Subj: Post Mortem A Nicholas/Donamarie Story
Date: 5/25/00 4:17:17 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Daphne

Nicholas laid back against the pillows as the pleasant sound of Donamarie's shower-singing lulled him back to sleep; they had just made love, and while he was content to stay in bed a while longer, his wife was already beginning her day. He allowed himself to float between waking and unconscious bliss as she dressed and dried her hair, but he opened his eyes when he felt her warm lips brush against his.

"Where are you going at such an obscene time of morning, angel?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

She laughed at his disheveled appearance and ran her fingers teasingly through his hair. "Well as you have so eloquently told me before, there are certain constants in the universe, one being that lovemaking is the only thing that wakes me up this early in the morning. I'm going to take a walk on the beach and then when I get back I'll fix us some breakfast, ok? How does that sound?"

"Delicious," he grinned, "not as delicious as you, but I don't suppose I could persuade you to stay here in bed with me all day now could I?"

"Not a chance, love. I don't want to wear it off!" She wickedly laughed and was out the door before he could change her mind. Settling back against the pillows, Nicholas began to fall asleep again, allowing himself to fantasize about his wife. He'd almost drifted off when he heard the sound of glass breaking and a heavy thump, as if a piece of furniture had been knocked over. Rising quickly as the veil of sleep fell away from him, he stealthily searched for the intruder whose presence he sensed.

"Who is it? Who's there?"he called out, adopting his most fear-inducing voice as he tried to find the culprit. "You won't get away with this, whoever you are!" A quick search of the downstairs revealed a shattered vase and an open window in the study, and when he turned to close the window, he heard a voice in his mind, a very familiar voice.

"You don't think I'll let you get away with this do you?" A sudden puff of smoke filled the room and a figure cloaked in black stood before him.

"Master?" he gasped, "why have you come here?" Nicholas felt a slight tremor of fear run through him, but squared his shoulders, determined not to show what he was feeling.

"You have failed me for the last time, Nicholas Blair! It was your duty to see that Angelique didn't become obsessed with Barnabas again and you have not done so. Because of that, you must be punished."

"But Master, I didn't..."

"There will be no excuses! You will suffer the same fate as Angelique. You will become a vampire just as she is!"

Donamarie, help me, his mind screamed as Diabolos raised a clawed fist before him. For a brief second, the world flared orange and red flames around him, and then everything slowly faded to black....

**********

Nicholas' struggle to return to consciousness began as the sun slipped below the horizon, bathing the coastline in inky blackness. He was afraid to open his eyes, for it meant having to admit that Diabolos had bested him, but he was at the mercy of his hunger. It gnawed at him with an intense thirst that could not be denied, and although he'd had to drink animals' blood before in his rituals, the thought of drinking human blood appalled him. He was a warlock, a child of Diabolos, and to drink pathetically pure mortal blood would taint his supernatural superiority. This aching need was his master's idea of punishment, of lessening his power in the demonic realm. He would not give in to his need for blood, if only to spite his master!

As he moved toward awakening, he gradually became aware of strong arms wrapped around him, and he reached out to the presence that gave him such loving warmth. He opened his thoughts to the presence and felt his being touch Donamarie's soul. The beauty of her existence was overwhelming and he could see her through the darkness that separated them. She was seated on the floor where he had fallen, cradling his head in her lap. His beloved had been crying but was now staring vacantly at the fireplace, as if the flames could tell her why he had died. She wouldn't understand what had happened to him, and Nicholas feared that she would leave him when she learned what he had become. How could he face the dread of what was to come without her by his side? Before he had any more time to think about his situation, agonizing pain fully returned him to consciousness, and when he could breathe, he didn't know what to say to his wife.

"My angel...I have returned to you..." Nicholas whispered, his voice harsh with pain. At first, Donamarie didn't notice that he'd spoken, but then his words penetrated the grief-stricken fog that surrounded her. She suddenly looked down at him, and her blue eyes filled with tears when she realized that her husband was still with her.

"Nicholas?" she asked incredulously, not knowing if what she was experiencing was real. "What happened to you? I had only been on my walk a few minutes, when I heard your voice in my mind. You were in so much pain, but when I came back it was too late. Please tell me what happened."

He sat up, trying desperately to ignore the scent of her blood and the beating of her heart as it relentlessly pounded in his ears. "Diabolos has punished me because..."

"Because why, my darling? You can tell me anything."

"Because I lost control of Angelique. She became obsessed with Barnabas again and she made him into what he once was...I didn't stop her, and because it was my duty to control her, Diabolos decided to punish me." He had risen now and was pacing around the study like a feral animal on the prowl. He needed blood to slake the sickening thirst that was consuming him but he would not allow himself to take Donamarie's blood. She was too precious to him! He would not do it!

"How is he hurting you Nicholas" Donamarie's beautiful features had darkened at the mention of Angelique's name. She wasn't jealous of the witch, for Nicholas had proven his loyalty to her when he had given her immortality, but that didn't mean she had to approve of Angelique's tactics. Nicholas was older and far wiser than Angelique could ever hope to be, and Donamarie resented her lack of respect for Nicholas' power.

"He's not, not anymore," Nicholas lied. It had taken centuries for him to become an accomplished liar, and he had grown quite capable of convincing anyone of anything. Donamarie, however, was the only one who could see through his deception. She crossed the room and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to stop pacing and look her in the eyes. He was trembling and his body was ice cold. What could have possibly happened to him?

"Nicholas," she whispered in a voice serious enough to let him know that she wasn't playing games with him, "you are full of more bullshit than anyone I've ever known. Look at yourself- you're so ill you can barely stand, and yet you lie to me and tell me you're alright! I'm your wife and I love you! Don't you think that means I'll be able to tell when you're lying to me? Please tell me what's wrong! Why won't you let me help you?" Tears had begun to slip unheeded down her cheeks and Nicholas held her close, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her suffering. He had never understood how her tears could have such an effect on him, for he normally took pleasure in making people cry. Donamarie had been different though; from the moment they had met, she had awakened something in him that he thought died when he pledged his loyalty to Diabolos. She had touched what was left of his heart, and he knew that he couldn't get through this torture without her.

"My angel, he has made me into a vampire," he answered, feeling her body tense in fear as he held her. He was about to pull away when she relaxed against him, and she reached up to stroke his hair in a calming manner.

"Then the solution is simple. You'll take what you need from me. I can ease the pain for you." There was no denying that he could almost taste the blood as it coursed through her veins, but he didn't want to ruin her by subjecting her to the curse's pain.

"No! I won't do this to you," he protested. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever known and I won't allow my shortcomings to mar your goodness."

Donamarie pushed him away abruptly, her anger overiding any fear that she felt. "So I'm just supposed to let you walk out the door, knowing that you'll have to take someone's blood for relief? I'm not naive, Nicholas, I've read enough folklore to know that the vampire's kiss is a sensual bond. Do you honestly think I want you to share that with some prostitute at the docks? Nicholas, I love you! You are my husband and there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. If I could, I would confront Diabolos himself if it would solve anything. Please Nicholas- if you don't trust me enough to let me help you, what sort of marriage do we have?" Nicholas grew suddenly aroused by his wife's outburst. She was a spitfire, capable of extreme emotional passion and could be as devious as he was when the ideals and people she cared about were threatened. It was her most attractive quality and he found that he could not resist her, even as he saw his own aching desire reflected in her eyes. She completed him. She gave him a touch of humanity in his otherwise slavish devotion to an inhuman master, and he didn't want to lose her because of his own foolish pride.

"Please help me," he moaned as another wave of crushing pain made his knees buckle. He reached out and clung to her desperately, as if she was his only salvation. Donamarie smiled and caressed his cheek, hoping that her love was communicated to him through her touch.

"You must never again doubt how much I love you, Nicholas," she whispered. The seductive smile that crossed her lips made him lose control of his senses, and he ripped her blouse open to reveal the smooth, creamy skin at the base of her neck. He kissed her roughly, groaning as her tongue brushed against his fangs, before moving his lips to her throat; she sighed at his touch, and when he entered her, she sobbed his name, begging him not to stop. The pleasure was overwhelming, mingling with the pain of his possession until she was unaware of her reality, unaware of where the love stopped and the evil began. When the moon rose, she would be a vampire, and she would seek revenge against the witch who's betrayal had cost her husband his identity, but for now she gave herself to him willingly and happily. She gave herself to her "magic man" and was content in knowing that when she succumbed to the darkness, he would be there waiting for her....