Chapter 25:

Katrina lay back in her bed, relaxing after her shower. It had taken quite a while to get all of Meredith's blood off of her body and now she was exhausted. She rolled over to stare out the window, still feeling guilty over what she had done with Bo. Part of her feelings were about what Vincent's reaction would be if he knew the sexual undertones of what they did, but the other was obsessed with wondering . . . was she truly a natural born killer? She reached out and pulled a joint and a lighter out of her nightstand drawer, leaning back on the wall so she could smoke the marijuana.

When she was through, Katrina's guilt was still too much for her. She realized she didn't care so much about the fact that she had just tortured someone she didn't know, who probably didn't deserve it . . . her real worry was about Vincent. Katrina sighed and slipped some jeans on over her sleeping boxers. "I'll apologize about the mother thing . . ." she thought, ". . . then I won't feel so bad over the other." She headed downstairs and glanced into the living room, where Bo was asleep on the couch. Tiptoeing over as quietly as she could, Katrina pulled an afghan over him and grabbed a second one for herself. Bo mumbled incoherently as she hurried away.

Down in the tunnel, Katrina made a face as she walked, not liking walking down there by herself at night. She could hear Vincent snoring quietly. He was lying sprawled on his back in the bed, wearing no shirt. Katrina grinned and walked quietly up to him, eyeing his muscular chest appreciatively. Slowly, she slid into the bed, straddling Vincent's groin.

"Vincent?" Katrina whispered.

He didn't move.

"Viiiincent."

He wriggled a little. She smirked as she felt him getting aroused beneath her. Leaning close to his ear, she whispered his name again. He shifted his position and mumbled something she couldn't hear. Katrina reached down and took the sides of his wax mask in her fingertips. In a flash, Vincent's eye opened and he flipped her over onto her back on the mattress, holding her arms painfully above her head. She laughed at him, his gaze raging at her from beneath the mask, and lifted her head. As quickly as he had flipped her, Katrina bit the wax and pulled, ripping it off his face.

Vincent gasped as she flicked her head to one side, sending the mask flying. The next second, her lips were on his and her tongue was in his mouth. His hands ran down her arms to her torso, stopping at her waist. She cupped his face in her hands and smiled at him.

"I wanted to say sorry," Katrina whispered, kissing his nose. "And I miss you."

He let out a little breathy sigh of relief. "I missed you . . ." Vincent whispered in her ear, his voice hoarse again from not using it.

She pulled him back down into the bed and folded his arms around her. "What have you been doing all this time?" Katrina asked.

"Painting. Sketching. Putting the last touches on those men."

"I want to see them, and Vera," she said.

"I didn't make her Miss Ambrose," Vincent said, a little defensively.

"That's all right. Remember, I'm sorry about that too," Katrina told him, snuggling closer to his warm body.

"That was my fault."

Katrina didn't answer and ran her fingers along the top of his hand. They lay in companionable silence until Vincent asked a question, the one she had been dreading.

"What did you do this week?"

She hesitated for a moment before answering. "Nothing really. I just hung out with Bo and Lester." Katrina paused as his body stiffened. Guilt racked her conscience and she bit her lip. "Bo showed me how to do stuff around here," Katrina said quickly before Vincent could get too jealous. "I know how to change the oil in a car now. And I know which part is the engine and which is a fan belt."

To her surprise, Vincent chuckled.

"You didn't know this before?"

She shook her head. "No. I had no reason to."

"Is that all you did?"

"We went to Lester's house. I went with him to pick up dead shit once. It wasn't fun. But he enjoyed the company." She laughed at the recollection. "He wouldn't stop talking about knives. Oh, and Bo and I finished hiding that one road out of Ambrose, you know, the one that goes straight to the highway. Bo said people could get away too easy through it, and that too many people would come through here."

She hesitated, waiting for Vincent to reply but he said nothing. Katrina turned around in the bed so she was facing him. He had an odd expression on his countenance that she couldn't place. "What?" she asked.

"What is the point of art no one will ever see, unless they're going to die?" he asked finally.

Katrina pursed her lips. She saw his point, it had been something she had wondered about but didn't want to bring up. "Well . . . they still see it," she answered lamely.

"Bo wants everything his own way."

She nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"If he wanted you, he would take you."

Katrina shook her head. "No he wouldn't. I wouldn't let him." She bit the inside of her cheek, remembering what had happened in the barn.

"What is it?" Vincent asked, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. "You seem . . . different."

"Nothing, babe," Katrina said, forcing lightheartedness into her tone. "I've just been missing you."

He pulled her closer, so their foreheads were touching. After a few minutes, Katrina dozed off. Vincent stayed awake, touching her as if he were still unsure she was actually there.

"I don't want her to leave. I have to find some way to keep her here," he thought, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "She's used to the world outside Ambrose, not a life set apart from everyone else."

Suddenly an idea came to him. His eye brightened. He would get her a gift. One that would make her feel less lonely, less bored . . . and that would show her he cared about her.

"I'll talk to Bo tomorrow morning," Vincent thought as he drifted off into sleep.