DISCLAIMER: This is an alternate universe story based on Beauty and the Beast. The characters have all graciously agreed to let me use their names in my work of fan-fiction, with the understanding that I return them to the CW network after my story is completed. This is completely for entertainment purposes, so no funds were transferred physically or by wire.
Catherine stood at one of the windows in the dilapidated warehouse, as morning dawned. A train meandered down the nearby tracks, shaking the old building as it passed. Smoke billowed up into the air as the machines in the factories came to life. But even the hustle and bustle of the city, couldn't distract Catherine from the harsh reality at the forefront of her mind. As much as she would have liked to believe she had been dreaming, or the issue would disappear, she knew neither the former, or the latter would happen. She chuckled at the irony of her situation. How did an Ivy League graduate go from being an FBI agent to having a target on her back? And then the thought occurred to her. What if the agency had handpicked her for the assignment at the prison? What if it had been part of the plan from the beginning? She let out a sigh. The intricate details of the setup grew more complex by the day. Then she remembered a statement Vincent had made, about someone wanting him at that particular facility. It seemed ludicrous, but she couldn't dismiss her suspicions that maybe the judge presiding over Vincent's case had been involved, or at the least paid to sentence him to death row at Muirfield State Prison. But before she could move forward, she needed to speak with the other agent assigned to work at the prison.
"I see you're already up."
She turned around at the sound of Vincent's voice. A voice she had become accustomed to over the past week.
She smiled. "Yes, I am. I had a lot on my mind and I couldn't sleep. I've been watching the city come alive as I sort through the thoughts in my head."
"Any new ideas?" He asked, leaning against a nearby wall.
"No, but I do believe I know the identity of the other agent assigned to the prison," she said, unable to tear her gaze away from the sexy body on display in front of her.
"Who?"
"Officer Vargas. She worked on another floor until I began working at the prison. When Bob slipped up and said she, I knew it was her. I'm going to go talk to her, and see if we can be allies. If I'm right, her life could be in danger as well."
"How are you going to find her?"
"She's off today. And from our few conversations, she visits her mother on her off days. It's close to my old neighborhood. With a little investigating, I can get the address. I can't call her phone, since I'm sure it's being monitored."
"You're taking a big risk going there. What if she is part of the plan to kill you?"
"I don't think she is, but it's a risk I'm willing to take," Catherine said.
He pushed off the wall and walked up to her. "Do you want me to go with you? I could remain at a safe distance in case you need me."
"No. I can't risk you being seen. It's one thing for me to be seen, but we don't need anyone to start questioning your death. Right now, we have the upper hand, but if they suspect we're on to them, we could lose our only opportunity at acquiring the evidence we need. And I have a feeling, there are more players involved in the plan," she said, finding it hard to concentrate with his handsome face in close proximity.
Vincent touched her face. "Please be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. You have my number in your burner phone. Don't hesitate to use it if you need me. I don't care about being seen if you're in trouble." He ran his thumb across her cheek. "Promise me that you'll call me if you need help."
Yes was the only word she could utter, while looking up at his handsome face and those mesmerizing hazel eyes.
"Yes. I promise."
He smiled, and Catherine knew right then, she had lost her heart. With a dimple on each cheek, he was the epitome of gorgeous.
"I'll hold you to that," he said, dipping his head and claiming her lips.
...
Evan Marks sat behind his massive mahogany desk, nursing a glass of scotch. For two days, he had been waiting on results. He had given simple orders and crafted an even simpler plan. And not one person had achieved the results he sought. How hard could it be to find the body of Vincent Keller? And furthermore, why was Catherine Chandler still breathing? His hands hadn't drawn blood in years. But now his thirst had resurfaced. It appeared the time had come to eliminate his own loose ends. After shelling out large sums of money, it would seem he still had to do his own dirty work. A sinister smile spread across his face, when he thought of wrapping his bare hands around Catherine Chandler's neck, and choking her until he saw death in her eyes, only to revive her, and do it again. Excitement coursed throughout his body. The all too familiar high washed over him, and he licked his lips. Yes, it was time to resume his favorite sport.
"Mr. Marks, your one o'clock appointment is here," his secretary said over the intercom.
"Send him in."
The click of the door alerted him to his visitors' presence in the room. He raised his head to face the man he had put his faith and trust in to do his dirty work.
"Lowan, you want to explain to me why everything seems to be falling apart?" He asked, without preamble.
Lowan took a seat and scrubbed his hand down his face. "I have everything under control. It would be best if you remained calm and let us do our job.
"I don't need any unsolicited advice, suggestions, or opinions. I need action." He slammed his fist down on the desk. "Do I have to do the job myself?
Lowan averted his eyes and wiped his hands on his pants. "We are scouring the city in search of the body. Whoever stole it, went to great lengths to keep it hidden."
Evan gave him a killer look. "That is obvious! I have paid you a great deal of money, but I haven't received the promised result in return for my monetary contribution."
"I have my best people on the job. And must I remind you, Vincent Keller is dead. Is that not the end you required?"
Evan grabbed his unfinished glass of scotch. In one smooth motion, he threw the contents of the glass in his mouth, welcoming the burn in the back of his throat. He leaned over his desk with both elbows. "I don't care what you saw or what you know. Until I see his dead body, I will continue to search. A body isn't a coveted commodity, and yet, someone went to great lengths to confiscate Kellers'. Perhaps, we should examine the reasons why a body would need to disappear, and then we will be able to ascertain if the execution was a perfect ploy to gain freedom."
Lowan stood up and walked over to window. "There isn't any benefit in a dead body, other than using it for science." He turned and looked at Evan with a frown. "Are you insinuating Keller could have faked his own death?"
Evan smiled. "I see your fancy education wasn't in vain, after all."
Lowan walked over and reclaimed his seat and furrowed his brow. "I was there. I watched Keller take his last breath and the machine flatlined. If he faked his death, then that would mean he had help. And that help, would mean someone on my staff assisted him, because he hasn't had any visitors in years."
"You're late to the party, but I must commend you on your astute deductions. I don't need to to remind you that he can identify me, if he regains his memory. And if my suspicions are correct, I believe he already has." He stood up and slid his bespoke suit jacket on. "I have another meeting to attend, but I suggest you clean your mess up or I will. And if I do, there won't be anyone left standing, but me," he said, before exiting through a side door.
...
Catherine sat in her car in black attire and a cap on her head. She had been sitting for almost an hour when she spotted a dark sedan pull into the driveway. Minutes later, Tess emerged from the vehicle. Catherine jumped out of the car and sprinted across the street.
"Tess," she called out.
Tess turned around, a frown marring her face. "Catherine? What are you doing here?"
Catherine paused to catch her breath. "I'm sorry for intruding on your personal time, but it's imperative I speak with you. I don't know what you've heard already about my sudden departure from the prison, but it could affect you as well."
"Tess' face softened just a little. "Follow me," she said, looking around.
She followed Tess to a small detached building at the back of the house. Tess opened the door and they stepped inside. Catherine deduced it was a game room, by the pool table and the small bar in the corner of the room.
"Have a seat," Tess said, gesturing to a chair in front of a card table.
Catherine waited until Tess took a seat, before she began to speak. "I have reason to believe you're with the agency," she said, deciding it was best way to start the conversation.
Tess smiled. "I'm assuming you are as well, if you're asking me such a question."
"I am. That's why I here. I don't know the extent of your relationship with Bob, but I met with him yesterday and a sniper took a shot at me, after Bob gave him a signal. I happen to see him nod just in time and ducked. If I'm considered a loose end, so are you."
Tess didn't say anything for a few minutes and Catherine began to second-guess her decision to meet her.
"Why would he want either of us dead?" she asked, with a stoic expression.
"I've seen the files on the warden, so I'm thinking I may know too much about the investigation. I don't know how much you know, but Bob's slip of the tongue led me to you. I believe he is playing both sides, and anyone soon bodies are going to start dropping. If I hadn't glanced at him, I would be one of those dead bodies."
"Okay. Let's say I believe you. Do you have a plan?"
Catherine studied Tess as she spoke. She would have to see if Tess was trustworthy, before she told her about Vincent.
"I have some friends working with me, and I'm staying with them. I'll be honest with you. A lot is at stake here, and I've risked a lot just coming here-"
"And you want to know if you can trust me. I won't lie and say I'm not a little wary, but if you're being upfront and honest with me, then I can assure you, my loyalty won't be a problem. Plus, I've been reassigned to a desk job without any legitimate explanations to why, which adds more credibility to your story," Tess interjected.
"I'll discuss it with my friends, and we can meet here tomorrow at the same time. Are you okay with disappearing for awhile, until we uncover the conspiracy?"
"Looks like I don't have a choice."
"Then I will see you tomorrow," Catherine said, pulling the hood over her head and exiting the building.
...
JT took a swig of his beer and looked at Vincent. "Are you sure about involving Catherine in this? I know a target is on her back, but with her knowing you are alive, makes her situation even more dire."
Vincent perched on the edge of the old couch in the warehouse. "I don't know JT. I tried to convince her to stay away, and I had succeeded until someone took a shot at her. I have to help her. And right now, I think it's best if we remain together. Besides, she can help us with her extensive knowledge of the criminal justice system."
JT chuckled. "By now, both of us should be experts on the system. All jokes aside, though, I have a plan to get Evan to confess."
Vincent raised his brow. "I am quite familiar with your plans." He stood up and walked over to the mini-fridge. "How dangerous is your clandestine scheme this time?" He asked, grabbing a beer.
"Let's not forget, I am the mastermind behind springing you from the Big House," he said, using air quotes.
Vincent sat down on the couch and popped the top on his beer. "And I appreciate every sacrifice you've made for me, but I don't want you endangering your life any further, because of me. It was one thing to work under an alias at the prison, when I had no clue of your identity, but now the risks are greater." He looked at JT and continued. "I know your heart is in the right place, but let me do something for a change."
"How do you plan on doing anything if you're supposed to be dead?" JT countered.
"I don't know. Maybe I can wear a disguise or try to investigate during the night."
JT shook his head. "My plan is much better. The governor is having his annual charity ball tomorrow. I have secured three invitations and costumes are mandatory. We couldn't have planned it better ourselves. I will pull Evan aside, and pretend I know all the details of the murder, with the implied threat of blackmail. If he is as arrogant as I believe he is, he won't miss an opportunity to brag about the murder. And, I'll have a recorder on me to record the confession. I will need you to hang nearby, in case he decides he wants to take a more permanent route. You know... like ending me."
"It's a good plan, but as we both know, even the best of plans can go awry. And what about Warden Lowan?"
"If we can coerce a confession out of Evan, I'm sure he'll be more than willing to name the rest of the players. He's arrogant and rich, not to mention, the son of the governor. Even if he refuses, the fixer for the governor will want to do damage control."
Vincent weighed the options available to them, and he knew this might be their only opportunity to corner Evan.
He took a drink of his beer and set the bottle on the floor. "Okay. I'm in."
JT smiled. "I knew you would see it my way."
...
Vincent walked in the room and sat on the bed by Catherine. "Did you get to a chance to speak with Tess?" He asked, noting how weird it sounded after calling her Officer Vargas for so long.
"I did. And I was right, she is the other agent who was assigned to the prison."
"Was?"
"She has been reassigned to a desk job at the local office. I believe it's to keep an eye on her. They are closing ranks in an attempt to cover their tracks."
"You think we can trust her?"
"I would like to believe we can, but I haven't known her long enough to say yes, without any lingering doubts," she said
"She has a better chance of surviving, if she decides to help us. If she knows anything, they will kill her without thinking twice," he said
"I know. Do you think I should take a chance and bring her here?"
Vincent chuckled. "JT is going to need some Tums if you do, but go ahead. I won't sit by and let another innocent person be hurt by these people. I'll deal with JT."
Catherine frowned. "Tums?"
"When we were younger, JT stressed a lot, which resulted in him developing ulcers. He keeps a bottle of Tums on hand for emergency situations." Vincent chuckled and continued. "I can only imagine the amount he must have consumed, while working at the prison."
Catherine punched him on the arm. "Don't ridicule him. It's dangerous being your friend."
Vincent's expression turned serious. "You know my life wasn't always so complicated."
"What did you do before..." she trailed off.
"It's okay. I've made my peace with the situation. I just want to clear my name and move forward. But to answer your question, I was a doctor in the civilian world as well as in the military. Before that, I was a firefighter."
Vincent smiled at Catherine's reaction.
"Wow. Aren't you ambitious?" She asked, a look of surprise on her face.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I come from a long line of firefighters, and I thought that was my calling as well. My brother, William, knew if anything happened to me, it would devastate our mother, since I'm the baby of the family, so he convinced me to go to medical school. Although, I didn't need a lot of cajoling, since it had been my wish all along. But then 9/11 happened, and my brothers perished in the towers, prompting me to join the Army," his said, with a hint of sadness in his voice.
Catherine reached over and grasped his hand. "I didn't mean to pry or open old wounds."
He kept his eyes downcast. For some reason, he felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. Maybe because he had never discussed his brothers' demise with anyone. After the senseless tragedy, he had joined the Army, and never looked back. He had compartmentalized his emotions, and stored them in the back recesses of his mind, hoping to never see them again.
After doing one tour of duty, he realized military life wasn't for him. After being honorably discharged, he'd reconnected with JT, and met Alex soon after. For a while, everything had been good. He would even venture to say great, but then the murder happened, and everything went downhill from there. He had lost his parents, while wasting away in prison for a crime he didn't commit. And the part that bothered him the most, was how he had pushed his parents away, because he didn't remember them. Tears blurred his vision, when he thought about the pain he had inflicted on them. And since they had died while he was locked up, there would be no absolution.
Catherine's thumb rubbed circles atop his hand. He knew she was attempting to calm the storm brewing within his body, but he had held it in too long. Surrendering to the pain haunting his soul, tears from a decade ago, streamed down his face. He gripped Catherine's hand tighter. He needed her comfort. As if she could read his mind, she scooted closer and placed a hand around his back. He leaned in and rested his head on her shoulder. Her unique smell wafted up to his nose, calming his wayward emotions. He raised his head and she turned around, causing their lips to collide. Unable to control himself, he reached over and pull her onto his lap. With her straddling him, he nipped at her lips and soon his tongue sought the sweet haven of her mouth. Granting him access, their tongues touched and began to mate. Her taste permeated his taste buds, throwing his mind in a fog, and his body into a frenzy. The feral beast within him awoke with aggressive orders. Claim their mate! He stopped kissing her, and placed his forehead against hers.
"What's wrong?" Her sweet melodic voice questioned.
He raised his head, and presented eyes he knew were amber and glowing. Her own eyes widened, and her body tensed. But then she rubbed a soft hand down his cheek, and leaned forward, placing a kiss on his lips. His heart had never known such happiness, and his eyes had never seen anyone as beautiful. Hope flooded his body, and his long forgotten dreams awoke from their beds of desertion. His future sat on his lap. She knew what he was, who he was, and she hadn't run away. This was his second chance, but it was only tangible if their plan succeeded tomorrow night. And they would succeed.
Author's Note: Thanks as always for your wonderful feedback. Thanks for motivating and inspiring me. I hope this chapter was just as enjoyable or more. I look forward to reading your thoughts. Enjoy your day.