AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had to make a few changes to Chapter 10 in order for 11 to make sense. They are minor, but if you notice inconsistencies here, please reread Chapter 10. Thanks!

Diana received a page from one of the detectives who had caught the Moreno case. She had called him when she heard about it. Since Moreno had been Catherine's boss, it may have something to do with her disappearance. She stopped at a payphone outside Elliot Burch's building to call him.

"Bob, this is Bennett." she said when he picked up the phone. "You got anything for me?"

"Well, yeah. Nothing to connect to Chandler per se, but it connects to one of her connections."

"What?"

"I got a witness who puts Elliot Burch at the scene. He had blood on his clothes."

"Yeah, but the MO? Burch couldn't have done that."

"But we have motive and a witness has him at the scene. I'm getting a search warrant."

"Okay, thanks Bob."

Diana hung up the phone and looked up at the building. "Okay, Mr. Burch. Let's see what you've got."

Diana exited the elevator and marched across the reception area outside of Elliot's private office. "Ma'am, you don't have an appointment." His secretary tried to stop Diana from entering her boss's office.

"I know."

"You'll have to wait," the secretary said, but stopped abruptly as Diana pushed the door open, revealing Elliot standing at the window, staring out blankly and stroking his beard.

"Mr. Burch," Diana said firmly.

Elliot startled and looked up. "It's fine, Amy. Close the door please and hold my calls." Amy shut the door in a huff. Elliot turned to Diana. "How may I help you today, Detective?"

"Tell me what you know about the building Catherine Chandler was held in."

"What makes you think I know anything?"

"Because you're protecting Vincent."

"Who?"

"Come on! Word on my street is you killed Moreno. A search warrant will be issued by this time tomorrow. But you and I know better. The MO matches up with all those mysterious deaths involving Cathy Chandler's cases. My bet is her mysterious protector was Vincent. You're helping him and I need to know what you've got."

"Why should I help you?"

Diana handed him a copy of the note Catherine had sent Joe. He took it and read it silently. "What?" he whispered. He sat down weakly and read it again. "Why did he?" he said softly. When he finally raised his head and looked at her, there were tears in his eyes. "Cathy is alive?"

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"She had a baby?"

"Yes."

"Where is the baby?"

"I don't know, but you're gonna help me find him." Diana sat down opposite him and shrugged off her coat. She pulled a notebook out of her bag and searched for a pen. "You looked into the owner of that building, right? For Vincent?"

"How do you know all of this?"

"Did you get past the first lines?"

Elliot snorted.

"She sent that note to Joe in a very round about way. She will not be found, not by us. But, we can find her son and if we find him, we can find the guy that did this, the guy that is controlling half of New York City and God knows what else. We can find Gabriel."

"Gabriel?"

"Yeah." Elliot got up and went to his desk. He pulled a key from his pocket and opened a drawer. He pulled some papers from it and began to rifle through them.

"What is it?" she asked warily.

"Before Cathy disappeared, she asked me to look at something. Her boss, Joe Maxwell, was given a ledger about some sort of illegal conspiracy taking over the whole damn town. She wanted my help decoding it. I put some people on it, but we only got part way through. I think the name, 'Gabriel' is the key to the rest of it."

"Give me a copy."

"What?"

"Mr. Burch, this is what I do. Let me look at it. Cathy said to pool our resources."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Okay." Elliot picked up the phone and called his secretary. "Amy?"

After a moment, a quiet knock sounded and one of Elliot's bodyguards opened the door. At his boss's questioning look he said, "Amy is pretty ticked off. I told her to take a break. You're buying her a coffee. Can I help?"

"Yeah. Can you run off a copy of this for Ms. Bennett?"

"Sure." The man took the file and left the room.

"You know," Elliot said. "If this guy doesn't want to be found, he isn't gonna be found."

"That's what they all think, but sooner or later, I find them. I find 'em all."

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Vincent was lying quietly on his bed, half-asleep. It was killing him, lying there helpless, while his child was out there, somewhere, with him. He had thought he would feel the baby as he grew and as he became stronger, so would his sense of him. But, it was not. It came in waves that were getting smaller and smaller. Vincent hadn't said anything to Catherine, but he was getting worried. Despite Father's reassurances that the baby was wanted by his kidnapper and would be well-cared for, Vincent worried.

A sudden movement from Catherine startled him out of his dreamlike state. "No!" she shouted and rose up out of the bed. She pushed off the covers and struggled to her feet.

"Catherine?"

"It is here, Vincent! It is here! We must do something. Call the council. Warn the sentries."

"What is it?"

"The storm. It is here! There is a blizzard waging through the tunnels. We must do something." She snatched up her robe quite nimbly for someone still so weak and threw it over her shoulders. "And the baby! Vincent, he is crying."

He struggled up out of bed himself and winced slightly as he felt his stitches pull. He drew her close to him with his good arm. "Catherine, we are safe. No storm can reach us down here."

"No, Vincent! It can! It is coming. I saw it. I saw your death." She began to cry into his chest.

"Shhh, my love," he tried to soothe her. "Let me speak to Father."

"All right."

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Snow had done his research; he was nothing if not thorough. He had returned to the carousel and examined it closely. There were several heavy bloodstains in the center. But there a few drops near the door and then a few drops hidden in the grass several feet away. He followed the trail closely and had come to the drainage pipe. There was some blood on the gate and one drop on the floor beside it. There was no more blood.

Snow had looked at that tape – a creature like that needed somewhere to hide, a lair. When he saw the blood in the drainage tunnel, he knew he had found it. He had outfitted himself well. He had night-vision goggles and sound-magnifying earphones. He dressed completely in black. He had several guns, but also a dart gun, filled with enough tranquilizers to bring down an elephant. Snow would have preferred to just hunt and kill the creature, but Gabriel wanted him alive. Snow thought it was crazy, but bringing in the creature alive was much more of a challenge and really the only reason he had taken on the assignment. And now, he was laying the charges to break down that seemingly solid concrete wall just beyond the gate that he knew was the entrance to finding this creature.

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"Father?"

"Vincent! What are you doing out of bed? Are you trying to give me a heart seizure?" Father struggled out of his chair and went to his son, who was leaning heavily on the wall near the entrance to Father's chamber. Vincent held out his hand, stopping him.

"It is Catherine."

"What?" Father looked concerned.

"She's had that dream again. She says it is beginning."

"What is?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to sense it too."

"Sense what?"

"Unease, instability. Something is wrong."

"Are you sure you aren't just sensing her unease?"

"Yes. Our Bond is still...gone."

"All right. Let me send a message to Pascal. I'll have him put out an all quiet and double-check with the sentries."

"Thank-you, Father. I'm going to check as well."

"Vincent! You are in no condition - "

"Father, I must!"

"Why?"

"Because, Father, I believe that whatever this new danger is, it concerns me and it concerns my child."

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Snow blew open the door and then entered the Tunnels. He was fascinated. They seemed to be man-made in places and well-maintained. Perhaps there were more of this creature. He smiled.

He continued to make his silent way deeper into the earth. Then, he paused, holding a hand to his ear. There was a tapping sound, not water, rhythmic and repeating. He turned towards the sound and walked several more meters down the tunnel. He heard the sound again, louder, and he stopped, examining the wall in front of him. A vent near the floor flipped open and he fired at it, spraying dust and gravel all over. When the gunshot's echos stopped, he heard a young woman screaming. "Well, now they know I'm here," he thought and continued on his way.

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Vincent had heard the explosion. He hurried back to Catherine and guided her to Father's chamber. "Stay here, Catherine, no matter what happens."

"Vincent," she began.

"Stay with Father. Promise me." He held her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. She returned his gaze and then slumped a little, understanding and accepting.

"Yes, I promise."

Vincent shrugged off his sling and gave it to Father. "Gather everyone together. I do not know what this is, but I will stop it."

He turned back to his father and caught his gaze. Father sighed. "I'll re-sew your wounds when you return."

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Snow continued down the corridor. He could hear the girl's sobs and panting as she ran. Following and catching her was almost too easy. When she stopped to catch her breath, he was just around the corner from her. He stood silent and waited. She burst off the wall and ran right into him, falling to the ground. He put the barrel of his gun on her back.

"What was his name? The boy? What was his name!"

She sobbed on the ground. "St- St- Stephen."

"Thank-you. I always learn their names." He paused as if truly committing the name to memory. "And your name?"

"B-Brooke. Brooke."

When Stephen had not responded to Pascal's message twice, he had sent Old Sam to check on him. Sam came around the corner just as Brooke had said her name, Snow twirled and fired at the old man, only armed with a staff. Brooke sprang up and ran off in the other direction. Vincent heard the shots from where he was and roared in protest.

Snow's goggles glowed eerily red in the darkness of the tunnel as he chuckled. "I'm coming."

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Catherine paced Father's library chamber, much like Vincent did when he was agitated or worried. Every now and then, she would stop and lean on a chair to rest. After a moment or two, she would resume her pacing. This is how Father found her when he returned from tending to Brooke.

"Tell me, Catherine," he said quietly from the doorway of the chamber.

"I need to go to him."

"You know that you cannot."

"Father, this is killing me!"

"I know." He entered the chamber and embraced her with his left arm. "But you must stay here it is safe."

"He isn't completely well."

"I know."

"He'll tear his stitches."

"I know."

"My dreams, Father."

"I know, child."

She stood still in his arm, breathing into his shoulder, smelling the smokey disinfectant odor that was unique to Father. He stroked the back of her hair softly. "You must be patient."

"I'll try."

He pulled her back and looked at her face. "You're much better."

"Yes."

"He'll be fine."

"But-" Catherine started.

"He always is."

"I know."

"You're just worried because you love him." She nodded sadly. Father's eyes looked far away as he remembered all the times he had sat in this chamber worrying after his son. "I know."

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It was so ironic it was nearly comical. Vincent silently waited for the hunter to follow him and drew him down, deeper, deeper, through the serpentine, below the wells, into a secret place that only he knew – a place of mists and caverns and cold, thick air. He had taken away the hunter's benefits; first his night-vision goggles, then the sound-magnifying earphones. Now, Vincent had the favor of both sight and sound as well as scent. And he had the home-team advantage. Now he was the hunter, leading his prey into a trap. It didn't take long to fool the hunter into firing at a rock draped with his cloak. And then the walls tumbled down upon him.

He picked up the ring the hunter had taunted him with and realized he had another clue. He carried the hunter's corpse back to the building where he had found Catherine and dumped it on the roof. His shoulder ached and the wound had opened, bleeding into his tunic. He drew a great lungful of air into his chest, raised his arms and cried, "Gabriel! Try again, coward!"