Mountie's blue eyes and decided now was the
time to distract him before he started talking doctors and nasty-tasting
teas.   "Love you." 
 
"And I, you." 
 
He reached for Fraser's hand.  "Hey, Ben?" 
 
"Yes?" he returned, not liking how Ray's skin was hot and dry. 
 
"When I'm feelin' better and stuff, you wanna do something about that?"

"About what?" he asked hopefully. 
 
"About the 'love you' and 'and I, you'." 
 
"What do you suggest?" 
 
"Let's do more than say it."  He coughed, tears brimming in his eyes
from the effort.  
Fraser stroked him face, knowing he wore a stupid grin as he answered,
"I would...like that very much."  
"Like?"  Ray sounded hurt. 
 
Fraser somehow kept his voice steady as he said, "I would give anything
for you to be feeling better right this instant, Ray."  
"Dat's better. Hell, I don't need to be feelin' better. The shower..."
Another fit of coughing shook him and Ray groaned in pain.  Fraser came
back down to earth.  
"You need to see a doctor.  Now."  He tried to sound as forceful as he
could. For some reason it didn't work on Ray.  
"Tomorrow." 
 
"Ray..." 
 
"Frase...tomorrow." 
 
The Canadian's eyes narrowed, glancing at the clock.  It was six.  If
Ray wasn't at all improved in six hours, he was going to the emergency
room and he knew he could recruit the entire get, Ray Vecchio and Turnbull
to get him there if he needed.  The traumas he had suffered in the past
two months had left Ray exhausted and vulnerable and the effects were
still making themselves known.  
"Fine. Tomorrow." 

"Now move it or lose it..."

"Lose what?"

"The serge. I'm about to..." Ray launched himself up, unsteadily and
bolted for the bathroom. 

***

He hadn't gotten better. In fact, he'd gotten worse. Ray's fever had
gone up to 104, and he was so exausted that Fraser hadn't needed to get
anyone but Mina to help him. 

Ray had been surprisingly docile when the doctor had started the examination.
Now, he was openly glaring at Mina, knowing that it wouldn't get him
anywhere with Fraser. 

"Have you been doing anything extra strenous lately?" The doctor asked,
making Ray breath in and out so he could check his lungs. "Fluidic lungs,"
he noted to the nurse. 

"Took the McGet hunting two days ago...Wabb...Rabbit." Ray almost giggled.

"When it rained?" Fraser asked, quietly. "Oh, Ray..."

"Don't Ray me, Frase."

"Understood."

"Pneumonia." The doctor stated, bluntly. "He has pneumonia."

***

Vecchio and Dewey stared at a police officer from across the hall. "That
him?" 

"Yep."

"Sure?"

"Partner turned him in."

In the past two weeks, Vecchio and Dewey had been investigation the Holy
Coffee Bandit, and had come up short. Dewey and Huey and apologized to
Ray, but had not /exactly/ been forgiven. Finding who tried to poison
him would go a long way to regaining Kowalski's trust. 

"Let's go."

Dewey fell in behind the uniformed officer as he exited the precinct
and headed towards a patrol car.  Unlocking the vehicle, the officer
glanced up and recognized the detectives.  
"Officer McCarthy?" 
 
"Yeah." 
 
"Officer Johm William McCarthy?" 
 
"...Yeah..."  He was suspicious now. 
 
"Officer McCarthy, you are under arrest for aggravated assault on a fellow
officer in the course of his duties, namely one Detective Stanley Raymond
Kowalski."  It felt so good to finally use the speech he'd been practicing
for two weeks. "Will you return to the station with me quietly, or am
I going to have to humiliate the hell out of you by cuffing you and removing
your gun and badge in plain sight?"  
"What the hell are you talking about, Dewey?" 
 
"We got you, Mickey.  Father Paul told us you stopped in at St. Michael's
during your lunch break and took a jar of holy water out with you.  George
from the custodial staff told us he found the punched-out papers in your
trash for the confetti.  We know you collect coins...missing a silver
dime from 1961?  We got it nice and safe in evidence.  We also know you
were assigned at the 30th when Kowalski was undercover there.  He blew
the  whistle on the corruption and all the graft going on.  Nothing stuck
to you but we did notice when we checked your finances your bills weren't
paid off as quickly here at the 27th as at the 30th.  Work with us and
we'll leave it at agg assault.  Give me shit, and we up it to attempted
homicide in the first, second if you're lucky, with a full investigation
of every waking moment of your life from the time you hit puberity. 
Your choice."  
Silence.  Then McCarthy slammed the door and returned to the precinct.
"Fine. Whatever. I got nothing to hide." 

"Good. That oughta make things easy." 

Vecchio made a face. "Too bad. I like the hard way."

***

Ray stood in the cold shower, eyes closed, hands balanced on either wall.
He was dizzy, but his fever was so high he couldn't stop sweating. He
was shaking badly, partly from the cold and partly from the sick. He
could hear Mina on the phone with the Elders, explaining why he wasn't
there. Lucia and Jay played with Dief. 

And Fraser was just outside the glass shower door. Just in case. Truth
be told, Ray would rather the mountie had been in the shower with him,
but hey...ya get what ya get. 

"Get..." Ray snickered, leaning his head against the cold tile. He felt
himself slipping, and barely noticed when Fraser grabbed him. "Wow. Yer
quick." 

"You're dizzy?" Fraser helped him to step out of the shower, steadying
him long enough to turn off the water. 

"Mmm." He leaned his forhead against Fraser's. "Yer makin' me dizzy."

"That's silly."

"I'm silly?" He tried to sound hurt. Failed. God, he'd waited for this
for months and years and now he was too damned sick to do anything about
it. Anything constructive, at least, though he /could/ start small...

"Ray. Ray." Fraser was finding it difficult to concentrate, especially
with Ray's teeth nipping at his neck. "Ray!" 

"Mmm?"

"That's very distracting."

"That's very the point."

"Ray." The voice was quiet, a caress in itself as Fraser pushed him against
the wall, standing close enough to hold him there without actually touching
him.  Ray stilled, trying desperately hard not to cough or shiver in
anticipation of what was about to happen.  Fraser leaned closer still,
studying the detective's pale, angular face, memorizing every plane and
line of his face.  

Ray closed his eyes to spare himself from the dull light.  He didn't
have to see to sense. He could feel Fraser's breath upon his cheek, his
neck. 

The Mountie was smelling him, re-learning him now that he had been released
from the hospital. Ray smelled of soap and medicine and tea over a lingering
notion of...blood.  Old blood.  

Fraser almost smiled as Ray tried in vain to control his body's reaction
to being in such close proximity.  He was so beautiful...  
Kowalski's thoughts were running riot. //Oh, god, does he know what this
does to me?  He must.  He'd have to be blinder than me not to see it.
He must get off on gettin' /me/ off without even touching me.  God! 
If he  starts that tongue thing, I hafta attack 'em!// 
 
Fraser took a deep breath.  Unconsciously, Ray echoed the motion, his
heart racing.  He was trembling, fighting not to cough...  
//Wait for it...// 
 
"Ahhhh," he sighed as he felt Fraser lick his neck.  Warm, moist, slow
and so erotic Ray was all but purring as he leaned into the touch.	"Oh,
god," he whispered, his hands rising to twine in the Mountie's dark hair.

Who cared about the get?  Chicago? The world?  He was here, with Fraser
in his arms...  
Abruptly, the Mountie stiffened.  Something had changed. Ray.  His smell.
Something was happening -  
The American's back suddenly arched and his black eyes opened wide in
fear and horror.  Fraser struggled to keep him from striking his head
on the wall as Ray drew a gasping breath in prelude to a scream. The
naked flesh beneath Fraser's hands was suddenly burning hot, the flash
must have effected his fevered metabolism. 

"Ray. Ray. Ray." He got him away from the wall and back in the shower,
turning it on. Wet clothes be damned. He blinked as they were both assaulted
by the spray, watching Ray as whatever vision he was seeing took over.

"Nonono. Frase...Fraser..." Ray couldn't move, couldn't close his eyes.
Flashes of the fire, of Ben. Of the McGet. Thousands of vampires dying.
Screams. Zuko and Warfield. Faster, and faster. He was barely aware of
the sound of his own voice screaming, as well as...Lucia? 

He gasped as the vision finally slowed to a halt. But didn't end. He
was...somewhere. Not with Fraser, and not in his apartment. Standing
in the cold snow. 

Attacking someone, viciously. The anger he felt towards the dark haired
woman was intense. He had no idea who she was, but she'd done something
to hurt him. Or Fraser? And he was.... 

Feeding off her. 

Her eyes opened, "See you soon."

He stared down at her. "Who..."

"Victoria. Lilith. Whatever." 

And then it was over. He woke up on his bed, a towel being brushed on
his forhead. Mina? He opened his eyes halfway, startled. "What..." 

"Your flash lasted a long time, El...Ray." She smiled, "Benton went to
get Renfield..." She pulled the blankets around him. "Rest." 

"Luc..."

"Asleep. She was more startled than hurt.  She's the eldest of us three.
She saw just a little of what you saw, snow and fire and the sky at night."

"Wherz Diefn...bac...r?" 
 
Mina smiled and pointed.  "Right here." 
 
He turned his head and found himself nose-to-nose with the wolf.  He'd
thought they'd put Lucia in here with him, but no, he got the shedding
bandit instead.  Dief licked his face and ear and Ray lay back down before
he was saturated.  Dief rested his head on the pillow as well and Ray
knew when he woke up and Dief was past the stress of Ray's flash, the
wolf would be a child again.  But he didn't want to think right now.
Couldn't.  All he  wanted was sleep and Fraser. 
 
*** 
 
"You're certain, Constable?  He said Lilith?" 
 
"In the same breath he said Victoria." 
 
"Oh, dear." 
 
"Indeed." 
 
"Let's go." 
 
Fraser followed Turnbull to the GTO, not exactly sure what was going
on. "Why would he say Victoria? He's never met her, I've never even told
him about her." 

"I dare say he's not met Lilith either." He pauses, glancing at Fraser.
No. It wouldn't be a good idea to tell him. 

Too late.  Fraser saw the look on his face.  He knew Turnbull too well
not to know something was bothering him even if he was a Seeker.  And
he would have to be told eventually... 

"What?" Fraser pulled out of the parking space, his heart thumping with
panic. Was Lilith coming? Or Victoria? What was going on? 

"Lilith..."

"Yes?"

"Lilith is Victoria."

He winced as the brakes slammed on and the GTO skidded to a stop right
in the middle of the street in the first violation of a traffic law Turnbull
had ever witnessed out of the Constable.  Cars screeched behind them
and  instantly the blare of horns erupted into the already noisy Chicago
night.  
Fraser stared straighT ahead, his mouth moving but no words forming.

Turnbull, regretting his timing and having to hurt this man he respected
so, quietly asked, "Shall I drive, Constable?"  
Fraser couldn't even nod.  He just put the car in park and got out right
in the middle of the street and let Turnbull take the wheel.  He sat
in silence, knowing he would lie before a Seeker would.  Victoria - Lilith?
How could that be?  How could such a thing have happened...?  What would
happen?  
He closed his eyes to keep from seeing the night.  He had seen too much
darkness. 

***

Vecchio entered the small apartment, shrugging off his coat. "What's
going on?" He turned to Jay, belatedly addressing the question to him.
If anyone would know, Jay would. He seemed to know everything without
being told. It was eery. 

"Elder Kowalski had a vision. About a woman The Slayer knows." Jay led
him into the living room. The Chinese teen had categorically refused
to call Kowalski Ray, or Stan or anything other than Elder. It was bothersome
but  Kowalski had given up trying to bend Jay's rigid sense of what could
and couldn't be said to an Elder of the Gangrel.  

Fraser was hunched over for the first time in years, looking strangely
worn as if he had aged. He was staring at his boots, sighing. "Ray."

"Benny. What happened?"

"He saw it again. Gehenna." Fraser closed his eyes. "And he saw /her/."

"Her? Who her?" 

"Victoria." Fraser felt the couch shift as Ray sat beside him. "She's
Lilith, Ray." 

"Oh God." Vecchio felt himself flush, knowing that if he hadn't been
sitting he would have fallen. 

"He won't tell me what else he saw." Fraser said quietly.  He didn't
feel betrayed by Ray's refusal.  He felt helpless. 

"You think he'll tell me?"

"I think he'll tell Irene."

***

Diefenbaker, a scrawny little kid with stiff hair once again, lay almost
on top of Ray's chest as he tried to understand the strangeness about
his pack mate's scent.  Fraser could have told him it was the medication
and cough syrup Ray was consuming, but Dief hadn't left Ray's side all
day except to pilfer a chocolate donut and get a drink.  All he knew
was that all was not right with his other human and he didn't like it.
Any more than he liked the burning feeling of his other human's skin
or the motions his body made. 
  
He knew his human was here...surely he could set his other human right?

The tall one was here, too, and Dief was glad.	He was his human's pack
mate, and Dief liked him.  He had always been kind to him in either form,
never reacting to moon-phases like /some/ of his human's pack mates.

He needed to be so tall to house the twin spirits within him, the werewolf
reasoned simply.  He liked either being, just as they liked him, though
the softer of the two was actually harder to bribe than the knowing one.

He had spoken to Dief's other human at length and he sat there still,
shifting from one spirit to the other as needed.  Now the soft one that
was hard was trying to get his other human to swallow something that
smelled almost as foul as holy water.  If it had been anyone less trusted,
Dief would have growled.  As it was, he whined, knowing the tall one
would never hurt one of  his pack. 
 
*** 
 
"Detective, I know it tastes terrible, but you've got to take it.  Constable
Fraser asked me to be sure you got this at seven precisely and it's already
three minutes past."  
Ray coughed, dazed from fever, exhausted from talking and the flash.
He glared, but Turnbull just wasn't getting it.  
"Turnbull?" he rasped, trying to piece together what he didn't know about
this man and the completely weird conversation he'd had for the past
hour with what seemed like two people.  
"Yes?" 
 
"Are you schizoid?" 
 
"No, Detective Kowalski.  I'm a Seeker." 
 
Ray's jaw dropped.  Turnbull saw his chance and shoved the spoonful of
green syrup into Ray's mouth.  Ignoring the 'I'm dying' look from Ray,
he checked the clock.  Five minutes past. Perhaps the Constable wouldn't
be too angry. 

He sat on the bed, feeling the elder's forhead with the back of his hand.
"You're leaving something out, detective." 

"What?" He swallowed the NyQuil, making a face. 

"What else did you see?"

"Nothing. Just what I told you."

***

"If he tells Irene, you want me to tell you." Vecchio didn't mean it
as a question. He looked over at Fraser. The Mountie looked torn. Like
a storm was going through. Turnbull was listening, morally barred from
agreeing with Vecchio. "Benny?" 

"I don't know. I don't understand how he could have a vision about a
woman he's never met." 

"But from what you've said, he's seen bits of the future.  He's named
people he can't know but meets later. Maybe it's a vampire thing. Isn't
Lilith the Queen of all vamps?" 

Fraser nodded. "And the...oh dear."

"What?"

"The first Gangrel. She was Gangrel." He closed his eyes, turmoiled.
He had no idea what to do. 

"Benny?"

"She drained me once, you know. I never...never drank."

"You told me."

"I wanted to."

"I know."

***

Dief curled into a ball, his head on Ray's chest. He listened to the
slow thud of his other human's heart. He was worried. He had seen what
his other human had seen, and hadn't liked it. The Woman was coming back.

He lifted his head as the door opened again, this time to admit his human's
/other/ pack mate.  He had changed considerably since the Three arrived
and Dief rather liked him, though his human's other insisted on wearing
those tempting covers...  
*** 
 
Ray Vecchio let himself into the sick room and studied the pathetic sight
of Kowalski with pneumonia.  If Rosa Vecchio saw how thin Stan had become
Ray knew he'd be in the doghouse for not telling her.  
"Hey, Dief," he whispered, stroking the boy's hair as he settled on the
bed. He was rewarded by a low, concerned growl as he placed his hand
on Kowalski's shoulder and gently shook him. 

He'd come to tell Ray about the arrest, and to get a statement. But he'd
been sucked into something else. Seemed like a regular occurance, lately.

"Stan? Stan, you awake?" 
 
Clearly he wasn't, and he roused unhappily. 
 
"Wha-?" 
 
"How you feel?" 
 
A low cough answered, then, "Rotten." 
 
"Sorry to hear it." 
 
//The planets are in alignment.  Vecchio's paying a social call.//  

"Is...Irene here?" Vecchio asked nervously.  He was still uncomfortable
with Stan's ability to talk to the dead and he'd hit pretty close to
home the last time he'd spoken to Irene Zuko. Too close.  
Ray frowned, looking past Vecchio.  "Who are you?" 
 
/Don't you remember me, Yank?  Of course, you were busy dying at the
time.../  
"Who's there?" worried the Italian, looking to where Kowalski stared.
He saw a dresser, nothing more.  Dief was watching with wide gold eyes.

/You've seen me for years.  You're good, Kowalski.  I had to work hard
to keep you from getting a good look. Against the rules. But you make
the rules, don't you, Elder?/ 

 "Who was she?" His throat felt raw, sounded scratchy. He stared at the
older man, shaky. "What was she?" 

/The beginning and the end, Yank. What're you gonna do about it?/ 

Vecchio was getting worried. "Stan? Is she here? Is Irene here?" He glanced
at Dief, who was whining. And wolfing. He looked back at Kowalski to
him arch under another vision. 

"Ohhh...God..."

"Benny!"

***

Mina handed Fraser the glass of bark tea, smiling kindly at Turnbull.
He caught the glance and blushed. If Fraser were in another mood, he
would've been amused. 

Turnbull was about to say something when they heard the dual screams.
one from the guest room, one from Ray's. Mina went one way, the Mounties
went the other. 

***

Ray's face was contorted in pain. "Tu...tu..." He gasped over, and over,
unable to get the entire word out. He clutched at his head, screaming.
This was not a vision. This was a message. His head swam, the room tilted.
He screamed again, oblivious to Vecchio's shouting. 

***

All over the city, vampires dropped from the message. Screaming in the
streets, some falling to their knees. The human around them were startled
as they finally discovered who among them was not of the mortal variety.

The nations and clans of vampires all knew where they needed to go. 
/She/ had called.  /She/ wanted her children gathered to her.  Such a
thing had not happened since the Flood, when the world had changed. 
And now, in the span of this century, it would happen again, to /them/.
They would look upon the face of their mother, Lilith.  
It was remarkable to the travel agencies the sudden interest people showed
in visiting a remote Canadian town in the Northwest Territories.  Who
visited the Arctic circle in summer, let alone winter?	And who ever heard
of Tuktoyuktuk.
 
**** 
 
"Ray?" 
 
Blood. He tasted blood.  Even if it was his own, it was a welcome sensation.
Never thought he'd /want/ it that way.  
"Ray?" 
 
Why was he bleeding? 
 
"Ray?" 
 
Fraser's voice, far away. 
 
"Ray?  Open your eyes for me." 
 
Suddenly it seemed to Ray that simple request was too much to ask.  He
tried to force his eyes to obey.  Why did hid head hurt so much?  Did
pneumonia hit ya this way?  He felt gentle pressure on his face now.

He got one eye open a slit.  Fraser was holding him.  This was nice.
The Mountie had a red-stained cloth in his hand he was using to staunch
the blood flowing from Ray's nose.  
"Ray, can you hear me?" 
 
He wanted to answer.  He managed a grunt. 
 
"Can you speak?" 
 
His attempt made him sound like Dief.  His tongue was thick in his mouth
and he couldn't get his body to co-operate with the simplist requests.

"Something is happening.  Here, in the city, to the vampire clans.  It's
connected to the flash you had earlier.  Now Lucia says she's received
a psychic summons to go to Canada, to the Gangrel territories."  
"Tu...k..." 
 
"Tuktoyaktuk," Fraser provided, pausing to stroke the blond hair, knowing
it was the easiest way to comfort the American.  He was right.  The lean
and boney form he cradled visably relaxed at the touch.  "Ray, I know
Victoria Metcalf is Lilith.  You know we have a...past. I don't know
if I ever told you the full story."  
Ray got his eyes to open fully now and he gazed up at his Mountie, thinking,
//I hope she's not Inuit...// 

"I was hunting her. She'd killed quite a few people, humans and vampires.
I found her nearly frozen to death. Odd, for a vampire. But not for one
that was starving. I found her at Fortitude Pass." 

Ray listened, quietly. He clutched at Fraser's free hand, trying not
to cough. "She fe..." 

"Yes. By the time she started, I was so far gone I didn't realise she'd
started to. We'd been talking, just talking for hours. Trying to keep
each other awake." 

"Did you..."

"Feed? No. She wouldn't let me. In retrospect, I see why now." He rubbed
the bridge of his nose. "No. I didn't feed from her." 

"And you arrested her..." Ray knew that much of the story from Dewey.
And something about Vecchio shooting him. "Oh God...what does she want?"

"I don't know. I need to know what you saw."

"I told..."

"No. What you didn't tell Turnbull. What you wouldn't tell me." He brushed
the hair out of Ray's face. "Please." 

Ray took a breath in and swallowed nervously.	Fraser waited patiently,
knowing this would be as difficult for Ray to say as it would be for
him to hear.  He could feel the fever burning his lover, heat radiating
off the  normally cool body and he knew the pneumonia was consuming all
of Ray's strength.  

The detective coughed, closing those strange black eyes as he fought
for control.  When he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper.  
"I see me.  In the snow.  It's night, but bright, like there's a big
fire somewhere close.  I see a woman with dark hair.  She's standing
over something in the snow. Something I want.  Maybe Dief. Maybe you.
I'm  attacking her. I'm...I'm..." 
 
"It's alright. Take a breath." 
 
He plunged on, his body and mind slowly recovering.  "I'm feeding off
of her.  But I can't, can I?"  
"I don't know. You certainly don't have the teeth for it," he said, going
back to stroking the blond hair, waiting for more coughing to subside.

"Then I see her turnin' and lookin' at /me/.  /IN/ the flash.  She knows
what's happening and all 'cause she's makin' it happen and she smiles
real nasty-like and says, 'I'll see you soon.'"  
"Do you have any idea what she wants?" 
 
"Yeah. She wants revenge." 
 
"On whom?" 
 
"Ellery.  You. God. The world." 
 
"Ellery?" 
 
"I dunno.  I just...know what I know and it ain't enough and it scares
me so bad I wanna crawl under the bed but I know they'll find me anyway."
The whisper was fading, the admission of fear a difficult one for Ray
to verbalize.  

He was totally open, too weary and beaten by his own abilities to erect
the barbed wire fences he normally hid behind and only the Mountie could
breach. "Oh, god, Ben..."  
Fraser bent his head and held Ray close and tight, feeling the wirey
arms return the embrace.  "I have you," he assured softly, as his heart
almost broke anew.  Once again he thanked god for this man, this caring
and loving man that meant everything in the world to him.	He wished he
could protect Ray from the world, from the living that mistrusted him
and the dead that plagued him and the undead that despised him.  But
all he could do was love him, and so he did. 

"Do you?" whispered Ray.

"Hmmm?" He felt Ray's fingers travel up his arm, and took in a breath.
"Ray." 

"Do you have me?" Ray grinned, weakly. He kissed Fraser, suddenly but
slowly. His fingers ran up to cup Fraser's face, pulling him closer.
"You /can/ have me. I love you. You love me?" 

"I love you." Fraser closed his eyes. This was a bad idea. Ray had pneumonia.
They couldn't possibly...Oh, god, he'd wanted to do this since the day
they met. "Ray." 

"I love you. I want this. Ok?" He nipped behind Fraser's ear, carefully.
Closed his eyes as he felt Fraser do the same to him. He thrilled to
feel those strong arms tremble and Fraser's voice was husky as he said,
"Yes.   Please..." 

"Fuck me kindly, Frase?" Ray grinned, teasingly.

Fraser blinked in surprise at the words that did not quite fit the tone
of voice.  Was this a genuine offer?  Was Ray serious, or was he just
trying to generate a reaction? 

Fraser blushed, not having a free hand to tug at his collar.  "What?"

The grin broadened as Kowalski enjoyed his reaction, then he repeated,
softer this time, "Fuck me kindly, Frase?" 

"An...invitation, Ray?"

"Yeah.  R.S.V.P. right now."

Fraser leaned back on the bed, pulling Ray down with him as gently as
he could. They moved slowly, taking their time. Ray wasn't in any hurry.
He wasn't going anywhere.  
But he had a terrorfying feeling that Fraser was. 

***

Vecchio watched Jay from inside the house. He appeared to be circling
the Riv like a hawk. Eyeing it like prey. He wondered if he should be
worried. He didn't know what normal behavior for teenage, Chinese vampires
might be, but he was fairly sure that obsessions with classic American
cars just wasn't what one could expect.  He'd seen this kid with the
GTO and it had bordered a religious experience when Stan had let Jay
drive it.  He  probably went into ecstacies whenever Stan popped the
hood.  Weird. 

Mina and Turnbull had gone for a walk, taking Dief with them. The werekid
needed non sick air. It'd be good for him. Maybe they could get some
real food in him too. It was good for Turnbull as well.  The big Mountie's
feelings were as plain as day where Mina was concerned: head over heels.
A Seeker and a get.  A McGet, no less. 

It had been an hour since Stanley had been screaming and bleeding before
him.  Fraser and Turnbull had managed to calm the hysterical detective,
Fraser remaining behind the closed door of the bedroom for the talk he
and  his lover must have.  Vecchio was in the kitchen now, wondering
if he should wait or leave when he saw Lucia pick up the phone and dial
a number she seemed to know by heart. "I need three tickets. Runamukluk.
Yeah. For  tonight..."  She kept an eye on Ray's bedroom door, making
sure they didn't hear, unaware he was listening. 

***

"Why?" Ray lay next to Fraser, still nipping at him. Their legs were
entangled with the sheets. It was some time later and Ray was at once
exhausted and elated, basking in the glow of Fraser's love finally expressed.
He hoped Fraser didn't get what he had. They didn't need two of them
with pneumonia.  But if he didn't have it by now... 

"Why what?" Fraser lazily traced the tattoo on Ray's arm. He wondered
if it would still be there if Ray ever did go across. 

"Why didn't she let you feed?"

"Power. I would've been her equal. I doubt she would've liked that..."
He planted a kiss on Ray's forhead, curling around the smaller one protectively.

"I'd let you."

"I know."

"Really. I would."

"I know, Ray. Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"Only the two of us in our bed. Agreed?"

"Yeah." He curled his body, head resting on Fraser's shoulder. He felt
Fraser's fingers tangling in his hair. "I think I might let it go darker..."

"Hmm?"

"My hair. Makes the Elders sneeze."

"You're joking." Fraser smiled, amused. 

"Mmm." Ray let his eyes fall closed. He could hear the thud of Fraser's
heart against his ear. It was strangely hypnotic. He could feel his breathing
slow, in time with Fraser's heart beat. He didn't know if that was normal,
or if that was a vampire thing. 

And for once he didn't care.

Fraser watched his lover slowly fall asleep, knowing that when Ray awoke
he probabally wouldn't be here. If Ray's vision did come true, he needed
to be in the territories. He needed to stop Victoria. 

Lilith.

Lilitu.

Victoria.

***

"Going somewhere?" 
 
Lucia turned as Vecchio left the kitchen.  She had just finished the
arrangements for a journey across the Canadian wilderness to Runamukluk.
The wrong town, but she didn't know that.  
"Yes," she stated blandly. 
 
"Who you planning on taking?  You made arrangements for three." 
 
"The get.  They must come.  We have been summoned." 
 
"Didn't seem to me Jay or Mina were too effected.  I don't see them screaming
to get north.  The fact that Mina's out with Turnbull and Jay's drooling
over the Riv's bumpers says a helluva lot right now."  
"They're not as old as I am." 
 
"Ah.  And you're what, all of two months old? If that? Did you talk to
Sta- your Elder?  Don't you need his permission for something like this?"

She hesitated. 
 
"You wait here, missy," ordered Ray.  "You don't budge until I've talked
with Fraser.  Got it?"  
"The call-" 
 
"Do you have any idea of who and what called you?" 
 
"The First. The Dark Mother." 
 
"The biggest bitch that ever crawled across the face of this earth you
mean.  Why would she summon you?  All of you?  What reason could she
possibly have?"  
Lucia was silent, not having any answer. 
 
"Stay put." 
 
He was about to go knock on the bedroom door when Turnbull and Mina returned.
Diefenbaker, in werekid form once again and stuffed with a burger and
fries, came bounding in, hauling Jay along by his jacket.  Turnbull looked
concerned.  
"Something is wrong in the city, Detective Vecchio." 
 
"Something's wrong right here. Lucia's booking passage north." 
 
"You mustn't," whispered Turnbull, growing pale. 
 
Lucia's eyes brimmed with unshed tears of a wordless longing.  "I must,
Seeker."  
The bedroom door opened and Benton Fraser back out, shutting the door
behind him and leaning his head against it in abject misery. They all
gazed at him, his body language obvious.  He was saying goodbye.  Perhaps
forever.  
Diefenbaker ran over to him and wrapped his arms around Frasr's waist,
a soft whine escaping his throat as he pressed as close to his human
as he could.	

He could sense his human's distress.  He had felt such turmoil in the
past and while the touch of his human's hands was comforting, it did
nothing to dispell his fear.  
"Benny?" 
 
The Canadian turned grieving eyes to his former partner.  It was that
look of utter aloneness that moved Vecchio and reminded him why he called
the Mountie his best friend.  
"The arrangements are all made.  Our flight leaves at three-thirty in
the morning.  We've got until then to get ready."  
The look of gratitude said more to Ray than mere words ever could.  

Fraser finally found his voice.  "Seeker?" 
 
Turnbull shook his head.  "I can't go with you, Constable." 
 
He nodded sadly.  "Understood."

***

She stood at the top of the pass, waiting and watching as the first of
her children began to arrive. The Gangrel were the first, led by Calhoun.
She could smell the blood of her childe Ellery on him. Somehow she knew
he had not gotten it directly from Marcus. Typical of Calhoun. It had
been taken from someone else. She looked away from him in disgust as
he approached her, distressed at the look on her face. The rejection.

To be rejected by the dark mother was the highest sin. His clan took
four steps back. They would follow him no longer. And for now they had
only one leader. 

And he wasn't there.

Victoria smiled, coldly. He'd just have to be summoned. She took a step
towards the nearest gangrel. Her pack. The Gangrel were of Lilith. The
only clan to be totally of her, and not of Caine. They were hers. "Who
is he? Where is he?" 

The woman seemed to know of whom she spoke. "Kowalski. A human. A ghoulite."
She spat the last word out like a derogatory term. 

"Not for long." She smiled, looking up at the Northern Lights. They seemed
to glow a blood red. And they knew it was her doing it. 

She was power. She was hate. She was Lilith.

And Calhoun stood alone, ignored, outcast, despised. 

Autarkis.
 
*** 
 
Turnbull sat alone in the darkened living room, waiting.  He'd been here
for hours. Mina and Jay were hunting, having promised Fraser they would
not leave Chicago without permission.  Diefenbaker was curled up in a
tight  little ball on the overstuffed chair.  He was clutching a pair
of socks he'd claimed from the laundry pile and Turnbull hadn't questioned
his decision.  
Three o'clock. Three ten. They would be in the air soon.  Three twenty-two
and the bedroom door opened.  Like a man sleepwalking, he stood on the
doorway, pale and sick and alone.  He saw Turnbull immediately.  Turnbull.

Not Fraser.  Fraser was...gone.  Gone. And he couldn't stop his Mountie
from rushing headlong into peril.  Not this time.  Maybe never again.

Turnbull said nothing.	There was nothing that could be said.  He could
sympathize with Ray, but he could not understand the anguish of being
seperated from the one thing you love above all else, never having loved
anyone so deeply yet in his life.  He held the detective's gaze, trying
to convey his feelings.  
A quiet sound of grief escaped Ray's throat.  He slowly slid down the
wall until he was sitting on the floor, lost and alone and aching for
Fraser. 

***

Vecchio sat between Lucia and Fraser on the charter plane, watching the
Mountie with some concern. "Benny?" Fraser was staring at his boots again,
eyes half closed. He was chewing on his lower lip. "Benny, did something
happen I need to know about?" 

Fraser's head snapped up, jerkily. He blushed. "No. No. Nothing." 

Vecchio knew that look. He grinned, half way. "Ah." He teased Fraser,
mercilessly using the Canadian's phrase against him. 

"Ray."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing you need to know about."

Vecchio grinned wider. "Ok, Benny." He glanced at Lucia, then back at
Fraser. "So, who're we meeting again?" 

"Sgt. Frobisher. He's had reports of the Gangrel gathering at Fortitude
Pass." 

"Your favorite makeout spot," He ignored the look Lucia gave him. "Calhoun's
up there?" 

"Most likely."

"Maybe Stan should've come..."

"No."

***

"I should've gone..." Ray's voice was hoarse. Jay and Mina had returned,
and had helped him get to the couch. Dief had plopped next to him and
was clutching him like a child. "I should be up there..." 

"You're not well." Turnbull shook his head, "And you will not get well
if you go gallavanting around the NWT." He paused. There was one way,
but it gave him shivers just thinking about it. 

/They're stalling you, Yank. You need to be up there./

Ray looked up. The old Mountie was back.  Fraser's father.  Had to be.
He tried to think back. He remembered seeing maddening glimpses of this
man for  years, brief snatches of color and voices that had driven Ray
to doubt his own sanity.  Until Muldoon.  Until Ray had interfered with
fate and fate had lashed back.  This spirit had paid the price as well.

"I know," answered Ray. 
 
/She's too old. She's been on this plane too long and she's insane. Has
been for years.  You said it yourself a year ago: why have the vampires
changed over the past few decades? Why are there so many and why do they
all want to kill?/	As he spoke the elder Fraser moved to stand directly
in front of Ray.  
"Why?" 
 
He felt Turnbull's big hand on his forehead.  "The constable felt duty-bound,
detective, since Victoria /is/ a fugitive."  
/Because she's unstable.  Caine was smart. He put his family on hold
and took a nap./  
"How do you know about her?" 
 
Mina brought his medication as Turnbull prattled on.  "I've known for
ages. Since before I first met Constable Fraser.  The RCMS were tracking
Victoria for many reasons.  Constable Fraser just happened to be the
one in the wrong place at the right time."  
/Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I don't stay on top of these things,
Yank.  She almost killed my son.  She still wants to.  She'll be gunning
for you and everyone you know next.  If she's not stopped, all that will
be left is ashes./  
Ray sighed in misery, coughing and retching.  God, he was tired. Damn
this pneumonia.  He looked up at the unsympathetic Mountie.	"What'll
I do?"  
"Swallow these," coaxed Mina, forcing some anti-biotics on him. 
 
/Get up there and save him.  Remember what you said about him?/ 
 
"I'll die without him," whispered Ray. 
 
Jay and Mina looked at Turnbull in alarm. 
 
Fraser Sr. just nodded. 

***

"This is a bad idea," Jay said for the tenth time since Ray had made
them all pack up. Including Turnbull. The organization of this venture
had taken some doing, but Ray in his tenacity finally got the lot of
them ready to  go.  It had taken half a day since Mina wouldn't budge
without excessive amounts of anti-biotics and about a gallon of cough
syrup. "You're sick, Elder. You can't..." 

"I can and I will," He rubbed at his eyes, turning left towards the airport
and actually stopping at the red light.  "They need us. Especially since
Lucia the Wonder Vamp booked 'em to the wrong town." 

"I'll speak with her about paying attention, Ray..." Mina smiled, sweetly
then glanced at Turnbull. "Renfield?" 

Turnbull was staring out the window, nervously. They were in Prince Warfield's
territory and despite the usual Saturday crowds, he saw something was
amiss.  "They've started packing up. The vampires.  They're nervous."
He sat up as he stared at Warfield's bar as they drove by. "Oh dear."

"What?" Ray glanced over. "Shit...he's still here." He parked, hoping
out. Mina followed close behind, reluctant to let him out of her sight.
Jay stayed with the car and the werekid. 

***

"Warfield! Zuko!" Ray shouted as best he could, entering the bar. "You're
still here." He leaned on the polished wooden bar, coughing violently
for a few long moments as Mina and Turnbull caught up with him. 

Warfield nodded, almost sagely. His ancient eyes glittered in amusement
at the plight of the ghoulite elder trying to stand upright before him.
"The Tremere and the Giovanni are not children of Lilith. We'll stay
and fight after she has destroyed her own."  He looked out the window
at the slowly reddening skies.  "I'd suggest you do the same." 

"Nah. I've uh...I've got business with Lilith."

"The Mountie," Zuko nodded, frowning. 

Turnbull spoke up, standing close to Ray as he addressed the Prince.
"What do you mean, she'll destroy her own?"  
Warfield regarded the tall, young Slayer with interest, sensing something
about this man... "You're the Seeker."  
Unable and unwilling to deny the truth, Turnbull nodded.  "I am."  

"Of whose lineage?" 
 
Turnbull hesitated, then stated, "The House of Rachel." 
 
Impressed, Warfield leaned back in his chair.  "I met your grandfather
once, Renfield.  He was a good man for a Slayer and a Seeker and he brought
peace to the clans and helped us in a time of need.  Let me give you
advice in his memory: do not go north.  Lilitu or whatever she calls
herself this time has become warped. She is Mother no longer, but destroyer
of her own children. This one," he indicated the suffering Kowalski,
"carries in him a line that did not give her the regard she felt was
her due and so she wishes to eradicate them.  That she will wipe out
her entire family to do so is an indication of her instability."  
Absorbing these words with horror, Turnbull nevertheless replied, "My
superior officer and friend is walking into danger.  Victoria - Lilith-
has a score to settle with him as well."  
"I am sorry to hear that.  Sorry that a Seeker of such noble lineage
would throw his life away for the sake of something as fleeting as friendship.
But your world is not my world and I won't pretend to understand it 
anymore."  He looked over at Kowalski. "I do know enough, though, to
know you're in no condition to go to the Arctic in the winter.  Or any
other time.  You hid it well for a long time, Kowalski, but your body
is not up to the demands you place upon it."  
Zukko spoke up with a smirk.  "And Calhoun isn't what you'd call gentle
in his methods." 

"Yeah." Ray paused, hands in his pockets, trying not to shudder at the
memories of Calhoun teeth upon his throat, draining him.  Even paler
than when he'd entered the bar, he looked up at the vampire that had
been Vecchio's childhood friend. "Hey, Frankie?" 

"What?" 

"You've got a sister, right?  Irene." 
 
A long silence.  Then Zuko turned away, muttering, "Had.  I had a sister."

Ray pushed his glasses back into place on his nose. His prescription
had finally come in, they were a lot less conspicious than sunglasses.
"I've spoken to her.  I can do that at times.  She follows Vecchio around
a lot.  She's helped me, too."  
"Sounds like Irene." 
 
Ray shuffled his feet.	"Did you want to tell her anything?" 
 
Zuko stared at him as if to reassure himself there was no mockery in
the ghoulite's words.  Finally he said, "Tell her I'm sorry."  
Ray nodded. 
 
"Tell her I love her." 
 
"I will." 

***

Fraser stepped off the charter plane, looking around. Vecchio noticed
the confusion in his eyes. "What? What's wrong?" 

"This is Runamukluk." Fraser scrunched his forhead a bit. Frobisher was
no where in sight. He rubbed the temple, harshly. "Lucia." 

"Yes."

"We're supposed to be in Tuktoyatuk." He tried to sound calm. He was
aching inside. They were too far. Too far from where they needed to be.
He felt Vecchio's eyes on him, and frowned. "We need to find a phone."

***

Victoria approached Calhoun, staring him straight in the eyes. "You took
from Ellery? Drank from your sire's heart." 

"No."

"You didn't drink from Ellery." She didn't believe him.

"No. A ghoulite he wanted to suceed him. I was trying to help."

She smiled, bitterly. "You're lying. You're mad for power."

"You're insane. Why have you summoned us here?"

"You'll find out. In time. Now go, /Autarkis/." She apat out the word.
"Or I'll loose your clan on you." 

***

Frobisher looked at his wristwatch, whistling. "Clock must be off." Benton
Fraser was never late. He was too much like his father. No. His watch
must be off. 

***

The ride in the plane was hell for Ray Kowalski. 
 
Nauseous already, they hit a patch of turbulence over Ontario that had
the American desperately wishing he could just up and die.	He could barely
walk to the freezing cold bathroom on the plane and once they hit the
turbulance, he had to suffer in his seat.  Wedged between Dief and Mina,
he was oblivious to all conversation and looks of concern cast his way.
Food was out of the question, he couldn't even take the smell and he
vomited up the anti-biotic pills within a minute of swallowing them.
So he just tried to curl up as best he could and prayed for a swift death.

Turnbull wrapped him in blankets and Mina pulled his head onto her shoulder
while Dief lay close. 
  
He tried to sleep, but it was futile as the small plane drove forward
over the Canadian wilderness. 

He suddenly wanted desperately to go home. The closer they got to Tuktoyatuk,
the more he wanted to go home. Something was /wrong/ there. Something
bad was going to happen, and Ray was slowly realising it didn't have
anything to do with Fraser.   
Nothing at all. 

Fraser wasn't the target. Yet.
 
He pulled Dief into a hug, desperate for the comfort. He groaned at another
patch of turbulence, glaring at the dead man who'd talked him into doing
this. Or at least had given him the push.

Fraser's father sat calmly in one of the seats, seeminly enjoying the
flight.  Why the hell was he following  Ray around now?  Why didn't he
go bother Fraser?  Where were they going? What had made him think he
knew what to do once they got there?  
At least he hadn't dragged these people there. Well...okay, he'd dragged
Turnbull, but the rest had followed.  He wondered what Thatcher would
think  when she found the note at the temporary consolate telling her
he'd borrowed Turnbull.     
He welt a wave of melancholy come over him, and everthing started to
go dim. "Fraser?" He whispered, feeling Mina's very cold hand on his
cheek. It felt good. "Fray..." His eyes closed, and gradually his breathing
slowed.  
"Ray?" She rose her eyes to meet Turnbull. "Renfield?" 

"We should not have let him do this," whispered Turnbull.  He felt Ray's
forehead as Jay rose and watched with concern. "Keep an eye on him,"
the constable ordered, "especially his breathing.  I'm going to go have
a word  with our pilot." 
 
*** 
 
He was neither awake nor asleep, his body burning cold, his mind confused
by rivers of memories not all his own.  It started in darkness, gradually
taking shape until he was viewing in his mind images from the dawn of
the  world. Eden.  Lilith. Adam. The Shining One.  Eve.  Lilith scorned.
Three times. Her revenge.  Caine and his  cursed children.  

His own lifetime seemed paltry by comparison to the legacy of Lilith's
children, yet he saw their lives in this waking dream and found he did
not care.  The past was not a place where Ray Kowalski tended to dwell.
Not while he had Fraser.  

The whole history of the vampire kind passed unnoticed through his mind
as his thoughts centered on the man he  called friend and partner and
now lover.  He pushed aside the bloody images, the hunts, the massacers,
the shameful glory of a damned race and instead found peace in the memory
of the Mountie's smile.  
Was it just a day ago that Fraser had touched him so tenderly? It seemed
a lifetime without him near.  Those big hands so gentle as they undressed
Ray, the eyes so bright and clear as Fraser worshipped him with his own
perfect body.  It had been worth all the pain and misery he'd endured
to this point for that time alone with the one person who loved him above
all others, who did not judge, just accepted Ray Kowalski and everything
that Ray Kowalski meant.	

In his mind's eye he could see the Mountie's face studying him, leaning
close-  
Then the memory warped.  Not Fraser looking down at him - Victoria. 

"No!" he screamed. 

"You." She smiled, almost wickedly. "You're his childer. Ellery's. He
/chose/ you. You know why." 

"No...why are you doing this?" His breathing was coming in hard pants.
He could feel Mina getting him in a laid down position, awkward on the
flight chairs. "Why is she doing this...?" 

Victoria smiled. "You know why." 

He arched as Ellery's memories, things he hadn't known he had, suddenly
knowing exactly why Ellery had chosen him. He was afraid of her. He hated
her, knew her power, knew what she would do to his pack. To him, if she'd
caught up with him in time. And he'd chosen Ray to face her for him.

Fucking coward.

He'd done all this for a reason. "No. No..."  He was crying, he knew
it. He didn't want this, didn't want to be anywhere near her. Even if
she wasn't really there. This memory of Fraser, ruined forever. 

She gave him one last smile. "I'll get you, then I'll get Benton. Maybe
at the same time." She nodded, then was gone. Leaving him blank and cold
and alone. 

His get, what was left, was staring down at him frightened. Behind them
stood the silver-haired Mountie.  
"We....we....we have to hurry...she's gonna kill 'em..." 

/Not if you kill her first, yank./

***

Turnbull was on the radio to Frobisher. "Understood, sir. And thank you."
The watcher would meet them at the air strip, waiting with an air ambulance
to take the detective to the nearest hospital. The rest of them would
find the constable and his party, and get them all out of there. 

Let Lilith have her war.

***

Calhoun nervously chewed on the bit of rabbit he'd managed to catch.
Draining it. He hated animalism. It was odd for a gangrel, and he supposed
he wasn't one any longer. He seethed internally. Kowalski. If Ellery
had chosen him, instead of Kowalski this never would've happened. Hadn't
he served long enough, loyally enough?  What did Kowalski have about
him that Ellery had chosen him as his successor?  Was that what made
the Mother  spurn him? 
 
***

"No.  No!  I will not go to the hospital, Turnbull.  I have to find Fraser!"

"Ray, please.  You're in no condition to be anywhere /but/ the hospital
right now."  
"You don't get it, Turnbull!  Fraser is already heading to Victoria.
He knows where she is now and /she/ knows he's on to her. I have to go
find him first!"  
"Why you, Ray?" 

Ray couldn't answer. He shook his head. Turnbull stepped side, letting
the paramedics load Ray onto a gurney.  He could hear the whine of the
helecoptor's motor, feel the icey wind stirred up by the blades and knew
that if he left now, if they forced him away from this place, it would
be a disaster.  He found his voice for one final plea as the gurney was
wheeled towards the rear of the chopper. "Turnbull. Please. Don't." 

He could see no other way.  Ray was dangerously ill and this was no place
for him. "I'm sorry, Ray..."  
The constable backed away, holding onto his Stetson as the medivac chopper
lifted off the platform.  A final wave from the pilot, and they vanished
into the evening sky. 

***

Frobisher was waiting for him with the get and Dief.  The old Mountie
was a bit surprised at Dief's appearance but he was as flexable as a
man could be in his attitudes towards people.  Dief was Dief was Dief
and Frobisher was  only concerned he would now get chilled.  Turnbull
had expressed the same worry, but the werekid seemed unaffected by the
cold and still refused to wear anything on his feet or any other clothes
than an old t-shirt and loose pants and even these he barely tolerated.

Mina and Jay were likewise unaffected by the Arctic air, a point of concern
for Frobisher until Turnbull filled in a lot of details over bowls of
hot soup and coffee in the  airport's tiny canteen. 
 
"I knew something was up.  We never get this many tourists here.  There
have been flocks of ravens like I've never seen before congregating."

"Where?" 
 
"Fortitude Pass." 
 
"Constable Fraser will be headed there, Sgt. Frobisher." 
 
Frobisher smiled wanely, knowing Bob Fraser's son and what he would see
as the right thing to do. "Rushing in where angels fear to tread, eh?"

"Vampires, too," muttered Jay, slipping the rest of his soup over to
Diefenbaker.  
"Lilith...Victoria...is insane, Sergeant.  From what I understand, she
knows Ray is some kind of threat to her and seeks to eleminate all her
children. Perhaps she intends to start anew."  
Frobisher leaned back in his seat with a sigh.	"I've never seen anything
like this, Constable, I'll admit.  I was talking to the local shaman
over a beer the other night and he told me the woods are alive with the
dead. Even the trees are worried and according to him, evergreens don't
scare easy. All the animals are gone and the Inuit and even the trappers
who don't know  better are pulling out of the area around Fortitude Pass.
He found a herd of caribu - two hundred at least - dead.  Drained.  Untouched
except by these damned ravens.  When the scavengers leave, you know it's
bad, son."  
"Can you contact the Constable?" 
 
"I've been trying since yesterday.  I even called the 27th.  Vecchio
has a phone but this far north and in this weather, those things are
sketchy. I've left word with every post between Runamukluk and here to
contact us if  they show, but if we're in the field that'll be useless
unless Benton brought a radio."  
Turnbull sighed, unused to the lack of communication this wilderness
presented.  He looked up at Mina and Jay.  "You don't have to come. 
You can join the Elder."  
Mina shook her head.  "We'll come, Renfield." 
 
"I would never be able to face the Elder if I let his Slayer come to
harm," Jay said bravely.  
***

He felt the paramedics working on him and closed his eyes as he felt
the smooth lift-off.  Another day, another hospital, only this one was
destined to have a Canadian accent.  Meanwhile, his stubborn Mountie
lover was basically heading straight into the lion's den without so much
as a clue to guide him.  Great. He could smack Turnbull.  If the Constable
hadn't had that extra six inches and fifty pounds on him, he probably
would have tried, pneumonia or no pneumonia.  And everybody /helped/
him!  Geeze, where was their loyalty?  Except Diefenbaker. 

At least the werewolf had been an impartial spectator.  He sighed, suddenly
feeling cold again, trying to relax as the minutes stretched on and his
coughing reached new  levels of uncomfortable.  The RCMS paramedic that
was in the cramped cabin with him moved forward and he could hear concerned
voices.  

Not about him at least.  About the time?  Timing?  Why weren't they there?

Suddenly the voices were alarmed. 
 
"Where the hell are we?" demanded the co-pilot. 
 
/Yank!/ 
 
Dad was back.  Ray croaked, "Fraser?" 
 
/Yank, you have to get out of this thing!  She manipulated the instruments!
This chopper is headed straight to Fortitude Pass!/  
Ray let out a startled yelp as the helecoptor suddenly dipped. The paramedic
was scrambling to get into his seat and the pilots were fighting the
controls.  A moment of calm followed, then the pilot said in a voice
full of disbelief,  
"Oh, my god." 
 
*** 
 
He couldn't, didn't blame Lucia.  He should not have been so hastey in
his preparations.  It was a lesson learned.  A bitter, difficult lesson,
but he knew that he would never repeat it.  Nor would Lucia.  
The RCMS post at Runamukluk had an excellent dog team and enough supplies
for the them to set out within three hours of their arrival.  Food, water,
bedding, stakes, silver bullets and two guns, holy water, and a bundled
up, miserable Ray Vecchio were piled into the sled while Fraser stood
behind and Lucia, with that eerie tirelessness of the undead, kept time
alongside them.  
"Where are we going?" asked a muffled voice.  Ray was not happy and he
wanted very badly to lynch Lucia.  It wouldn't have any effect, seeing
as how the girl was alreay dead, but it might drive home the importance
of  correct pronunciation of remote Arctic towns with weird Inuit names.

"Fortitude Pass.  I realised Victoria would want to return to a place
familiar and rather signifigant to her."  
"You, too." 
 
"Rather." 
 
"Hey, Benny?" 
 
"Yes, Ray?" 
 
"You ever going to explain that 'nothing' from the flight up here?" 

"Probably not."  He grinned despite himself, knowing he was being teased.

"Wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Stan didn't have enough
oomph to stand up after, would it?"  
"Ray is suffering from a severe case of pneumonia.  He's very weak on
his own, thank you, Ray."  
"Doesn't need your help to be limp as a rag right now." 
 
"Not at all." 
 
"But you helped him along anyway, right?" 
 
"What are friends for?" 
 
Ray chuckled.  "Friends.  Right.  Want to buy some ocean-front property
in Saskatchewan?"  
*** 
 
"It's fifty miles from here," Frobisher was saying, leading them away
from the canteen.  "With so many vampires around, dogs will be a liability."

"What do you suggest?" asked Turnbull.	He was the first to admit he was
out of his element.  He was from Ottawa and this was the furthest north
he'd ever been.  He had some training, but he was not in the same category
as Buck or Fraser when it came to surviving in the Territories.  
Frobisher was leading them to a garage by the airport's hangar.  He pushed
open a door to reveal several snow mobiles.  
"Here we go." 
 
Turnbull looked at Jay as the Asian boy sighed.  Love at first sight.

***

The plane lurched and so did Ray. He felt hands trying to keep him down
and pulled them away. "What's wrong? What's going on?" 

/She's trying to crash the chopper. She's going to kill you, Yank. If
she can./ 

"No. How do I stop her?"

/Know how to fly a plane? Didn't think so. Strap in, and cover your head.
This bird's going down./ 

Ray did as he was told, shaking hard. He was scared, for Ben for the
people on this chopper. For himself. He was /not/ ready to die and come
back. 

Not ready at all. 

The chopper started to shake around him, and he moaned. He could /hear/
her laughing, and Fraser's dad trying to keep him calm. "What do I do?
What do I do when we're down?" 

/You fight./

A scream from the co-pilot as the cockpit burst into flames.  The medic
was desperately reaching for the fire extinguisher hanging on the wall.
Ray winced, as much at the light of the flames as at the pilot's desperate
cries of, "May day!  May day!  We're going down!" 
 
/Fight for your life, Yank, you're the only one who can do it./ 

***

She raised her hands towards the sky, towards the chopper. Concentrating.
It began to tremble in the air, then suddenly falling. She didn't make
it crash. She didn't want him dead. Not yet. She smiled as the plane
fell, almost at her feet. The fire not even touching her. 

***

Vecchio saw it first. It was like a burning fireball, like a meteorite.
He lowered the binoculars and handed them to Lucia. "What the hell was
that?" 

"A helicopter." Fraser bit his lower lip. "Why should she want to crash
a chopper?" 

Lucia shook her head. "It's a medivac. RCMS. Pilot's getting out." She
adjusted the binocular's as they continued. They were near the Pass,
but not close enough for Victoria to see them yet. 

"Medivac." Fraser's stomach suddenly ached. "No. He wouldn't."

His heart skipped a beat for a number of reasons.

She allowed the pilot to get two feet before seizing him.

He lowered the glasses.

/Ray.../

***

Ray heard the pilot scream, and he struggled to release himself from
the straps on the gurney and get to his feet.  The sliding door was open
and of the medic there was no sign.  The co-pilot, the fortunate one,
was dead in his seat.  Unsteady, he went out into the snow, sick and
frightened and cold.  

It was worse than the letting. Worse than anything he had ever imagined.
A fitting addition to the river of memories he'd dreamed before.  
He was in a rocky, wooded pass deep with snow.	A fire burned, casting
a bloody red glow onto the snow and tainting the clear night sky with
heavy smoke.	He could see the forests around were teeming with the undead.
Thousands of vampires that had answered their mother's call, clinging
to the trees as they moved so that the slopes seemed to be crawling with
beetles. It was nauseating to see.  How many centuries of death had converged
here in the wilderness?  
He slowly circled around the smoldering helecoptor, then tripped over
something steaming and sticky. The medic.  Dead.  A bloody heap of flesh
and bone staring at Ray with panicked eyes.  He scrambled away in the
snow,  horrorfied. 
 
Then he saw her.  The woman who'd invaded his dreams.  Victoria.  

She stood in the middle of a circle of ancient and evil-looking vampires:
Elders of the many clans that had heeded her call.  Their faces were
pale, devoid of expression as they watched their queen.  
She held the pilot up by his bloodstained flight jacket and as he watched,
she plunged her fangs into the man's throat.  In seconds, the pilot was
dead.  
Ray closed his eyes, whispering, "Oh, my god." 
 
*** 
 
Fraser strained to /be/ there as he looked through the binoculars, watching
with a rising panic as Victoria lashed out at the pilot.  
"Oh, my god." 
 
*** 
 
"Ben." 

Their eyes locked, dark eyes to dark eyes and she laughed. 
 
He felt it.  Saw it.  In his mind, she had Ben. In his mind, Ben was
dying. He was filled with utter terror and horror. And anger. He wanted
her dead. He wanted revenge. 

And he'd get it.

Something overtook him, took him over. Ellery.  /His/ hatred, /his/ fear,
but the need for vengance was all Ray's.  He growled, his teeth baring.
He could feel his gums pulling back, and narrowed his eyes. The elders
scattered as he lashed out at her, hands like claws. His attack knocked
her into a tree. She stared at him, dazed and shocked. But not quite.
She seemed to expect it. 

Just not that soon.

***

Fraser's jaw hit the floor. "Oh my God...Ray!" He forced the dogs to
move faster, shouting for Lucia to hurry. Vecchio was shouting at him
to stop. 

"Benny, what's happening? What's wrong?"

"They'll kill each other..."

***

At the end of the valley, Frobisher halted.  They could see the fire's
glow and while there was little for the ears to pick up on, they all
knew something hideous awaited them just ahead.  
Turnbull looked over at the Sergeant.  "Can we get closer?" 
 
"Just a little.  The terrain gets too steep for the snow mobiles and
we need to conserve fuel.  We can - Dief!"  
In a blur of motion, the child leapt down from behind Jay and started
running, changing into a wolf as he moved and blending in with the night.
In seconds he was out of sight.  
"Let him go," said Turnbull.  "Let's move." 
 
They pulled out, never noticing Calhoun watching them from the rocks
above. Dropping down to the ground when they'd left, he set off in pursuit.

***

She fought back, managing to get in a few good swipes. They were both
frenzied, clawing at each other like wolves, trying to get the best of
each other. 

"It's better when you fight it, Kowalski..." She snarled. "I'll get him
again. Rip out his heart..." 

He let out a howl, leaping. Surprising himself. He knocked her into the
side of the pass, biting deep into her neck, holding her up. She struggled
in his grip, clawing at him still. 

But she wanted this. She knew what would happen to him. And she wanted
it. She was laughing. 

***

Fraser stepped off the sled, gaping in horror as he watched his love
do the one thing he'd hoped he'd never have to see. He was close to screaming,
walking slowly towards the circle of vampires that surrounded the two
fighters. "No..." 

Why weren't they stopping it? Why wasn't he?

Ray drained her, slowly. Barely aware of what he was doing. His heart
was pounding fast in his ears his breathing matched her death screams.
He let her body fall to the ground, growling. Still in the frenzy. 

He wanted more. He needed more. 

From where he crouched behind a tree, Calhoun was staring at Kowalski,
shocked.  He'd never seen or heard tell of a ghoulite attacking a vampire,
much less draining one to death.  Certainly not one as all-powerful as
Lilith.  All instincts were telling him to run. 

He was about to obey when he spotted his childe, Lucia, with the cop
Vecchio.  They'd arrived with the Slayer. 

"Ray...?" Fraser stared at the detective's back. He saw Victoria, dying
on the ground. He couldn't see Ray's face. "Ray. Look at me..." 

Ray seemed to sniff the air, still in the frenzy. He turned his gaze
towards Fraser. 

The mountie didn't like what he saw there. Blood lust. He took a step
back, shaking his head. "Ray. No." 

He was unprepared for the American to leap at him. 

***

A few yards away, Ray Vecchio struggled to free himself from the dog
sled, not even trying to understand what was unfolding before him.  
"Benny!"  Vecchio screamed, drawing the gun he carried illegally.  Something
slammed into him, hard, smashing him down into the snow, something insanely
strong.  He fought for breath, twisting around until he was faced with
familiar blue eyes.  
Calhoun laughed. 
 
*** 
 
"Dear God in heaven..." 
 
"I don't think God has much to do with this, Sergeant," said the Seeker.
They stood at the fringe of the gathering, watching the eerie shadows
dance on the snow until Turnbull pointed.  
"There!  The medivac chopper!  She sabotaged it somehow." 
 
"Or the men on it," Frobisher agreed grimly.  "There's Kowalski!"  

"Slayer!" exclaimed Mina, seeing Fraser as he approached the ring of
elders in the distance.  
Turnbull's eyes grew wider as he recognized what was happening.  "Ray!
NO!"  
***

Fraser could feel Ray's teeth at his neck and closed his eyes tight.
He knew he could fight back, that he could easily overpower Ray. But
he didn't want to hurt him. In his condition... 

Then again, maybe he couldn't. Ray had managed to drain /Lilith/ in his
condition. God knows what he could do to an unresisting human. 

He touched Ray's face, gently, trying to get his attention. "Ray. Ray,
look at me...Ray..." 

Ray didn't seem to hear him. He inhaled, breathing in the scent of blood.
He needed it, wanted it. He tested the skin of the neck under him. 

/Yank, don't.../

He ignored the voice, annoyed suddenly. He bit down, not as hard or as
deep as before. Blood filled him, fresh blood. Living blood. He felt
the throat arch under him, fingers curling in his hair. 

Familiar fingers.

"No..." His voice was barely a whisper.  "Ben..." He pulled back, shaking.
"Ben." 

***

Dief ran towards the foul smelling vampire about to attack his pack mate's
other, and snarled. Lucia, the fighter of The Three, was right behind
him. He snarled, leaping. Scratching and clawing at Calhoun, recognizing
the scent of the one who hurt his pack mates. He got a lot of scratches
in. 

They looked painful. The foul one, /Calhoun/, fell back. He was startled
that a werewolf would attack him here and now, but this was the slayer
of Ellery.  He did the only thing he could. He ran. 

Vecchio stared at Dief. Wolf form. "Thanks...I think." He inhaled, deeply
then exhaled. "Where's Benny...?" 

He shot up as he heard Turnbull's shout. "Benny!"

***

Ray Kowalski came to himself in a rush of guilt and shame and fear that
threatened to drown him.  He pulled back, staring at the familiar white
throat all smeared with the blood he had drawn with his own teeth.  Fraser.
Ben.  Oh, dear lord, Benton.  
What had he done?  How far had he gone? 
 
He tried to listen for a heart beat, feel for Fraser's chest to rise
beneath him.  He couldn't hear but for a roaring in his own ears.  
He was trembling so hard he couln't form any words.  Forgotten was Lilith,
the vampires, the awful scene of death.  Everything was cast aside in
light of his attack on Fraser.  God. Was he dead?  Had he killed him?
What had he done?  
"B-Ben?" he whispered, too frightened to raise his voice above a faint
whisper or to look at that beloved face.  He could smell the blood. 
A moment ago it had been intoxicating.  Now he wanted to vomit at the
stench.  
"...ben..." 
 
Fraser abruptly coughed, still lying in the snow with Ray's weight upon
him, his fingers still lovingly twined in the blond hair.  He shifted
his hands, slowly caressing Ray's head with gentle strokes as he always
did when he wanted to calm his lover.  One hand shifted down to stroke
the detective's back as Fraser posessively held him, cared for him. 
It was that simple, wordless gesture that told Ray all was forgiven.
Fraser would not hold this against him or accuse him.  He loved him still
despite what he had done.  
Overwhelmed, Ray rested his head against the broad chest.  "I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry-"  
"Benny!" 
 
Suddenly Ray was yanked away.  He fell into the snow and Vecchio leveled
a gun at him as he assisted Fraser with his free hand.  
"Did he hurt you?  My god, you're bleeding!  What did this son-of-a-bitch
do to you?"  
"Ray, I'm fine," assured the Mountie, sitting up.  "Don't hurt him, he
hasn't -"  
"He just offed Metcalf and almost you and you say you're /fine/?"  

"Ray, you're hysterical." 
 
Diefenbaker came running up, pausing by Fraser.  Absently holding the
werewolf, Fraser was far more interested in getting to Ray Kowalski.

The American had struggled to his feet and stood clutching both arms
around his middle, trembling and shivering so hard Fraser expected him
to collapse.  
Suddenly Ray started coughing. The violence of the reflex dropped him
to the snow once again.  Suddenly he collapsed to all fours and his thin
body  arched as he began to vomit Victoria's blood.

Vecchio stared, gunhand shaking in force. He swallowed at the sickening
sight of blood and bile on the snow, of Kowalski covered with more blood.
"Benny, what's happening?" 

Fraser shook his head. "I don't...I don't know." He went to Ray's side,
trying to hold him up. His skin was so cold. "Find Turnbull. He must
be here if Dief is..." 

Ray shuddered in Fraser's arms, his skin burning, his throat on fire.
The blood kept coming up. "Fra..." He gagged again, choking on the blood.
It was too much.	He was merely a ghoulite, not a vampire.  His system
could  not abide such a potent draught. 

"Ray...Ray, calm down." Slowly, under Fraser's stroking, soothing hands
the tremors ceased, and Ray collapsed in Fraser's arms. Blood running
down his face, down his shirt. It stank of death. 

For the first time in a long while, Fraser looked up. 
 
They were surrounded by the Elders.  Their faces were shadowed, but their
eyes gleamed with unholy fire.  
Silence.  All was silence.  The vampires in the woods were still, watching.
Waiting.  What for?  Why were they still alive?  What kept the vampires
from slaughtering tham all?	Ray?  Could it be because he had killed Lilith?
As with Ellery, was he now the one to lead the elders?  
Was he a vampire? 
 
A sound of crunching footsteps in the snow and Turnbull came running
up to them, Ray Vecchio and Dief on his heels.  The Seeker faced the
Elders squarely, his strong voice the only thing breaking the intense
silence.   Three clear, ringing words echoed through the pass. 
 
"It's dawn.  Begone." 
 
So it was.  And the ravens screamed and took to the air. 

***

With Turnbull and Frobisher's help, they'd managed to get Ray to an abandoned
cabin they had passed on their way from Tuktoyatuk. Vecchio wasn't sure
exactly what had happened, Fraser said he'd gotten so into the blood
frenzy he couldn't stop, but that didn't make sense. Did it? 

Leaving the get with Turnbull and Dief by the mouth of the pass, the
rest of the party took two snow mobiles and the dog sled back to the
two-room cabin. 
  
Fraser picked the lock with alarming skill, and as Frobisher set about
securing the dogs and building a fire the Constable carried Ray into
the bedroom.  The cabin was clearly a trapper's, stocked with some food
and  medical supplies and bedding.  It had stood empty for some time
as evidenced by the dust on the table.  
Frobisher poked his head into the bedroom.  "I'll be back.  I want to
make sure they don't get lost."  
"Thank you, Sergeant." 
 
"There's some soup.  You might want to think about eating something."

Fraser just nodded, intent on the unconscious detective.  He touched
the sodden clothes.  "We have to get him out of these clothes and get
him warmed." 

So now they lay on the bed, holding Ray between them. Hugging him close
to  keep him warm.  It had taken a lot of effort to get him changd out
of the bloody clothes amd he simple wore Fraser's red thermals.  He was
swimming  in them and if Stan wasn't so desperately ill, Vecchio knew
he would have laughed at the sight. 

Ray was freezing, bordering on hypothermic. He remained unconcscious,
his feet curled into Vecchio's legs, his head pillowed on Fraser's shoulder.

Victoria...Lilith's blood had had some sort of weird effect on Ray. It'd
thrown his body out of whack. Vecchio didn't like it. 

Nor did he like the look on Fraser's face. "Benny?"

"His pulse. It's slow."

"Hypothermia?" 
 
The Mountie shook his head, biting his lower lip before whispering, "I
don't know.  It could be that...or the pneumonia...or..."  
Kowalski coughed, his whole body tensing.  Vecchio twitched, uncomfortable
with what he'd been witness to.  Calhoun's assault had scared him senseless
and he thanked god Deifenbaker had shown up when he did.  If he hadn't....he
shuddered, shoving the thought away for later. Nightmares seemed guaranteed
tonight.  
As if in sympathy, Kowalski began to shiver.  Senseless, he groaned,
a pained and frightened sound and he clung desperately to Fraser.  
"What is he, a dog?" joked Vecchio, watching the Mountie pet the blond's
hair.  
"The best way to calm him is to touch him, Ray.  He's never been able
to rely on his sight.  Why do you think he touches everything?  Without
his glasses he can barely see."  
"He must be hell in a museum." 

Fraser bit back a smile. "He won't go to the Natural History museum.
Too many ghosts."  
Vecchio grinned. "Yeah, all those dinosaurs..." 
 
Fraser felt another shudder from Ray, and pulled him closer. He frowned.
The detective's skin was clammy, his hands and legs sweating over time,
while the rest of him froze. "Ray, help me hold him."   
"Benny, I don't." 
 
"Ray."	
 
Vecchio sighed, getting his arms around Kowalski. He felt ridiculous.
They held Ray between them, trying to calm him, trying to calm themselves.
Something was seriously wrong, and it didn't have anything to do with
the pneumonia.  
 
"Or what, Benny?" 
 
"Pardon?" 
 
"It could be hypothermia, pneumonia or what?" 
 
Fraser opened his mouth to answer, stopped when he saw Ray's eyes open
a few centimeters. "Ray? Can you hear me?"  
"mmm." Ray's throat hurt. Burned. He coughed hard, groaned as he felt
their grips around his shoulders and waist tighten. "where...?"  
"A cabin." 
 
"Lil..." 
 
"Dead." 
 
"sure...?"

***

The get knew Turnbull was nervous as they waited for Frobisher to return.
He would have preferred not to split up their party, but Ray quite simply
would have died if he was exposed to the elements much longer. It was
strange for Turnbull to see the American devoid of his usual boundless
energy.  
Diefenbaker whined.  He was a child again, clearly aching to go run in
the woods around them.  He looked at Turnbull hopefully, but the Constable
shook his head.  
"No. We were told to wait for the Sergeant right here." 
 
Another whine, and he sat down on Lucia's feet. 
 
With the dawn, the forest semed normal.  He knew there would be teams
out looking for the downed chopper and its tragic crew and he actually
prayed the rescue effort failed.  At least until the woods were safe
again.  
He wanted desperately to go back and reassure himself the Victoria was
truely dead.  It had been too easy.  She could have - /should/ have destroyed
Ray with one glance. That she hadn't spoke volumes and told Turnbull
this was far from over.  
"Renfield?" 
 
He looked up as Mina touched his arm.  He knew it was rediculous, but
he thought he could feel a warmth through his parka where her hand rested
on him.  He was bundled up within an inch of his life and yet the three
McGets  wore the minimum amount of gear so as not to raise suspicions.
Like Diefenbaker, they could have walked around in bare feet and shorts
and not notice the bitter cold and icey winds.  
Interesting that Ray could not...But Ray still had a soul.  Did the McGet?
More importantly to him, did Mina?   How did you ask such a question?

"What is it?" asked Mina, concern showing in her hazel eyes. 
 
He covered her hand with his.  "I'm just thinking.  It was too easy."

"Easy?" 
 
"The blood hunt was more violent than this.  Victoria - excuse me, Lilith
is up to something."  
"What?" 
 
"I wish I knew." 

*** 
 
Another bought of coughing shook Ray and Fraser sat him up in the bed
the easier to breath as his body fought the sickness posessing him. 
Fraser rubbed his back, grimacing as he could count every rib through
the thermals. 
  
Ray was clearly having difficulty taking a breath and despite their efforts,
he was still cold.  
"Ray, could you get him some water?" asked Fraser of his other bedmate,
the reluctant Ray Vecchio who did not want to be cuddled up under the
covers with Ray Kowalski, ghoulite or otherwise, under /any/ conditions,
even if it  was to save Kowalski's life.  He'd seen and heard too much
the past six months for him to ever relax around his one-time replacement.

"Sure, Benny.  Right back." 
 
Frovisher had placed a pot of snow near the fire and it was liquid now.
Ray found a clean glass, figuring if Kowalski caught anything from a
dirty glass he couldn't be any worse off, and after filling the glass
he took a moment to tend the fire.  
Was Irene here? 
 
He felt a certain contentment at the idea.  Irene.  So beautiful.  If
only...  
*** 
 
Fraser cradled the blond head to his chest, leaning back against the
bedstead.  This was bad.  Ray was desperately ill.  He should have known
the detective would have followed him up here.  It was so Ray.  Annoying,
but  Ray.  Touching, too, that he would be willing to risk all once again
to protect him...  
Having Ray in his arms stirred memories of two days ago and the passion
they had shared.  fraser thought, remembering...the Flash.  Ray had seen
himself  fighting Victoria /over/ some thing or some one.  He had seen
Fraser looking up at the night sky as he tried to save the dying vampires.

It hit him in a terrible rush. 
 
Victoria could not be dead.  Not yet. 
 
"...fra...ben?" 
 
Suddenly more frighteded than he could say, he gathered Ray closer and
pressed his lips to the blond hair before he said, "Yes?" in a voice
that was amazingly calm.  
Ray struggled to speak, his voice a whisper.  "Feel...wrong." 
 
Wrong? 
 
"Hurts."

No. "What hurts, Ray?"	
 
"Blood...her...sh..." More coughing. He felt a glass against his lips
and had to fight to swallow the water. He kept his eyes squeezed shut,
shaking hard.   
Vecchio watched, shocked at the look of fear that was only in Ben's eyes.
"What's wrong with him?"   
Fraser shook his head. "I don't know." He kept his hand on Ray's back,
trying to calm the hacking coughs. And his own shattering nerves. "Ray,
what is it?"  
"...sure she's dead..." 
 
"Yes. Of course..." Fraser lied. Badly.  
 
/Ray./ 
 
Irene's voice was very calm in the midst of all the panic. She stood
beside Vecchio, seemingly having every idea of what was going on. /Ray,
look at me.../  
"...rene?" 
 
"She's here?" Fraser wasn't surprised, after all Vecchio was here. So
should she be.  
Vecchio stared at where Ray was staring, startled. He couldn't see her.
In the warehouse he'd seen...something. But now...  
"..rene...what's ha..." More hacking. He could feel something twisting
in him. He shuddered. 

"Ray, Lilith is trying to make you into something you cannot become."
She frowned, watching him carefully.  
He opened his eyes.  Even the twilight of a windowless room hurt and
he squinted at her.  "Can'...t?"  
"Must not," she corrected.  "Dare not." 
 
"Why?" 
 
"Caine is rising." 
 
"Caine?  So?" 
 
"Ray...you have a soul." 
 
The pain grew in his belly until he could think of nothing else and he
writhed in Fraser's arms.  Small gasping screams escaped his lips as
he tried to twist away from this agony.  
"Oh-god-please-Frase-make-it-stop!" 
 
Burning.  The blood was burning him.  Too much for a mere human to handle.
Too much for a ghoulite.  Too much even for an Elder.  He clung to Fraser,
clawing at him weakly, desperate for the sanctuary his lover represented.

"Is this a flash?" He could barely hear Vecchio's frightened voice. 

"I don't think so." 
 
A faint, whimpering, mewing sound reached his ears.  Ray barely realised
he was making it.  
And then, for one moment, clarity.  Like the eye of a hurricane.  

He was being remade in her image. 
 
A toy soldier for her amusement.  To do battle against Caine. 
 
An anomaly.  A rogue.  Her dark horse.	Ellery's heir. 
 
//"My son chose well."// 
 
Victoria's voice.  Robert Fraser's voice.  Speaking together. 
 
Ray forced his eyes open. 
 
//She's playing with your mind, Yank.// 
 
Fraser's dad stood at the foot of the bed. 
 
//She made you think she'd killed Benton.  This is the result. She's
pushing you to where she wants you to be.  Next she'll have you go after
Caine, to weaken or distract him so she can close in.//  
Another spasm of pain.	His companions were helpless against it. 
 
//Good move that, vomiting.  You've only absorbed a fraction of what
you took.  If you hadn't vomited, you'd be so undead you'd make the antidilluvian
crowd look like amateurs.  Painful, though, I take it.//  
"Ah!"  He clenched his teeth, trying not to scream. 
 
//Just remember, Yank, fight her.  Don't do what she wants.  You know
what's right. Do it.//  
He wanted to die.  He couldn't any more, could he?  But Irene said he
had a soul.  That had to count for something.  Didn't it? 

"Ray. Ray. Ray, look at me. Open your eyes." Fraser had Ray by the chin,
was trying to make him look. "Ray, what's she saying. What's wrong?"

"Li..not de..." He stomach clenched tightly and he doubled over. "No...God-God-No...Fraser...Ben..."

Vecchio helped Fraser pull Ray into a sitting position. "Stan. What're
you feeling. Tell me what's happening." 

//You're mine. Not Ellery's. Mine.//

"No...hurts..."

Fraser stared in horror as minor convulsions wracked his lover's body.
"Ray, help me..." He got his arms around Ray's body, trying to hold him
still. All reluctance tossed aside for fear, Vecchio did the same. "You're
ok...calm down...you're fine..." 

"Please...please hel..."

***

Lucia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her stomach ached painfully.
She caught Turnbull's concerned gaze. "The Elder..." She offered, quietly.
She'd been of the party that had performed the original letting. She
had some of his blood in her. They were connected. 

Dief tossed, quietly in his sleep. Turnbull raised an eyebrow. "Something's
wrong?" 

"Yes."

"Can you tell what?"

"Lilith. She's done something to him. He's in pain. Too much pain." 

"Do you know what she's done?  Can you tell?" 
 
"She's...in him.  She wants to fill him." 
 
"Why?" 
 
Her eyes were a million miles away, centuries in the past and her voice
was barely a whisper.  "Caine has awakened." 

***

He could feel her in his head. Alive. Talking. Twisting his mind and
his inner body. "Stop...It's too much..." 

"Stan..." Vecchio had suddenly taken to Kowalski as he would a sick niece
or nephew. Rubbing his back, trying to calm him. Fraser had gone to see
if he could meet Frobisher half way. Before he'd gone, they had managed
to change him into a t-shirt and boxers, the thermals had been hurting
him.  "Stan, keep talking...Talk.  Tell me what's happening.  Tell me
so we can help you.  What's too much?"  
"Her.  In.  Me.  Hurts."  He gulped, coughing, alternately trembling
and sweating.  Vecchio was forcing more water on him.  He almost gagged
on it.  
"She's in you. From the blood.  Right?" 
 
A sharp nod. 
 
"What does she want?" 
 
"Me.  I...hava soul.  Needs me.  Made me.  Made Ellery do-do this t-to
me."  
"Fraser said Ellery hated her." 
 
"She m-made him." 
 
"Made him hate her.  I get it. She set him up because she needed someone
like you."  
Kowalski nodded, eyes squeezed tightly shut. 
 
"Why?" 
 
"Kill...Caine - Ah!" 
 
The gasp of pain cut to Vecchio's heart and he held Kowalski close and
tight as the younger man began to cry against his shoulder.  
"Please...please...I don' want...don' wanna do...please...please..."

"Aw, Stan." He held Ray tighter, trying to ease the pain and shaking.
"It's ok. Fraser'll know what to do..."  
"Help me...help...ah...god..." 

Vecchio was suddenly filled with rage against Victoria. Lilith. Whatever.
Why would she do this to Kowalski? What point did it serve? She didn't
even /know/ him. Certainly he couldn't hope to fight someone as strong
as Caine and win. 

Then again, he'd killed that Assasin that was trying to kill him. 

"Stan?" Kowalski's sobs had suddenly eased, the shaking stopped.

/Yank, you have to fight it./

"Can't...can..t...fight..."

"Stan, how do I help you?" Ray demanded, trying to keep Stan talking.
"Talk to me." 

***

"He's in pain?" Frobisher had turned his sled around and was heading
back towards the cabin with Fraser. "Maybe it was just too potent for
him. I'm sure it's nothing..." He didn't sound too sure. 

Fraser shook his head. "His fever's broken. Could the blood have done
that?" 

"No. But Lilith could."

"What?"

"There's a legend...third rate rumour, actually. A tale of Gehenna we
don't like to get out. We don't need a pack of loons with messiah complexes
springing up." Frobisher paused. "It speaks of a blind seer despised
by the  sun, with the power of a knight - that's knight with a 'k', by
the way - and darkness that will host Lilith's might and battle Caine
in her stead. This seer is supposed to be betrayed by his sire." 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"The legend has this seer with dark hair and eyes. Ray's not dark haired."

"No. Not now..."

"What is it, Benton?" 
 
Fraser swallowed.  "The Giovanni Prince, Warfield, told Ray his hair
color made the elders sneeze.  Ray actually said the other day that his
hair hurt."  
"His /hair/?  Well, maybe I can see that." 
 
***

Vecchio held the barely conscious Kowalski under the shower, still dressed.
He was not prepared to undress the guy a third time. Twice was enough,
but unless Benny returned by the time they ran out of hot water, he knew
he was doomed.His fever had suddenly sprung up, and wouldn't go down.
His legs were like rubber, barely supporting him. 

"Come on, Stan. You've gotta help me here..." He tightened his grip around
Stan's waist, trying to keep him from slipping. Ended up sliding down
the wall into a sitting position, taking Kowalski's with him. "Ok. We
could stay here..." 

He adjusted the flow of the shower, and let Stan's head rest against
his shoulder. "Fraser's gonna love this. Stella too..." He touched the
detective's forhead. "God. You're on fire..." 

"mm?"

"Just an expression. Any more pain?"

"Mmm...no..." THe minute the negative came, he grimaced. A cramp in his
stomach. 

"Right. He'd better hurry..."

/You should've fought harder.../

"I shouldn't be here..."

"Uh..." Vecchio began nervously. 
 
"...yet." 
 
"What?" puzzled the Italian. 

/What?/

"Shouldn't be here yet...not time..." An intake of breath. "My hair hurts..."

***

Turnbull was starting to feel the cold as he sat with reluctant patience,
waiting for Sgt. Frobisher to return for them.	He was not comfortable
remaining this close to Fortitude Pass, but he had his orders and he
would  wait.  Diefenbaker curled up on his booted feet and the Constable
found himself grateful for the slight warmth.  Mina sat beside him while
Jay and Lucia (who had yet to recover from her feeling of guilt for misdirecting
the  Slayer's party) quietly talked a few feet away. 
 
The sun would be slipping towards the horizen soon and Turnbull had no
desire to be caught out here at night. He peeled back the sleeve of his
parka and glanced at his watch.  If Frobisher did not return in an hour,
they would start walking, following the trail left by machine and dogs.

Suddenly Dief was on his feet and growling more savagely than any of
them had ever heard.  In a heartbeat the scrawny boy was gone and a wolf
was scrambling to get his front legs on the log next to Turnbull.  The
Constable  turned and looked behind them. 
 
The Elders. 
 
Mina gasped and the other McGet drew close.  There were at least twenty
of them in a line, their skin as white as the snow and their eyes gleaming
with unnatural light.  Some were dressed for the Arctic, some were in
robes, a  few were naked and feral.  Turnbull drew himself up to his
full height, facing them squarely even as he laid a hand on Dief's back
to calm the werewolf.  
/Day walkers,/ thought Turnbull, trying to conceil his nervousness. 
They wouldn't stand a chance if so many elders attacked.  
One moved forward.  He was ancient, dressed in rich silk robes and a
fur-edged head dress like something out of the Arabian Nights. Ancient
wisedom shone in his black eyes, and when he spoke it was with a strong
voice and an accent Turnbull could not place.  
"Where is the Eldest, Son of Rachel?" 
 
"My lord, he is sick in body and the Mother has poisoned his mind." 

"How can such an one be sick?" demanded the old vampire. 
 
With a shocking thrill, Turnbull suddenly realized he was speaking to
a being that was almost older than civilization. Older than the Flood...older
than the Covenant or Soloman's temple.	He predated Ilium and the Vedas,
had seen empires rise and fall to dust.  There could not be many like
him in the world.	An ancient that would outlive Gehenna...  
"The one you speak of is a ghoulite, my lord."	Turnbull saw confusion
at the unfamiliar term and quickly added, "He is not as you.  He is not
undead.  His soul remains."  
An amused glint filled those black eyes and a ripple seemed to flow through
the Elders.  They were not pleased with such news.  The get shifted uneasily,
intimidated beyond words and amazed that the Seeker even had a  voice
in the face of such power. 
 
The speaker was struck by the irony.  "So they one who slayed our Mother
is not even born in our world.  They youngest of us all is our lord."

"He is as a toy to the Mother in her war against Caine, my lord.  Lilitu
is not gone."  
"Nor is she here, Son of Rachel.  The Gangrel clans have answered her
calling and she has given us a new Eldest.  We would see our new Prince."

Turnbull swallowed, afraid to refuse.  He gripped Diefenbaker by the
scruff of the neck and held him in place.  "He must return to his home,
my lord.   He is sick and weary." 
 
"Your words ring true, Son of Rachel," said the Elder, his eyes locked
on Turnbull's.  He knew of Seekers, though they had only existed since
the days  of Isaac and Abraham.  This one was pure, he could tell by
the light that shone in him.  "We shall abide by the Mother's law that
none but she may slay or drink of the humans in this valley.  You, Seeker,
and those of your  party may depart this place in safety from the Gangrel."

"We thank you, my lord," whispered Turnbull. 
 
"Know that one of our kind was declared outcast, autarkis by the Mother.
Beware of him, Seeker."  
"We shall." 
 
"We will meet again, Son of Rachel." 
 
"Yes, my lord," said Turnbull, bowing in respect.  "My lord?" 
 
The ancient one smiled slightly, knowing what was wanted.  "You may call
me Aja.  It was I who built the walls of Ur for Gilgamesh my king." 

Then he turned, and in moments they had vanished into the forest.  

And Renfield Turnbull stared in speechless awe. 

So awed, in fact, he barely noticed Frobisher ride up to him with the
Constable. "We have to get to the cabin," the Sergeant said, bluntly.

And they followed.

***

TBC