Forever Knight Drabbles



Vices

Prompt: notebook, Zippo lighter, coffee cup. January 2005.


 

Don Schanke watched Nat examine the body of a girl, barely twenty. Poor kid, she couldn't even get her final words right, judging by the scratched-out messages in the notebook she'd left behind. All this over a boy, who probably didn't give a damn, anyway.

He sniffed above the Betty Boop coffee cup. Smelled like vodka. Pink lipstick dotted the rim.

His daughter, Jenny, liked to wear lipstick, though her mother wouldn't allow her to wear it to school yet. Jenny liked 'Passion Pink.'

He fingered the Zippo lighter he still carried in his pocket and wished he'd never quit.


At First Sight

Prompt: Sight
A fateful night in 1228, January 2006


 

The way Janette talked of Nicholas, how she wanted him, made LaCroix jealous, then amused him. She'd found a pet. Janette was denied even her freedom as a mortal, so LaCroix found he could deny her nothing she truly desired.

If she could entice this man of God into her bed, he would be a gift for his beautiful daughter

Then he saw Nicholas, such a look of want on his fair face. Nicholas seemed surprised, fearful, but still curious. He was so bright and warm…

LaCroix never told Janette that he had intended to let her bring him across.


Monday's Child, Tuesday's Child

Prompt: Children. January 2006.
Sometime during the Renaissance


 

LaCroix watched his children, such a pair they were. A dark seductress, once a whore used by men. And a shining knight, once a Crusader used by men. And God, LaCroix supposed. They were both of his blood now, and yet they were so different from each other. Different from him.

Janette felt the fabric of her gown and smiled at LaCroix like an overjoyed child.

Nicholas watched the tailor accidentally prick his finger, watched the crimson drop well at the tip. He stiffened and looked at LaCroix as if he'd just been struck.

LaCroix smiled, sighed, cherished them both.


Rules of Engagement

Prompt: Too Much, April 2006


 

The smack of flesh on flesh echoed too long, long after the sting on the back of his hand faded, and Nick suspected he'd hear that slap for the rest of his unnaturally long life. He cursed himself for letting LaCroix bait him into losing control.

LaCroix rose, hurtling himself into the air to land in front of Nick, where he'd been standing when one word too many had prompted Nick to lash out.

Nick, braced for a fight, didn't expect LaCroix to smile.

LaCroix only raised an eyebrow, breathed the words more than spoke them.

"Now we're getting somewhere."