Dressed in a pair of black sports trousers and a tank top Catherine jogged at a steady pace across her block. Her ponytail bounced on her back and a few loose strands swung in her face. When she passed the park entrance, she held back for a moment. A smile played about her lips. It had been difficult at times, keeping the secret, but most of the time it was exhilarating. Like she had been chosen to be a part of something magical.
She rounded up her daily run and took the elevator to her apartment. When she unlocked the door, she noticed a small envelop lying on the floor. Quickly she unfolded the letter. With elegant strokes of a fountain pen someone had written:
"The park. 9 PM. V."
She immediately recognized the handwriting. A quick glance at her watch told her it was already 8.45h. She dropped the note on her hall table and pulled the door shut.
She waited for the last park strollers to move out of sight, then hurried into the tunnel, her footsteps echoing around her. Swiftly she watched over her shoulder. No one had followed her. Just a few steps in front of her the concrete door slid open and Vincent walked out of the dark. Even from a distance she could see the worried frown on his forehead.
"Vincent," she said as he opened the iron gate to welcome her in. "You look troubled. What is it?"
His massive silhouette drew closer.
"It's Father," he said. "He had a heart attack. Jonathan is with him."
"Is he going to be alright?"
Vincent released a sigh, revealing glimpses of his sharp fangs.
"It is still uncertain."
"No ..."
Catherine's face distorted in distress. She searched for the right words to comfort Vincent, but everything that came to mind seemed insufficient, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against his chest.
She was still clinging her hands around his arm when they reached the lower level. Before they went into Father's chamber Vincent said: "Word has been sent to Devin."
Catherine nodded in understanding. Devin was Father's biological son. He should be notified.
"Catherine," Jonathan called out to her in his calm and steady voice.
"Jonathan."
She desperately searched his face for a positive sign.
"How is he?"
"It's still too early to tell," Jonathan said. "He needs rest…"
He sighed.
"… and a hospital, but I realize that isn't possible. I wish I had the equipment to treat him below."
"Can this equipment be purchased?" Catherine asked.
Vincent instantly understood what she meant.
"Catherine," he intervened. "I cannot ask this of you."
"You're not asking," she objected. "I'm offering. He has been a father to me as well."
Jonathan lifted an eyebrow. The wrinkles around his mouth deepened.
"I suppose so."
A tentative smile appeared on Catherine's face.
"Good. Tell me what you need."