Vincent lifted his head to Catherine's world –the world of power and angels-. She was close by, he felt her.
As she moved, he moved with her. Parallel words, parallel ways. Not quite the same beauty.
He had been following her for some time now. When she slept, he tried to catch a vision of her dreams to feed his restless ones. When she ate, he sometimes stopped to take a bite pf something he had found somewhere. When she drove a car, he ran behind her, risking his life wildly in the roughest tunnels. She was never alone, and he reached some amount of peace.
The lion's face softened as he got a flash of her beauty. She smiled down, not quite looking at anything.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
"Thank you, Josh!" she answered brightly, as he picked up the notebook for her. "So what about Roxie's birthday?"
"She loved your present, and sends a hug." The man's expression didn't change… it could be because of the dark glasses… but his voice was kind and real.
"I liked her, when we met. I would like to play with her… what a shame that it would put her in danger…"
There is no life without limits. She smiled.
From the day of her wedding –from her betrothal, actually-, there had been worse days: days in which she had cried her soul out because of such memories, nights in which silent tears would fall on Elliot's naked skin. Excuses she had made. Eyes closed while her husband made love to her –daydreams of Vincent's cry of ecstasy in her ears. So she wouldn't fake hers.
"Your humor has improved" Harry intervened.
She stared at him, not seeing him actually.
"And that's an understatement" Josh pointed. "For some time now, you have been…"
They changed a look. Peaceful, perhaps? Normal?
Time cures everything.
She answered coolly:
"Rich people tend to be a bit neurasthenic. Wonder why…"
It happened then. She would remember it as if it had happened in slow camera. The hellish sounds –explosion, bullets. Harry covering her with his body as Josh tried to respond to the fire, his body convulsing with its potency. As he fell she saw the enemy… no masks, just faces lined in determination. As that of Joe, when he was actually working…
Harry pushed her behind the blinded car.
"Give me a gun"
He didn't answer, focused in keeping them alive. If she took the spare firearm from his pocket, the moment of distraction would kill them both. Damn. She crawled under the car, to see some of the enemies falling. There were too many of them. If she could just reach Josh's body… -Josh's body, she realized with horror.
The moment Harry fell, she knew they were dead.
Then, there came the growl. She shivered with relief. It took her a moment to turn her gaze to Harry. He was more wounds than skin. She checked his pulse, nonetheless. Sure enough, he was dead. Not now, Cathy, she fought back the tears. Careless… we were careless… just because we were near the house, it didn't mean we were safe. She bit her fist, drowning the scream.
All around her there was blood, and more screams. No one had escaped. She didn't dare to look until the noise stopped. Vincent was pushing the last man against a wall and beat him and beat him and…
"Stop!" Catherine cried. "Stop it, Vincent" She hugged him from the back, limiting his movements. There was a frustrated growl as he turned, rage plain in his face. She wouldn't be quick enough to run, she didn't ever try… just kept holding him, eyes now closed, bracing herself for the pain, for the nails on her back as he tried to rip her out. She didn't see the flash of recognition in his eyes. She didn't open her eyes until his mouth fell over hers.
He never felt her fighting back, or pushing him. Her movements, if anything, made him crush her to his body, molding her to him until she recognized him. Then she gave herself in, with neither fear nor pleasure. He wasn't a stranger, yet he was strange; the Vincent she knew had never done this –though perhaps she had wanted him to.
Eight months stood between them.
There came the voices, and his gaze over hers, full of surprise and sorrow –not guilt: sorrow-, and he was gone. She had nearly no time to rub her mouth with the back of her hand, before Elliot's men arrived.
The closest ones formed a protective ring around her while the others traced their surroundings. She had no idea of how Vincent had escaped.
"Are you hurt?" someone said.
"I'm all right" she assured. "Did someone survive? Anyone"
She was already crying.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
"She didn't respond." Vincent's dark growl almost made Diana cover her ears.
"Why did you kiss her?" she barked, fully aware of the answer, and of the fact that she had no power to change it.
His fits hit the rock once… twice… his forehead followed.
"It's obvious that she doesn't want you back in her life"
She looked away, fully aware that he was crying.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
"Mrs. Burch is tired. Leave her alone, please."
All investigators stood and thanked her for her patience. People she knew, people she had shared her meal with… they obeyed her orders as if she was a princess. I am she thought, bending her head. And because of that, she was left alone, a blanket covering her, a cup in her hand. Pretty classic, Cathy, she thought.
A jeweled white cat rubbed against her leg.
I would have pushed harder, insisting in interviewing the witness. I am… was… much better than they are.
The tea was warm in her hands.
"Mr. Burch on the phone"
The maid picked up the phone and turned on the speaker. Faraway sounds echoed in the room.
"Cathy! Are you all right?"
She simply shook her head. Anything else, and she would throw up.
"They will pay, Cathy, I promise…"
"They are all dead…" she muttered.
"Their bosses, all the way up to God. You'll have their heads…"
She looked at the phone, blankly.
"They are all dead, Elliot… All of them…"
And she burst in tears.
"Cathy!" he called. "Cathy, look… You are safe. Our house is a safe place. Don't leave until we know…"
"Will you come?"
She felt the answer in his pause.
"Cathy, do you know what I am working on?"
Catherine nodded rigidly.
"It would be the biggest project since…"
"Burch's tower, I know"
"We have brought a team of specialists from all around the world, just the best of them. I cannot leave now, Cathy. The second meeting would…"
"It's fine, Elliot. I will be fine"
He seemed to be struggling against himself.
"Are you sure?"
"I am. It's not the first time I have seen someone die" she marked the irony, but he didn't want to hear it. Nor the first time you are traveling as I fight it alone. "I would like to spend some time in my old apartment. With your men at the door, there's virtually no risk, it's too high. Do you mind?"
"I would be too busy to call for the next days."
"That's a deal" she faked a smile he couldn't see.
"Thank you, Cathy" he sighed. It was the best credit her acting skills would have. "Good night. Sleep well"
As the sound turned into a rhythmic beep, she reached for the cat. It squirmed uncomfortably in her arms. She didn't notice its nails, merely the warmth it brought.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
"She is there"
The beast stood, and Diana stood with him. She had been getting over a case with him –although, for once, he hadn't been quite helpful-. Her thoughts were still with Heathcliff's murderer.
"There?"
"Our balcony" his voice caressed the word: our, as in shared. "I will go to her"
Taking his cloak, he headed to the exit… until Diana stepped into his way.
"You know that there is no way to stop me, don't you?" he said quietly, a dangerous rasping in his voice.
Her blue eyes defied; his, stayed steady and sure, and she surrendered. But as he left the chamber, she asked:
"If she wants you… if she gives herself to you… Will you accept her back?"
He stopped for a moment.
"Do you have to ask?"
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
He drank in her shape, braced on the balcony, staring at the distance as some romantic figure. It enthralled him and blinded him at the same time. Such beauty… How had he dared to want it? To dream of touching it? His features softened, then he looked away. Happiness was bittersweet and not to be taken in large doses.
"They are dead…" she said "all dead… all dead…" like a mantra.
They deserved it the beast thought, but the man said:
"Your life was worth it… for them"
"All dead…" Her wide eyes sought the distance. "All dead…"
A fat cat, at her feet, nosed her and licked its snout. Vincent sniffed slightly. The breeze carried a metallic smell towards him. With a silent curse, he stepped forth.
"You are still covered in blood."
"All dead…"
He took her in his arms and carried her into the shower. The cold water made her shiver. Her first response.
"Wash yourself" was his order.
As if awakening from a nightmare, she stared at him, then at the shower, then told him to leave. Clean clothes were, nonetheless, inside the bathroom when she finished her bath… clothes she no longer used to wear…
"Thank you" she muttered.
Through the door, she heard his words.
"Don't mention it"
She was trembling when she walked out. He had lightened the fire, and her silk nightgown didn't expose much of her; but the coldness inside persisted.
"Come here" he stretched his hand; she stepped in and took it.
He made her sit close to the fire. The cat didn't come, and it was nowhere to be found: scared of Vincent's snarl, it must be, shivering under some cushion; not that she cared. Surrounding her with his arms, he sat behind her. A shiver of strangeness ran down her spine. He, on the contrary, behaved natural. His body was feverish, as animal skin. Without conscious decision, she found herself leaning on it.
"Do you want me to recite something for you…? To help you sleep…"
She nodded.
Despite the months stretching between them –as many as those they had spent together- his voice was familiar. It quieted her feverish thoughts. She couldn't understand the words –the language foreign, one she had never learned-, but the sound was musical. She found herself, not trying to fall asleep, but fighting it back… and failing.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
She was awake long before dawn. The fire was extinguished, but he still watched over her, holding her closely… a pleasant surprise, even if she couldn't see anything more than his shadow. She wondered fleetingly if the old Vincent would have stayed.
"Vincent?"
"Mmm-mmm?"
"Why did you come?"
He blinked.
"You called me"
"Will you always be there whenever I call you?"
A heartbeat, and then:
"Will you want me there?"
She snuggled closer. Does she think of me as a teddy bear? His body responded furiously to her closeness; he didn't ever try to temper it.
"How have you been, Vincent?"
"Enjoying the gift of life you gave me." She didn't hear the irony, never imagined there was some, for she didn't know this Vincent. "What about you?"
She tried to sit, but his arms held her still. Her head rested on his shoulder. Her breath, now, caressed his neck, but he didn't mind.
"It's not so hard"
She looked out, beyond the balcony doors. The breeze made the curtains waver.
"It's kind of boring: I can't work; it's not forbidden, but I'm in enough danger without putting myself on the line" she smiled.
"I see"
There was something missing, she felt it even if she couldn't put a finger on it. It unnerved her.
"Once you said that if you… if you loved him… nothing would have to change… between us."
She bit her lip, understanding the question in his voice, all too well. She had made it herself, whenever Elliot wasn't there, whenever he was, whenever she felt the empty void in her heart where love for a husband must have been.
Nonetheless, who was this Vincent who dared to ask?
His arms twitched as he let her go. For the first time she looked into his eyes. Had they been this grey before? As his stare held hers, everything else vanished.
"Would you stand such a friendship?"
An unnatural laugh rose to his throat, but he muted it. The old Vincent must be somewhere inside; he sought him, for the answer he would give. The best phrase he found was a confession:
"No hell is worse than the lack of you"
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
"She wants us to be friends" he growled.
Diana didn't try to approach him.
"Burch paid a price for her"
"She isn't a whore!" he barked, for the first time looking into her eyes. "Her sacrifice was made for me"
"His was for her"
"She doesn't love him! She doesn't…!"
"Belong to him?" she laughed. "If not, she wouldn't…"
She found herself up the wall, his claws gripping her coat –his nails piercing it. His body approached hers menacingly.
"This… you would never allow her to see this"
"This is the Vincent she thought she would love"
As Diana suffocated, she met his eyes, and time stopped running. She remembered how she had met him: her heart beating as she waited for Catherine's secret, his shadow bringing light, the way he had bowed to put the lamp on the floor -fearless, having nothing to lose.
From the moment she had been assigned to the case Catherine had just left –Abey's case-, Diana had felt something odd about the investigation… about its perfection: there were very few mistakes, all clues became proofs, and there were too many hints whose source was nowhere to be found; and as Diana looked through Catherine's old cases, she recognized the same phenomenon in them. She must have a secret source. When the official inquiry reached a dead end, Diana aimed at finding that resource instead. It hadn't been hard for her to discover Catherine's mystery… not quite the same help the lawyer had had in Abey's case, but still… Diana had never regretted the deviation.
By the moment she finally met him, she had already imagined that there must be something strange about him; she didn't flinch at his looks. What she had never guessed, was his living, breathing power, his serenity, his control and his madness; the world inside of him. He would have been a voice calling for her to stop, to look deeper, to find what was first and endless. He would have been her salvation. But he was broken. His power lured her, conquered her mercilessly and with no regards for her soul.
What a paradox, then, that all she cared to remember at the moment of her death was her killer.
"Are you all right?"
She coughed and breathed deeper, her back half turned towards him. His arms tightened around her, but she slipped from them.
"You convulsed" he said.
He wasn't mad with worry, but his arms were still extended as if pleading for forgiveness. She eyed them without suspicion as she coughed again. His warmth told her he would help (try to, anyway) and it made her feel strangely safe.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
Sighing, Catherine put the book aside, the cat on the floor, and rose. There were green appetizing apples on the table, just waiting for her teeth. One of the privileges of a wealthy life… along with time…
Yes, there was time enough to do anything: to watch TV, to play, to read… unfortunately, she couldn't use it for much more, since it wasn't wise to leave the place. Perhaps that was the reason, but when she was her daddy's child she had never gotten so bored.
A discreet knock on the door distracted her for a minute.
"We are changing sentries" the man warned her. "Are you all right?"
"I am"
There were also her friends; now they were working and living and… catching criminals. She sighed. Her time as a detective, from the distance, seemed no less than a list of successes.
And there was Vincent.
Her body found the balcony before she had even thought about it. This was her favorite place, where she came to dream… and yet, the sounds of life, almost twenty floors below her, unnerved her. This golden paradise at this hour seemed nothing but a bus stop.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
"Vincent!"
He hurried, as if fleeing from light; but the caller walked into his path. He cursed soundly. It was early, everyone Below was working, no one was supposed to see him as he retrieved some things from his old chamber. But he wasn't paying attention. He hadn't noticed the presence. Again, it was hard to hear mouse's steps.
"OK good?" the boy said, smiling. "Grabbing a book?"
He growled softly, hiding his treasure into his cloak.
"Must see everyone" Mouse said. "Jamie misses… Father misses… children…" Vincent tried to escape. The boy blocked the way again.
"Miss Vincent's Catherine too. 'Lost two friends instead of one' Pascal said."
Vincent looked at the rocky floor, letting the boy speak. Much later, he would realize how easily he could have fled; he would wonder why he hadn't. As Mouse fed him with news of the ones he had once loved, he could think of nothing else…
Some steps sounded behind him. Just then he pushed Mouse aside… not as rudely as he had deserved. No one else saw him. In fact, no one believed Mouse. Vincent was already a ghost, a myth to his very world.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
There was a rose… inside of a book, in her bedroom… A red rose.
There was another, its thorns piercing a piece of paper. "I have missed you" it read.
The third rose was in his hand.
She walked to him, and felt the void filling. Her smile hid a burst under layers of sweetness.
"This one has no thorns" he assured.
She received it in the calyx of her joined hands.
"It's beautiful" She wasn't looking at the rose, afraid she would burst in tears. He wasn't, either.
"It is"
It was a courting. She answered the way she always had: mystified, enthralled. For it had always been a courting. He wondered how he had deceived himself into thinking that they were just friends… that loved each other, but were still friends. Months. He had deluded himself for months, thinking that he could keep this chaste… platonic… and why? This path, sooner or later, ended in…
He gasped at the thought.
"Now I must go"
"So soon?"
"I have something to do"
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
He was reading. Diana stopped at the entrance, braced on its wall, astonished. All the candles in the room surrounded him, giving him light enough… and a glowing circle for his golden skin, in a corner… the only lightened place in this chamber.
"Diana" he acknowledged, not lifting his gaze.
She shook her head.
"I had never seen you read."
"You knew I liked it" He turned the page, looking absently at it. A finger traced it.
"I had noticed you quoted" She stepped into the chamber and looked over his shoulder. It was hard to focus in the book, when his handsome shape was in the middle. "Shakespeare"
"My favorite" he commented while lifting a cup of wine to his mouth.
"Do you want me to read for you?"
The purple liquid entered his mouth, and she savored it, enthralled.
"I had never seen you drink"
He smiled.
"So many things you haven't seen of me…" and you still claim to know me.
"Did you steal it?" she pointed to the bottle.
He received the question with much more indifference than she felt, and answered with another:
"Would it be the worst thing I have ever done?"
He read for a moment more, turned the page.
"No, I didn't" he answered at last. Nothing more.
She sat beside him, hugging her knees. Funny, how she didn't feel quite a part of his enchanted world, even being among the same candles.
"So… you are much more in control than yesterday…"
"The beast is content"
"Are you fighting it again? Don't you know by now it's useless?"
"My darker brother and I are content with walking side by side. I just need to control some things. Kissing her, for example." His tone was indifferent, and his gaze was on the book. "The deep respect I have for her, helps somehow; it became visceral through the months we spent together."
Respect…
"Didn't you kiss her already?"
"Just once" he admitted.
So… not last night… Diana's eyes narrowed. Did it feel like a triumph? Like a retreat, a coming back to his former self? However, the ending was implicit: eventually I won't have to struggle anymore.
"There are more crucial matters to discuss" His eyes deviated towards her, just for a moment. Despite the candlelight they reflected, she could see them relaxed. "Do you know who is trying to kill her?"
"There are a lot of people wondering just that"
"I ask you to investigate it"
There was no question in his gaze, it was halfway between a compliment and an order.
And why not?
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
Preview:
For the first time since they had met again, she needed to know something, and she observed... really observed. The way he moved, the way he dressed. All of it had changed. His grace, always perfect, now had an openly sensual side. He wasn't just comfortable: he was glad that he had this body. She could swear his clothes didn't have nearly as much layers as they used to. When she had –there was no other way to say it- slept in his arms, she had felt it, but just now she made the connection.
B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B&B
Reviews?
