Disclaimer and Notes: Nick Wolfe and all the other Highlander/Highlander: the Raven characters and concepts belong to Panzer/Davis, but the extended tour through Stonyland continues. No harm meant, no profit made. Now repeat after me: My muse leadeth me through dark places, but though I walk through a valley of angst, I shall not fear the end….

When the Lightning Fades

By Raine Wynd

when the lightning fades
and the storm winds no longer blow
who will save your heart
when there's no place left to go?

March

Nick Wolfe stared out at the night as he stood in Amanda's living room in her penthouse in Torago. She wasn't here, nor was her companion and sometime housekeeper, Lucy. The penthouse was shut up for extended leave, but as he hadn't expected (though he'd hoped for) company or comfort, he ignored the silence and the sheet-draped furniture.

Here, alone in a space he most associated with his first memories of the maddening woman he loved, he felt safe enough to let himself remember what had and what could have been. No one knew he was here; he'd taken the fire escape up to her patio, and let himself in with the security code he'd conned Lucy into giving him one afternoon. He preferred it that way. All he'd told Bert Myers, his sometime employer and friend, was that he was taking some time off and that he'd be in touch. That had been a year ago, and Nick had yet to contact Bert.

It hadn't been an easy year. He'd nearly lost his head half a dozen times, easily, but had managed to avoid all but two encounters. He'd been glad for his gun and for the knife he'd taken to carrying before Amanda had shot him, but it had been close. Too close. The last had only been a week ago, and only the intervention of another immortal had prevented his death. Even then, he'd thought he'd come to the end of the line. One immortal had almost been his death; two was certain, and yet... For now, he still lived.

Beyond the Game, he'd barely managed to survive on the money he'd had saved and the odd jobs he'd picked up along the way. He'd been grateful for his experience working on a freighter; it had allowed him to get across the Atlantic without much risk of someone tracing him. He knew it was only a matter of time now before he ran out of money, sanctuary, or space to run.

In his heart, Nick knew he wanted to live. That had come as a bit of a shock: that he was willing to accept all the conditions of immortality in order to have some kind of future, whatever that entailed. In the first minutes of his immortality, that had been an anathema too horrifying to accept, and he'd rejected the one person who'd been most willing to try and help him through his transition.

He closed his hazel eyes, hating himself, hating the dark depression he'd sunk into and not entirely convinced he didn't deserve it. Amanda had never meant to harm him, had asked for his forgiveness before she'd shot him, and tried to explain why she'd chosen to keep his pre-immortality secret. In her way, she believed she'd done him a favor, gave him a second chance. He'd been completely unwilling to accept that she'd acted altruistically and with good intentions for one reason, and one reason alone: because he wanted to love her.

"Now," he muttered, "this is my punishment." He opened his eyes, feeling the pieces of his heart shatter once again as the emptiness of the room, indeed his life, registered.

He'd come here, half-hoping either Amanda or Lucy would be home. From the looks of it, though, he'd come too late. For a moment, he wondered where Amanda could be, and if she was still alive. He'd tried to put her out of his soul, tried to forget her, but she'd imprinted herself on his memory in a way he knew he'd never be able to stop remembering just what she'd been to him. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd been planning to say to her had she been home, but he knew he wanted to say something, and a letter or a phone call wouldn't do. As it was now, he had no idea if she was still alive.

He wandered now through the stripped suite, hoping against hope that she might have left a blade or two behind, anything to give him some chance of surviving a moment longer. He didn't have enough money for ammunition anymore, and he was getting tired of running. The irony of an ex-cop stealing from a thief wasn't lost on him, but it didn't make him smile. Some part of him was relieved to find nothing of value.

Shivering, he zipped up the battered black leather jacket he wore. The pain within him had long since ceased to be something he could name: loneliness, betrayal, fear, desperation, hunger, and resignation all wrapped up into one huge ache that seeped through his soul the way the cold spring evening seeped through his bones. He had a choice to make tonight, and he'd hoped that maybe, just this once, he could talk it over with Amanda, and avoid losing the last shreds of his tattered and bruised pride.

She wasn't here, and he didn't know how to reach her. He'd already tried calling The Sanctuary, Amanda's bar in Paris, collect, but no one would accept the charges, and there had been no answer at Liam's church. His other contact, Joe Dawson, hadn't left a number where he could be reached, so that had left Nick without a means to reach Amanda and avoid the decision that he was already regretting. He glanced at the cheap watch he'd been given, and saw that he had twenty minutes left of his freedom.

With a deep sigh, he left the penthouse the way he came. He'd been living on borrowed time anyway, living past what should've been his natural death. He'd already fallen so far from his ideals of what was right and wrong, and at least he was walking into the deal with his eyes wide open. He would be safe, his well being would be seen to, and he wouldn't have to worry about anything except making sure that his client was satisfied. His heart was already gone.

He felt the warning of another Immortal two blocks from Amanda's penthouse. Instead of fleeing, he stood his ground and waited for the wine red Cadillac he'd been told to expect would pick him up. A few minutes later, it pulled up to the curb and the back passenger door was pushed open.

“Get in,” a Russian-accented woman's voice ordered.

He slid into the back seat and pulled the door closed. As the vehicle merged smoothly into traffic, he turned to the woman on the seat beside him. “Evening, Sophia.”

She smiled. “Evening, Nick. You'll enjoy this, I promise.” Her voice was gentle, but firm. She picked up a black strip of material from her lap and a pair of handcuffs. “I will protect you, but you must comply with my rules. Lean forward.”

For the briefest of moments, Nick hesitated, then he shoved the self-preservation instinct down. Sophia could have taken his head when she'd first run across him a week ago. Instead, she'd offered him a business proposition: become one of her high-priced escorts, and she'd ensure that he would stay alive. He closed his eyes and did as she requested, hearing his freedom slip away as the cuffs locked into place.

*****

July

Amanda surveyed the ballroom, packed full of the movers and shakers and the society bluebloods, and sighed at the predictability of it. There were even a few Immortals among the throng of people. The threat to her well being was fairly low, all things considered; unless someone was headhunting, no one wanted to make a scene, and those that did would soon seek her out to make the appropriate arrangements. She shrugged off the faint worry and moved further into the ballroom, her eyes automatically considering the security of the room and the valuables on display. She'd heard rumors that one of the minor European royalties would be making an appearance tonight, and while she wasn't hurting for funds thanks to the success of The Sanctuary, Amanda wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to survey future targets.

She'd just accepted a drink from a passing waiter when a male voice behind her spoke. “I wondered when you'd show up,” he muttered cynically.

She turned, recognizing who it was. “Nick!” she exclaimed delightedly, throwing her arms around his tuxedo-clad body. “I've been worried about you! Where have you been?”

He smiled, but didn't return the hug. “A lot of places,” he told her.

Amanda stepped back, chastened by the rejection she felt in his body language. She took a closer look at him and realized he looked different. He was still handsome, but the planes of his angular face were more sharply defined, and there was a distinct air of sadness about him. As if he realized what she was seeing, he smiled more warmly.

“It is good to see you, though,” he told her, as if it had only been a month or two since she'd last seen him. “Did you miss me?”

“Miss you?” she repeated incredulously. “Nick, you disappeared! I thought you were dead!”

“Only fair,” he replied. “You made me think that, once.”

She stared at him, then sighed exasperatedly. “All right, so I deserved that. When are you coming home?”

“Oh, I'd love to go with you,” he conceded. “But my services have been engaged for this evening. Shall we plan for tomorrow evening?”

It took her a moment to process what he'd implied. “You—you — you're the last person I expected to be a gigolo!” she hissed, furious. “You had a good job with Myers!”

“Getting shot at? Investigating people who invariably turned out to have long lives and poor choices in associates?” he questioned cynically. “Not much of a living, if you ask me.”

“And this is?”

“I don't understand what you're so upset about, Amanda. You were in a harem once.”

“That was a long time ago, and things were different!” She took a deep breath, realizing that the argument wasn't going to change anything. “Look, if it's money you need—”

“I don't need money,” he told her quietly. “I have what I need.” He paused and looked directly at her. “Frankly, if you're not interested in my time, I'll be going now. There are others who'd be willing to pay.”

“All right, all right,” she quickly conceded. “Who do I call?”

He withdrew a business card from a pocket and pressed it into her hand, then brushed a kiss across her cheek. The gesture made Amanda's heart ache even as she accepted the business card. She put on a smile, aware he expected it, and blinked past the tears that suddenly welled in her eyes.

“I'll see you, Amanda,” he bid her, then walked away.

Feeling betrayed, she stood there a long moment before taking a deep breath. A lot could change in a year, she reminded herself, and when it came right down to it, she hadn't really known Nick as well as she'd thought. He'd walked away from her when she'd thought he needed her most, and she'd been certain that he would eventually calm down and see her. Now, it appeared that if she wanted to spend any time with him, she'd have to pay for it.

Oh, Nick, why didn't you call me? The first year of being immortal isn't easy, by any means, and I wanted to teach you. Who are you with? Who taught you?

Then a thought struck her. Are you undercover for Bert?

Not giving herself a chance to think about it, she strode out of the ballroom to a more private spot and pulled out her cell phone. Dialing a number she'd memorized a while back, she got a hold of the ex-intelligence agent turned security consultant. Bert Myers was one of a kind Amanda recognized: someone who it was better to keep on your side than not, and even then, watched carefully. Though they were partners, Amanda preferred to keep her contact with him as brief as possible.

“Amanda! To what do I owe the pleasure of your voice?”

“Nick's in town. Is he on assignment for you?”

“Amanda, you're my business partner and I love you like a sister, but you're delusional," Bert told her, speaking in tone that implied he was completely convinced of her insanity. Amanda ignored it; it wasn't her fault he didn't believe her when she told him she was immortal. "As far as I'm concerned, Nick quit a year ago when he stopped returning my phone calls. I haven't seen him or talked to him since then. He's back in Paris? How is he?”

“He's –” She stopped, realizing she couldn't say anything without knowing all the facts. “Looking good,” she finished.

“That's good to hear. Hey, when you see him again, would you tell him to give me a call?”

Numbly, she agreed. “Bert, if you're lying to me—”

“Amanda, I wouldn't lie to you about Nick,” he admitted freely. “A year ago, I would have, and I did, but I know how you feel about him. I—”

“Bert,” she interrupted, “you're a lying, manipulative S.O.B., and if it suited your purposes, you'd lie to me about anything in a heartbeat. Don't pretend otherwise, darling, it doesn't suit you. Now, do you have Nick working undercover as a male escort?”

Bert laughed. “Oh, that's rich. I wish I'd thought of that. No, wait, I did, and he wouldn't touch that one with a ten-foot pole. Said he had his principles.” Amanda could almost see the shrug and the ironic smile Bert made as he added, "So I sent him undercover as a priest."

Amanda closed her eyes, sensing that Bert was being honest for once. “Thanks, Bert.”

“Don't mention it,” he told her. “Why do you ask?”

“It's nothing,” she lied. “Just something I must've misheard.”

“You'd better watch that,” Bert cautioned her, abruptly serious in a way she rarely heard him be. “People have gotten hurt over less.”

“Don't worry,” she retorted dryly. “I'm fairly indestructible.” She disconnected the call, not liking how the apparent confirmation of Nick's current profession made her feel.

Then she called the number on the business card. A pleasant female voice answered the phone.

“Innocence Entertainment Group, Michaela speaking, may I have your name please?”

“Amanda Montrose,” she replied, guessing that the call was being traced and logged. Her suspicion was confirmed when the operator came back on the line with a different tone in her voice.

“Thank you, and good evening, Miss Montrose. May I book one of our entertainers for you or otherwise assist you?”

“Yes,” Amanda answered. Getting the impression that it was a professional service wasn't helping matters any, but she wanted to talk to Nick. “I'd like Nick.”

“An excellent choice, Miss Montrose,” Michaela congratulated her. “He is a very talented, very handsome and articulate individual who will cater to your every need. Should you have any special requests, please be aware that an additional service charge will be billed to your account. May I have your credit card number please?”

Without hesitation, Amanda gave it. The bill would never get paid, but at the moment, she didn't care. It wouldn't be the first credit card she hadn't paid, or the first identity she'd burned with a single decision.

“How much to buy him outright?” Amanda asked bluntly.

Michaela chuckled. “Although I'll admit that he is quite the catch, he isn't a slave or an indentured servant.” There was a note of reprimand in her easygoing voice, and Amanda cursed her verbal slip. “As a first time customer, I'm aware that you may not be familiar with our policies. Our employees are independent agents, and are free to come and go as they please beyond the appointments we schedule on their behalf. We screen very carefully to protect both you and our employee so that we can guarantee the best entertainment value for your money. You are purchasing time with our employee, and we expect that our employee will be accorded the respect a performer deserves. Should you desire other means of entertainment, you are welcome to call our competition.”

In other words, if some cop is taping this conversation, he isn't going to get any proof that what I'm buying is anything but what it appears to be. Like we're fooling anyone? Disgusted, Amanda still managed to maintain a cool fa ade as she replied, “Of course. My apologies. Nick's just so…so…” She sighed deeply, and cooed, “I just want to monopolize all his time.” Not for the first time, Amanda was glad the person on the other end of the line couldn't see how she was rolling her eyes at herself.

Michaela giggled. “You aren't the only one, Miss Montrose. Now, I'm afraid that he's booked until four p.m. tomorrow, but I can schedule the entire evening for you.”

“That would be great.” After a few more details were ironed out, including where Nick was to meet Amanda, the call was disconnected.

For a moment, Amanda stood there, the dial tone buzzing in her ear. Then she took a deep breath, and pasted on a smile. She was thoroughly upset, and nothing cheered her up more than doing what she did best. Still, the cold sapphires of the necklace she'd lifted did nothing to settle the ache within her.

****

Nick arrived at The Sanctuary promptly at four o'clock the next afternoon. He was dressed casually, as Amanda had requested, but the clothes he wore clearly had been chosen to fit tightly and emphasize his lean, athletic body. The end result was that Amanda was left with the distinct impression that Nick had been packaged for her viewing pleasure. Some part of her not reacting instinctively to his charms was completely turned off by the wrapping.

It took fifteen minutes of conversation for one of Amanda's fears to be realized: Nick was using everything he'd ever learned about her to flirt shamelessly and ruthlessly with her. He was skillfully seducing her, and paying attention to her in a way he'd never done since they'd first met. It was unnerving, and heartbreaking, because she sensed he felt absolutely nothing in the process. There was a remoteness in his eyes that only someone who bothered to look, only someone who knew him well, could see. That gave her the strength to break away when he leaned in close to steal a kiss.

"Nick," she declared firmly, pushing him gently back. "We have to talk."

He smiled. "About what? Seems pretty clear to me what's going to happen tonight — something that should've happened a long time ago."

"Yes, but— "

He cut off her protest with a kiss. "You're the one who said it was fate. You and me, we deserve a night together after all that we've been through, don't we?" He kissed her again, drawing out the kiss until she almost forgot what she was protesting.

Somehow, she found the strength to remember. "Enough games, Nick. Stop trying to seduce me into thinking that this is better than it is. I'm not condemning you for what you're doing, but as a friend, I just want to know why."

He tilted his head inquiringly. "Why not, Amanda? Don't you enjoy being a thief? Maybe I just discovered what it is that I'm good at, and decided to enjoy it."

"Nick, you can dress this up six ways to Sunday, but you're a high-priced whore. That goes against everything I thought you believed in."

He shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "I was wrong about a lot of things, Amanda. Spent a lot of time on a high horse, thinking I deserved to judge the world." He shrugged. "I'm not perfect, and I learned my lesson. You told me once that people can change. Why is it so hard to believe that I might have?"

She leaned back against the couch, widening the distance between them. "Do you even carry a gun anymore?" she demanded. "I know you can't be carrying a sword."

His smile widened and he glanced downward.

Amanda narrowed her gaze. "I wasn't talking about that." She flushed.

He chuckled. "Sorry," he apologized unrepentantly. "I couldn't resist. But really, Amanda. There's no need to be so paranoid. The Gathering isn't happening yet, and there's no need to fight anyone. Why should I bother with weapons? I have all the tools I need."

She stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. In a too calm voice, she asked, "Who do you owe for saving your life, Nick?"

He broke her gaze, the seductive posture he'd been keeping abruptly broken. "It's none of your business, Amanda," he shot back with a hint of the Nick she'd known, the one who'd argue with her about right and wrong until she either listened or tried to escape.

"I'm making it my business. Tell me who broke you."

He swallowed painfully and refused to look into her eyes. "It's no big deal, Amanda. I don't have to worry about anything." He leaned closer and trailed a finger down her jawline. "Such a pretty jaw, Amanda, especially when you've made up your mind and you're not going to budge," he told her huskily. "I always wanted to kiss you when you got angry. I meant to tell you that so many times." He pressed a kiss just below her collarbone.

Though a part of her wanted to respond, Amanda held herself back. Gently, she pushed his head away from her body and grasped his shoulders. "Nick," she said softly. "Please. Tell me. I'm not judging you. I promise."

He held still in her arms and stared at her. The bleak, defeated expression in his eyes tore at her heart. Then he looked away. "You can't cross Sophia. You can't kill her."

"Nick, what you're doing isn't living."

"Maybe," he acknowledged quietly. "But I'm safe. Sophia protects me."

"And you hate her guts for it." Amanda sighed when Nick didn't respond to her comment. "Nick," she began gently, taking his hands, "she's killing you slowly. You used to be a cop, you remember all the signs of an abusive relationship, don't you?"

"It doesn't matter." He faced her now and smiled sadly. "I never wanted to be immortal, you know."

"Never wanted—" Amanda swallowed the rest of what she was going to say and tried for calm. "Nick, this isn't you. You never gave up on anything."

"It's okay, Amanda."

"No, it's not okay! She'll take your head when she's tired of you."

Nick smiled faintly. "What do you care, Amanda? It's not like you really looked for me when I left."

The flatly stated accusation stung. She had looked, but not too deeply, believing he'd come back when his temper had cooled off. "You could've called."

He laughed bitterly. "I was broke, and no one accepts collect calls. I thought maybe you'd gone back to live with Lucy, but when I got there, it was all packed up."

Her heart shattered at his words. Feeling the tears well in her eyes, she blinked past them and inhaled carefully. "I'm sorry I wasn't there." She reached for him in an unconscious gesture of comfort.

Nick shrugged, and pushed her hands away. "Sophia was waiting for me anyway. I couldn't have stayed long even if you were there. She's been very good to me. Did you ever meet Kristin? Sophia studied with her."

Amanda's jaw dropped. Oh yeah, she knew Kristin, and was glad the woman was dead. "Kristin was obsessive, insane, and while I'm grateful to her for certain favors, I'm not unhappy that she's no longer on this planet," Amanda stated carefully.

"No one appreciates what Kristin did for her men. She taught them how to be gentlemen, how to move within society, the same way Sophia is teaching me." Nick smiled and closed the distance between them. "Myself, I vote for a change of topic. Say, you and me?"

Amanda studied her friend for a long moment. Long experience told her there was nothing she could do to convince Nick to leave; he had been convinced that he had every reason to stay. For the moment at least, there was nothing she could do to keep him here with her beyond what she'd already agreed to pay.

In the end, she convinced Nick that all she wanted was to for him to hold her while they slept together. She didn't trust herself to do anything beyond that, not wanting the memory of their first time together tarred by the circumstance. He was gone by the time she woke up the next morning. Though she tried her contacts, Nick and Sophia had vanished.

Amanda was able to find out a few things, though. What she found out, however, bothered her the most. All the quickenings ever recorded by the Watchers and attributed to Sophia were men. All had been bait for another immortal who was "rescued" by Sophia and taken under her wing. Each of the "enemy" immortals had been studied with Sophia. Sophia's own teacher was Kristin, and Amanda knew enough about Kristin to recognize the pattern.

Once upon a time, Amanda had been content to let someone like Sophia live, but that had been before Sophia had taken in a friend of Amanda's. There was nothing Amanda wouldn't do for her friends, and for someone she loved — well, that just made it even more personal.

It took five years and more favors bartered than Amanda cared to count, but in the end, she found Sophia living in a mansion in Miami.

*****

“You were supposed to just walk away, Amanda.”

Amanda stopped at the end of the hallway and took up a loose fighting stance. “Oh, and what would you have me do, Sophia? Look the other way like I've been doing?”

“Why not?” the other immortal asked reasonably as she strolled down the hallway to halt just out of sword reach. “You're not known for having much of conscience.”

“When it comes to my friends,” Amanda replied, “I've always had one.” With those words, she struck.

Sophia's skill with a sword was no match for Amanda's tactics. The fight was brief, but the Quickening was one of the most powerful Amanda had ever absorbed. Sophia had cheated her way to many heads in a short period; it made the Quickening painful, bitter, and unforgiving, and left Amanda almost completely collapsed on the Oriental carpet of the hallway. Slowly, Amanda rose to her feet and surveyed the wreckage of what had been a hallway in Sophia's house. Then she took a deep breath, centering herself, as the last little spikes of the Quickening burned through her blood, demanding that she give in to Sophia's personality.

Amanda half-smiled as she forced her will over the Quickening; she was far too old and grounded in her own sense of self for Sophia's Quickening to be much of a threat. Reaching down, she casually looted the body of its jewelry, and walked out the door. As she reached the gates of the estate, her path was blocked by the one man she'd most wanted to see.

“You killed her.” Nick's voice was full of shock and disbelief, but he held no sword, no defense other than his body as he stood a sword's length away.

“Yes,” Amanda acknowledged, her eyes taking in the lean, sculpted body of the man she'd loved since they'd first met. “She was wrong. Keeping you on a leash isn't living.”

He stared at her wordlessly, and then swallowed. Haltingly, he admitted, “I don't know how to be anything else anymore.”

Her heart broke at those words, and she took a deep breath. Smiling as though she wasn't feeling any pain, she reached out a hand. “Come with me, and I'll show you.”

He stared her warily, hesitation in every muscle. Then he sighed and closed his eyes. Opening them, he stepped closer and took her hand.

*Finis*