"Watch them not even be here!" Cato sighed in frustration. "We've been traveling for months. Is this even the place that Javert found her?"
"Not quite," Garridan replied. "We're still technically in France. The town is half a day's journey north of here, just across the border. See, if we get too close, then they'll come straight after us. But if we keep our distance, they won't realize we're here until we've taken her and gone."
"But won't they come straight to the camp once they realize she's missing?"
"You idiot!" Garridan cried. "We won't be going back to the camp! At least not with her."
"Are you serious?" Cato cried. "We've come all this way just to kill her? I never agreed to this!"
"Not just kill her you fool. I've been in touch with some of my black market contacts. There's an old lodge that's been abandoned for ages, probably belonged to some family who got their heads sliced off way back in the Revolution. It's used mainly by smugglers now. Anyway, after we have her, we can keep her hidden away there until we're done with her."
"And what happens when the camp is ready to move on?" Cato asked. "Are you going to kill her then? Or are we going to take her with?"
His brother shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Why? You getting cold feet?"
Cato shook his head. "I just don't like blood."
Garridan rolled his eyes. "Come on, we've got quite a long way to go still."
Hours later, the two rode into a small German town. Cato vaguely remembered this place, mostly because the woods surrounding the village were where they had originally found her. He turned to Garridan. "Now we're here, how do we find her?"
His brother stopped a man walking nearby. "Excuse me Sir. We're looking for a man who once lived at the Opera Populaire in Paris. He wears a white mask. He's an old acquaintance of ours that we believe is living in the area. Do you possibly know where we can find him?"
The man nodded. "Ah, yes, Herr Destler. He is the pianist at my theater now. Yes, he and his wife live on the edge of the lake, about a mile that way," he explained, pointing the way.
"Thank you," Cato said before exchanging triumphant grins with his brother and the two took off.
Katja closed her eyes and moved closer to her husband. He was humming softly and caressing her swollen belly lovingly. Every so often the baby would kick under Erik's hand, a sensation that Katja had quickly grown used to. "What are we going to name the baby?" she asked. "You know, I had that check-up with that midwife a few days ago, and she said that the baby is only a few weeks away."
Instantly, her husband froze mid-note, his hand lying lightly on her abdomen. For a moment he was silent, before he finally spoke. "I suppose that's something we need to consider. After all, the baby isn't going to wait until after we decide." The two fell quiet as they began to think.
Erik leaned in and kissed her along her jawline and finished with a playful nip to her earlobe. His hand slid up her torso to cup her breast, which he began to knead. She threw her head back, let out a low moan, realized what she was doing, and then gently pushed him back. "Baby names, remember?"
"Alright, alright," he sighed before beginning to trace circles on her stomach. The disappointment in his voice was obvious, but he didn't press further. It wasn't that Katja didn't want to make love to her husband, it was just that it was awkward with her stomach as big as it was, and her back often ached, making it uncomfortable for her. Katja could tell that Erik was doing his best to understand, and neither of them wanted to risk hurting the baby, but they both couldn't wait to be able to be intimate again.
"What would you like to name the baby?" Erik asked after a few more moments of silence. "I'm not exactly familiar with German names."
"I was thinking something French," Katja replied. "I always thought French was prettier than German. And it wouldn't be odd, seeing as we're on the border."
"Whatever you'd like." Erik began to massage her shoulders. "Would you like to start with girl names or boy names?"
Ayesha jumped into Katja's lap, obviously jealous of the attention she was getting from Erik. Katja began to stroke the kitten's fur and closed her eyes in contentment. The only thing that could make this moment better would be having a baby to care for. "Girl names," she said, finally answering her husband's question. "It makes sense, seeing as we're having a daughter."
While Erik didn't say anything, Katja knew he was rolling his eyes at her. He still questioned the baby's gender, but Katja had continued to dream of a little girl, and she knew it was her daughter. "What do you think of Nicolette?" he finally suggested.
She shook her head. "No. Anneliese?"
"Caroline?"
"Erika?" she suggested, a grin breaking out on her face, knowing exactly how Erik would react.
Her husband swatted her shoulder playfully. "Absolutely not."
"Okay, Erika's out. How about Gisele?"
He shook his head. "No, I don't like that. Noelle?"
She crinkled her nose. "No. Madeline?"
Katja must have said something wrong. Erik grew rigid behind her, and his hands left her shoulders. "No."
Curious to know what had caused his sudden, strong reaction, Katja turned to look at him. His face was tense and his eyes were burning with anger. "Why?"
"Because I said NO!" he roared. Erik rarely lost his temper anymore, and his rage was never ever directed at her, causing Katja to visibly flinch at his outburst and Ayesha to leap from her lap and flee the room. He stood abruptly and stormed over to the window and stared outside, his hands in tight fists at his side.
"I…I'm sorry," she stammered. "I just wanted to know why it upsets you so."
"It was her name," he spat.
"Who's name?"
"My mother's."
Katja had no idea that such venom could be attached to the one person in life that was supposed to love you unconditionally. Erik must have had an awful childhood, even before he was captured by the gypsies. "What did she do to you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she stood and cautiously approached him.
"She despised me; she was ashamed of the monster she had given birth to," Erik hissed. "I wasn't allowed out of my room without my mask, I wasn't allowed to speak to her unless spoken to, I wasn't even allowed to touch her." Katja remained silent, realizing that this was why he felt the need to constantly be holding her; she didn't mind his embrace. She hugged Erik in a feeble attempt to comfort him. "And then he came along."
"Your father?"
Erik shook his head. "My father died before I was born. This was a doctor who was courting my mother. He couldn't stand me and tried to convince my mother that I was mad and needed to be locked in a sanatorium."
Her hands flew to her mouth in shock. "Surely she didn't agree to that! She was your mother for God's sake!"
"I never found out," Erik replied. "He tried to drug me that night, but it didn't take effect as he intended. Instead of falling unconscious, it just made me slightly delirious. However I was aware enough of what was going on that I ran away that night. If my mother was even considering it, I wanted nothing to do with her anymore. I was only a child and starving when I stumbled upon a camp in the woods. I thought I could steal something, just a few mouthfuls of food to keep myself alive a while longer. But Javert caught me, he pulled my mask off, and well, you know what happened then…"
"Oh God Erik," she whispered. "I…I can't believe…"
"It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter now."
Katja put her hand on his shoulder. "Erik…"
He shrugged her off. "Just forget I ever said anything," Erik said, trying to hide how upset he still was. "What were we doing? Baby names? What's another suggestion?"
She could tell that Erik needed to calm down, but if she argued with him, it would only make things worse. "Well, what about Belle?"
Erik didn't answer her and just stared out the window for a long while. Finally he walked towards the door. "I need some air," he announced. "I'll be back in a while."
"Don't be too long," Katja said softly as he walked out. She sighed and looked down at Ayesha, who was rubbing up against her ankles. "Oh Ayesha, what are we going to do with him?" Katja asked in exasperation as she picked the kitten up.
