But this was not ancient Rome. This was modern-day Toronto and something could be done. Something must be done. This eruption must be contained; its ungodly ruin must be minimized; the havoc it is wreaking must not be allowed to continue.

"Nicholas," LaCroix growled. "Where is that Dr. Lambert of yours?" LaCroix was suddenly glad that he'd curbed his urge that Valentine's Day not so long ago and had deigned to spare the good doctor's life. Let his creation believe he had won the day, that LaCroix had spared the woman solely for Nicholas's benefit. But, today, Nicholas would learn the truth. On this day, Dr. Lambert would do LaCroix's bidding.

"She's on her way," Nick assured his master.

Their relationship had not been very good for a long time now, but recently they had become close again. Something about this life in Toronto had affected LaCroix. Maybe it was the climate, the longer winter evenings, or maybe there was something in the population itself — the boiled English-inspired foods, the greasy fast foods that had found there way here from America, the availability of a decent chili rellanos so far from Mexico.... They — the vampires — had known for many centuries that the food mortals ate affected the taste of their blood, whether that blood was consumed at the source or from a bottle.

"Nicholas, where is she?"

"I told you. She's on her way, LaCroix. Just be patient."

"Patient. Patient, he says," LaCroix fumed to himself as he paced the length of the room. "I know you have never experienced such a thing before, Nicholas, but can you not imagine the impact this will have?"

"I just don't think it's as big of a deal as you're making it out to be. I bet no one will even notice," Nick replied, checking his cell phone again to make sure the batteries hadn't died, in case Natalie was trying to call, or the Captain with some urgent case for him and his partner, something that would require his immediate attention. But the battery was fine and the phone remained silent.

"How can no one notice, Nicholas? An eruption of this size, of this magnitude? Are you insane that you cannot see the devastating ramification this will have? Life here will never be the same. Never."

"Oh, don't you think you're being just a bit—" But Nicholas was cut off before he could utter the word "melodramatic" — probably saving his undead life in the process — when Natalie knocked sharply on the door as she entered.

"Dr. Lambert. I require your immediate assistance."

"Yes, Nick told me." Natalie held up a plastic bag and shook it gently — it held the supplies she'd picked up on her way over. "Would you mind sitting down?" she asked as she hesitantly stepped up to the imposing vampire. She had never been comfortable in his presence and even him asking for her help did nothing for her nerves; she was too conscious of what he was, of what he was capable of doing to her, whether provoked or not.

LaCroix sat down on the couch, bringing himself just below eye-level with the coroner. Leave it to Nicholas, he thought, to befriend a doctor of the dead in his search for life. The irony did not escape him.

Nat dug through the plastic bag and finally pulled out a small vial.

"I thought you had come here to help me, Dr. Lambert, not to mock me in my time of need," LaCroix said as he stared at the vial in her hand.

"Mock you?"

"The cinders, doctor. You mock me by bringing me ashes?" No doubt a reminder of Mount Vesuvius, of the volcano that had buried his home, the woman he loved, and the army that he had lead to victory after victory in the name of Rome!

Nick swollowed hard as he looked on. He suddenly thought better of the gift he'd purchased — a lava lamp. He wondered if it was too late to exchange it.

"No. These aren't ashes," Natalie said with a shake of her head. "This is activated charcoal. Here." She handed LaCroix the vial for his inspection before pulling something else from the bag. "Just before you go to bed, mix a sprinkling of the charcoal with a small amount of this" — she held out a tube of ointment — "and then dab it on the affected area. Best thing in the world."

LaCroix took both items and let out a small breath. Maintaining his dignity through this ordeal was proving more difficult than he'd imagined.

"Now," Natalie said, pulling two last items from the bag. She crumpled up the plastic bag and handed it to Nick. "Um ... LaCroix, I'm just going to put some of this on you now...."

"What is ... that?" LaCroix asked, needing to know before he allowed her to proceed.

Natalie held up the small container for him to see. The words "Pasty White Make-Up" were printed on the label. "It's a good thing that the stores put out their holiday stuff so early. I had to go to the Halloween section to find this particular shade of ... pallor."

"Yes, very well. Do get on with it. I'm not getting any younger," LaCroix said irritably. The sooner this was over, the better, he'd decided.

Natalie took the make-up brush she'd bought and dabbed it in the cover-up, then spread the thin paste over the raised, red spot in the middle of LaCriox's cheek. There was only so much she could do, but she hoped the make-up in combination with the Raven's dim lighting would be enough. When she was finished blending away the edges, she leaned back for a quick inspection.

Hmm, she thought to herself, maybe now's the time to bring up the state of his eyebrows....

But before Natalie could act on her thought, LaCroix stood and moved toward the door. With his hand on the knob, he paused and turned to face Nick and Natalie.

"Nicholas, what do you think?"

"She did a good job. I'm sure no one will notice," Nick declared.

LaCroix's heart gave a single beat of relief.

"Dr. Lambert ... thank you," he said, and it pained him to do so. "If you would like, you may attend my party."

"Um, thanks, but ... your guests looked a bit too hungry for my liking. I think I'll just be heading home."

"Very well. Nicholas, I trust that you will see the doctor out?" LaCroix said before sweeping from the room.

Natalie let out the breath she'd been holding, and the tension in her limbs started to dissipate. When Nick took her arm and began to lead her from the room, she turned to him, staring into his eyes for a moment.

"You know," she said. "I really thought your master would have been too old and powerful to have acne."

"Yeah, well, I guess all the stress of his Conversion Day party is what triggered it. He really does need to learn to relax."

Natalie shook her head as they made their way out. "The pot calling the kettle black," she mused silently to herself.