He soon learns that he is dead.
He is apparently on the hook according to some judgmental grand-high-mucketymucks for a hell of a lot of murders (well, fair enough) and the sentence for this is twelve hours with someone called Jasmine torturing him (Bella would have a fit, why isn't one of her running this place). But he's a human again, this Jasmine character can't beat out turning with only a human body to work with and twelve hours to do it in. Even with "torching" as an option. Not that he's looking forward to it.
But he still has his timer, and his timer doesn't have to know what the hell's going on to guide him. He consults it constantly. He doesn't think as quick as he used to, and the timer can't narrow things down to fractional seconds as well as it could before, but even measurements down to the half-second are good. He gets it to tell him when to go looking for one of those "contractor" types. Good of them, very kind, he'd tip generously if he had any cash on him.
The best time is tomorrow, so he waits in his dwelling - it's a brightly-painted little shoebox of a place, barely big enough to hold the bed but cheery. Kinda reminds him of the Joker.
...Oh. That's the first time he's thought of the Joker in hours.
Yeah. He's human. Mate bond is toast. He still loves him, but it's not tattooed on his soul anymore.
He still misses him. And Kerron, poor kid. But they'll have each other; the Joker will take care of their son, who'll be all grown up soon enough anyway.
Nathan takes inventory of his apartment, and he sleeps - that's novel, he still can't remember anything substantial about the last time he was human through centuries of bright-sharp vampire memories and it takes him a while to recognize the sensation of needing it - and he goes to the Crescent.
"—because we all know how much he loves his upholstery," the woman is saying, barely holding back a laugh.
Now would be a good moment to interrupt.
("Boyfriend" sounds wrong, "girlfriend" wrong the same way, "mother of my child" not the right term in a sentence containing "kinky", "mate" - no longer accurate.)
He holds up sentence papers.
"Thank you! And, you know, I did spend several hundred years unaware that it was possible to survive without killing people, I do not claim sainthood but I do claim ordinary levels of decency. A grand total of two people of my erstwhile species made that particular discovery without being told."
"Ah yes. A grand tale, starring a saint and a succubus and many less creative individuals like myself. Until my recent and fairly inexplicable death I was a vampire. It turns out that said vampires can operate on an animal diet given a strong enough stomach, but I believe we can be forgiven for not all of us making the attempt. The Emperor's father figured it out without ever even trying the traditional fare - he's the saint. And a cousin to the imperial family - these are mostly adoptive relationships, by the by - figured it out due to sentiment for her previously doomed-from-the-first-kiss paramours. She's the succubus, as were the sisters she convinced to make the switch along with her. The rest of us had to wait for the news, languishing in ignorance, eating delicious humans. Of course, after Her Majesty took over, animal diets were no longer a quirky option for the ethically qualmed but the rule."
"Oh, we were always very secretive," says Nathan, waving a hand. "Her Majesty has been working on undoing that in the least disruptive way possible. She wishes to eventually turn every human who'll take the syringe - it's all very clean and clinical nowawdays - and thereby end death." He gestures at himself. "Or at least put it off. I really have no idea how someone managed to kill me. Probably magic was involved. Anyway. In 2000 she hadn't even taken over and the vampires were ruled by much nastier fellows; she didn't manage the trick until 2011. By and large you'd only know about vampires if one bit you, this way or that."