Dear Readers,

I apologize for the delay! My cousin has come and gone, and now that my schedule is finally winding down, school is about to start up again! I have roughly two weeks before our first full day, and hope to update a few times beforehand. Once again, thank you so much for your wonderful reviews!

Kodu

.:Disclaimer:.

I own EVERYTHING. Well, except for Silas, and Opus Dei, and the airport, and...okay...never mind.

.:Story Key:.

(Normal) Word - Normal Writing

(Italic) Word - Thoughts/Dreams/Letters

(Normal) "Quotations" - Spoken English (Unless otherwise stated)

(Italic) "Quotations" - Spoken Latin

.:Warning:.

Possible OOC-ness for Silas. My reasoning: he's confused and is trying to get his emotions straight while still trying to maintain a sort of 'tough guy' act. Damaris' emotions also seem to go a little haywire, but she is both angry and frightened and will snap at any moment, and seek comfort from anyone.

.:Note:.

New character introduction in this chapter. After choosing his name, I went a little more in-depth for it's meaning and found out that "Andrea" was the name of a sculptor who taught Leanardo da Vinci. How ironic! There is some Silas/Damaris fluffiness, so feel free to cringe in painor squeel in delight- whichever one you feel is appropriate. Also, some more plot development, and in the next chapter we find out where Silas is taking Damaris!

Once again, I don't update until I get at least 10 reviews!

4

Madmen and Philosophy

.:Where is the line between love and hate? Both are obsessive, both are life-changing. Where is the line between fear and trust? Both will inevitably disappoint you:.

Stepping forward, Silas made to grab the girl's arm, when she jerked back quickly. Growling slightly, he slit his eyes and crossed his arms.

"We must leave. Now."

Trying desperately to delay the inevitable, Damaris shook her head and stared hard into her kidnapper's eyes. She knew downright refusing to leave would be pointless. He was bigger than her and, therefore, had the advantage. Even if she was faster - and the girl didn't even know if she was -, the door was locked and the key was tucked safely away in the man's robes. Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind, and she blurted it out quickly.

"I can't leave! My - my bruises are too suspicious. This sleazy hotel may not have cared, but a flight attendant will."

Proud of her triumph, Damaris lifted her chin slightly to show both dominance - though she could have laughed at the thought of dominating such a giant man - and to emphasize the visibility of her bruises.

Inwardly wincing, Silas instantly began formulating a plan in his mind. Within minutes, he had roughly figured out how to deal with this problem, and grabbed the girl's arms before she could protest any longer.

"We will get some cosmetics to cover them up. But we are leaving."

Trying to wrench away from his iron grasp, the girl thrashed against his body and did everything in her power to cause him as much trouble as possible. The albino, however, just continued walking towards the door, his strength overpowering hers. Gripping both her wrists in one hand, Silas fished into his robe for the key and unlocked the door. Before stepping outside, he turned towards the girl and shook her slightly.

"There are two ways to go about this, girl." The annoyance in his tone was evident, and enough to get Damaris to stop struggling for a moment. Gazing up at him with a mixture of hatred and fright shining in her eyes, the woman quickly became lost in the coldness of his icy blue orbs. Suddenly, she felt very small, and a tiny whimper of protest escaped her throat as the albino stepped closer to her.

Though his scent - a mixture of sweat, wax, and something both sweet yet musky - made her knees weak, the experience was nothing sensual. His closeness was used as a tool to intimidate. Somewhere along the way, she had apparently let it be known that his presence frightened her to the greatest degree.

Silas watched the subtle changes in the girl's features as his body engulfed hers. Fear shone brightly in her eyes, but he wasn't entirely sure her weakness was from fright alone. Smirking, the monk pushed her harshly against a wall.

Damaris let out a gasp of protest, the force of smashing into the wood temporarily knocking the breath out of her.

"Either you can follow me without struggle, or I can drug you and carry you to the airport."

The girl's eyes gazed blindly at the albino's lips, and despite her best efforts she couldn't help a blush from staining her cheeks. An image of his strong arms wrapped around her, circling around her waist and giving her a security no one else had managed, flashed through her mind. Clenching her eyes closed, she forced the thought away and nearly shook herself for her wandering mind.

"Okay..." she whispered shakily, glancing up into her captor's bright blue orbs. "I...I won't fight." The words tasted like bile in her throat, and Damaris had to force them out of her mouth. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run away, but her logical mind fought it by stating just how hopeless that attempt would be.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind, and the beginnings of a plan formed. If she got the albino to trust her, then perhaps he would allow her a little more freedom and, therefore, an easier chance of escape. Well, it was worth a try.

Stepping away from his towering form, Damaris lowered her head and squeezed a few tears out of her eyes. "You win..." She was a horrible actor, but the sobs choking her throat were not fake. "I'll go with you."

And with a shaky sigh, she resigned herself to her fate.

For now, at least...

> > > > > > >

He was tired.

He didn't want to make that call.

After dialing the number, the man instantly regretted it.

Grumbling, the old man stared wearily at the phone in his hands, the drawl of monotonous Latin creeping out of the receiver. The fire in the study had flickered to a low orange glow, the embers shining brightly against the dark gray ash. It was mesmerizing, and the sensation of heat radiating onto his legs and cool air hitting his face made the man yawn lazily. A wrinkled hand lifted slowly to cover his gaping mouth, and a pair of bright green eyes closed in tired ecstasy.

But still the voice droned on.

Shaking himself awake, the man forced his mind into attentiveness.

" - plane leaves soon. The girl has been troublesome, and might not arrive to you completely unharmed..."

"Wait," he snapped hurriedly, trying to catch the albino before he continued. "You are not to harm the child, no matter what the circumstances." We cannot have another Da Vinci incident, the man added in his mind, running a shaky hand through his graying hair.

Pausing a moment before continuing, he heard the labored breathing of the monk on the other line, followed by a muffled "Do not run!" He cleared his throat before speaking.

"You are a messenger, my dear Silas. So try to abstain from the 'Angel of Death' routine and deliver us this girl. Now, after you arrive, I will provide transportation for your journey to my abode. The Teacher will contact you from here. May God be with you..."

Then, as if an afterthought, he added: "...friend."

Flipping his cell phone closed, the man propped his feet up on the plushy red ottoman in front of him. Staring out the window as a flurry of snowflakes brushed against the glass, Andrea Valerius let his overstuffed chair engulf his tired old body.

Allowing his eyelids to droop, the man nodded off, his mind wandering to the old days. The days of the convent, and of the monastery. When a strange pale boy had been dropped on his doorstep by an old friend. Of raising said child as his own, teaching him the ways of God, and praying nightly for his soul; though even in those early days, he had sensed an inevitable darkness overtaking the boy.

Jolting awake from his dreams, Valerius glanced at the clock sitting atop his mantle and realized he had been dozing for the past hour. It was now seven o'clock, and his expected call was well over due.

Arthritic fingers, calloused from years of satisfying toil, gripped for the cell phone laying atop the simple wooden coffee table. After dialing a long series of numbers, the man placed it to his ear and heaved a sigh before someone on the other line picked up.

"Name," came a gruff voice, it's Latin scratchy and almost painful to hear.

"Andrea Morte Valerius." The old man spoke in a softer tone, the language sliding off his tongue in practiced ease.

"Purpose." The questions the voice asked were spoken as statements. Refusal to answer them was not an option.

"Regarding Silas and the child."

There was a pause before the other spoke. "Processing... Do not disconnect."

Valerius could have laughed. It sounded like something a telemarketer might say, though the other's voice was cold enough to make one's blood chill. Tapping his aging fingers against the armrest of his chair, the man waited impatiently.

"Andrea," came a different voice, the words spilling through the receiver sweetly. Valerius crinkled his nose in disgust and shook his head slightly. Some things were just too sweet. It was obvious the other's words were insincere, as his voice held an underlying mocking tone to it.

"How nice of you to call." It continued in that overly sweet manner before switching to a rather dark, spine-chilling voice. "What took so long?"

The old man took a moment to force the anger out of his throat before speaking in a monotonous manner. "The child is being transported as we speak." He purposefully ignored the other's question. "How goes the research with her parents?"

A slight growl from the other line showed things weren't going very well. "We have uncovered his vault, though have come across some obstacles. It is impossible to get inside except for the entrance, and the entrance only opens to those who already know how to get inside. The family is the only way in."

Rolling his eyes at the obvious statement, Valerius replied in an agitated voice. "Then why kidnap the girl? Why not force the father or mother to open the vault?"

"That is impossible," the other replied curtly. "They have some sort of tradition, where the key is passed down to the oldest child at an indeterminable time of age. This girl is their only child. She has the key."

"Then why not steal the key instead of the girl?" His voice was angry,the flames of the fire glinting in his eyes as an incredulous expression overtook his features.

Growling, the voice yelled impatiently at the old man. "Fool! There is more to this lock than just a simple key. We need codes, we need thumb prints and retinal scans. This girl not only has the key, she is the key."

After going over various plans and courses of action, he finally hung up. A deep, anguished sigh escaped the old man's lips as he sunk further into the warm comfort of his chair.

As the dying embers of the fire slowly flickered out, so the man's dying hope slowly extinguished.

> > > > > > >

She had done it again.

That stubborn girl, with her troublesome determination, had fled from his side as they were loading the plane. Silas nearly growled in anger, but realized this wouldn't be too safe of an action as they were in a rather crowded public place. So instead he flew after her, dropping their single suitcase on the spot and trailing the raven-haired girl like a dog.

Damaris had seen her opportunity, and was stupid enough to risk the albino's wrath once again. The bruises along her neck still ached, though they were covered completely with foundation and were invisible to the casual observer. Her kidnapper had taken out his cell phone and took his focus off of her for a split second. It was all the time she needed.

Running like a madwoman through the throng of people boarding the plane, Damaris pushed her way viciously towards the exit. Seeing the smiling face of the lady who had taken up her ticket gave the girl hope. That is, until a strong hand gripped hold of her hair and dragged her backwards against a broad, heaving chest.

Bending down to her level, Silas breathed dangerously into her ear, "Do not run!"

Snaking his arm around the girl's waist, the albino tried his hardest to focus both on the man speaking to him, and the girl struggling in his arms.

"Let...go...of...me!" Damaris hissed dangerously, preparing to strike her captor in the knee with her foot. As if he had sensed this, the albino released her and let her drop to the floor.

By now, nearly everyone boarding the plane was staring at them. For good measure, Silas bent down and gripped her hands gently, entwining her fingers with his and pulling the girl to her feet.

"Shhh...it's okay, sweet," he said for show, wrapping an arm around his captive's shoulders; though it was more to keep her from running again rather than to comfort her. The monk turned to the people watching them and shrugged. "Afraid of flying."

As if this explained everything, the different groups and families turned and continued with what they had been doing before. Slightly shaky from the close encounter, Silas walked the woman into the plane, found their seats, and forcefully pushed her into hers.

Damaris cringed, pushing herself as far away from the man taking a seat beside her as she could. Her seat was by the window - just her luck! - so she was veritably trapped. Buckling herself in with shaky hands, the girl swallowed the sobs choking her throat and willed the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes not to fall. Trying to ignore the albino sitting next to her, she stared blankly at the seat in front of her before realizing she could see his pale hands in her peripheral vision. Shifting to where her back faced him, Damaris rested her forehead against the window and tried to focus on the scene outside, but his reflection in the glass was driving her crazy.

Silas watched the girl attentively, making sure she was doing nothing that could harm him or his mission, though he was fairly certain he had her trapped. Seeing her pain infused with every part of her body, the monk felt an undeniable twinge of guilt pricking at his heart. She loved God, she was innocent, and she didn't deserve what was happening to her. Other people he had kidnapped, even killed...no, he had no regrets of their fate. But this girl was different.

"What is your name?" The question slipped out unexpectedly, and Silas was surprised with himself. Usually he did not care, but this girl intrigued him and he was itching to know her name.

She mumbled something in reply that the monk did not catch.

"What?"

He leaned in closer to hear and was surprised when she twirled around to face him, her nose merely inches from his own. An angry fire burned in her amber eyes, and she slit those beautiful orbs dangerously before speaking.

"I hate you."

Damaris might have seen the flash of hurt surprise that crossed her captor's face if she had not been seeing all red at the moment. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest, so loud she was afraid he might hear it, and her face was flushed with anger. Tears still brimmed her eyes, though they had turned from fear to frustration. Leaning in to the albino - making him, in turn, lean back -, a flurry of angry words spilled from her mouth.

"You hideous beast!" she whispered harshly. "You heartless, soulless monster! I hate you and all the evil you stand for. Messenger of God? Ha! That is reserved for angels alone, and you are a demon!"

She would have continued if Silas had not clamped a hand around her throat. He squeezed slightly, letting her know his intentions if she didn't shut up. The girl instantly froze in terror, and the fire that had lit her eyes only moments before was extinguished. Leaning in to where his body nearly engulfed hers, the monk was about to speak when a woman clearing her throat interrupted him.

"Sir," said the flight attendant, eyeing the two suspiciously. "You need to fasten your seatbelt. The plane is about to leave."

Like a child caught stealing candy, Silas gingerly let his hand slide from the girl's neck - making it look like he had been caressing her rather than about to choke her - and buckled himself into place. When the woman left, he tossed his captive a death's glare before leaning back into his seat.

Damaris gasped and clenched her eyes shut, willing this nightmare away. She could still feel his terrifying grip on her neck, but the memory of his soft hands gliding down her skin brought a blush to her face. Turning away before he could see, the girl took a few moments to collect herself. Her breathing had returned to normal, and her nerves were finally calming down.

Then the airplane started to roar to life.

What her kidnapper had not realized when he spoke before was that she really was afraid of flying. As the high pitched whine of the plane's engines froze her heart in terror, Damaris latched onto the armrest beside her before realizing the albino's hand occupied it.

Silas eyed the girl's hand wearily for a moment before shifting his gaze to hers. Strong blue eyes bore into a pair of frightened golden ones, and the monk felt the smallest bit of pity. Gripping her shaking hand in his pale one, he leaned towards her and mumbled soothing words.

"Shh...it's alright."

The plane turned, lining up with the runaway.

Damaris clenched her eyes shut in terror and tried her hardest to focus on the voice mere inches away from her ear.

"Nothing bad will happen; I fly often."

Silas noted how the girl leaned closer towards him, her head pressed lightly against his shoulder. Wrapping an arm around her body, he shifted to where their legs were touching and squeezed her hand gently.

"I will protect you."

Damaris blushed brightly as the sensation of his body against hers overtook her. His scent was intoxicating, and his strength gave her a sense of security she had never felt. The albino's words washed over her like soothing rainwater, and his fingers curled gently against her hand.

As the plane lifted into the air, Damaris gave the smallest of whimpers and buried her head in the crook of her captor's arm.

Surprised at first, Silas froze in indecision before laying his chin against the girl's straight black hair. Inhaling deeply, he smelt the faint scent of lavender and a more natural scent - like the sweet aroma of flowers after it rained.

As the plane rose gracefully into the air, the couple failed to notice, and clung to each other as if it had lost it's right engine.

Only when the captain came over the intercom to inform the passengers they could now take off their seatbelts did the two separate.

Damaris couldn't will away the bright streak of crimson staining her cheeks, so instead she tried to ignore it. Sitting beside the man in awkward silence was far better than acknowledging anything had ever happened. She hated to admit it, but this was the most physical contact she had had with a man besides her father in years. There was really no particular reason for it; she was just too busy for a boyfriend and Lance wasn't much of a touchy-feely kind of guy. What had occurred mere moments earlier shocked her in many ways. Once, because he was her kidnapper, and two, because she wasn't disgusted by this fact. Her emotions were running wild, and Damaris had no idea what to do, so she dealt with it the only way she knew how: denial.

Silas, on the other hand, was inwardly beating himself just like he would outwardly beat himself later that night. Such contact with a female was forbidden. He was celibate, and this was the most physical contact he had had with a woman in years. He might have blushed, if he had the ability, but instead decided to dwell on his mission to take his mind off of what had happened. It was quickly proving to be impossible, though, as the sensations of the past began to flood his senses, and the aroma of sweet flowers in the rain wafted up towards him seemingly out of thin air. Gazing at his captive, he glared at her as if everything was her fault. He was dealing with it the only way he knew how: denial.

"Peanuts?"

The voice caused both of them to jump, and they glared at the flight attendant with the same deadly look.

Blinking nervously, the blonde backed away. "Guess not..." And she left.

Hours seemed to stretch by, but in truth only about thirty minutes had passed, before Damaris broke the silence.

"Where are we going?" she attempted once again, hoping he would answer her this time.

"God reveals all -"

" - In time. I know." Rolling her eyes, the girl leaned against the window and stared at the albino, studying him carefully under her lashes. It was the first time she had truly looked at him. At first glance, his skin was frightening, but after a while Damaris began to see the almost angelic glow it seemed to give off.

His hands were large and - though you couldn't see it - she knew them to be calloused. Standing at a few inches over six feet, he was a giant of a man, with broad shoulders but an almost lanky body. The albino was much stronger than he appeared, and he appeared pretty strong in the first place.

The girl noticed a scar under his right eye, and tilted her head slightly, inwardly wondering where he might have gotten that. On one of his jobs, no doubt, if he kidnapped people for a living.

Silas felt the girl's eyes studying him, and it took all he had within him to keep from glaring at her in return. So, she was curious as to her White Demon captor? Well then, let her look. Let her gaze upon the freak to have stolen her away. If anything, her fear would show him just how hopeless his affections were. Flinching inwardly at his choice of words, Silas mentally berated himself. Affection? More like pity. No, he didn't care for his captive in that way. He wouldn't allow it. It wasn't right. It was morally wrong, frowned upon by both clergy and God, and he refused to disappoint his superiors...again.

"Why did you want to know my name?" Her words jolted him from his musings.

Turning to look at her, he gave the girl a questioning look. After realizing she wouldn't explain herself, he replied discreetly.

"I still do."

Blinking at his answer, Damaris cocked her head to the side, letting her ebony hair fall slightly into her golden eyes. "Why?"

When he didn't answer, the girl sighed angrily and straightened herself in her seat, crossing her arms over her waist.

"Are you some sort of psychopath?"

"What?" He blinked in confusion and gave his captive his full attention.

"Well, you kidnap me, you beat me, you...comfort me..." Here she trailed off, staring intently at the seat in front of her and refusing to meet the albino's eyes. "...and now you want to know my name. I just don't understand why. Either you're deranged..." Glancing up, Damaris met her captor's gaze. "...or I am."

Hiding his smirk from her comment behind a face of passiveness, Silas answered her almost playfully. "All men are mad to a certain degree."

"Ah, and a philosopher as well," the girl teased, the slightest of smiles creeping up her face. "I agree. All men are mad. Us women are the sane ones."

This time he let the smirk slip past, and saw the light in his captive's eyes at seeing his friendly features.

"So, you are saying you have a sound mind?"

"Define 'sound.'"

"The ability to think and reason without mad desires clouding the mind."

Looking him squarely in the eyes, Damaris answered in a serious tone. "Then no one has a sound mind. If you're not falling for temptation, then you're thinking about falling for temptation. And when you cannot have what you desire, it not only clouds your mind, it consumes it. When we are consumed, we lose the ability to think and reason."

Raising a pale eyebrow, Silas unconsciously leaned closer to her, a sincere smile on his face. "So, the girl is no child after all..." he said, almost to himself. "Tell me, where do you learn such things?"

Shrugging, Damaris grinned. "I take philosophy in college." But slowly the smile faded until a deep sadness shone in her eyes. "I mean...took."

Silas watched as the girl leaned against her seat and heard the sigh of anguish that escaped her lips. He fell back against his own plush chair and closed his eyes slightly. Their moment of playful teasing had been, oddly enough, enjoyable. The monk once again felt that familiar twinge of guilt, and cringed inwardly.

He was a murder. A beast. He spoke constantly of loyalty towards God, but with each step he took his heart told him he was walking down the wrong path while his mind told him this path was the only path. And now he had taken a turn in the rode he had wished never to take. Silas was a kidnapper, a thief, and his heart - for some unnamable reason - ached more now than it ever had before.

Pulling a worn leather bible from the folds of his cloak, the monk rested a hand lightly against the cover and closed his eyes.

Lord, may you guide my fingers and bring me to a scripture of comfort, he prayed silently, then flipped open the book and glanced down at the page.

'Thou shalt not steal,' it read, and Silas inwardly cringed. Perhaps it was the wrong page? he thought gingerly.

Flipping the page, he continued.

'And he that stealeth a man, and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he shall surely be put to death.'

Quickly closing the old book, the albino clenched his fist in frustration. It appeared even God was displeased with him.

"Where are we going?" The voice of the girl broke his thoughts, and he was deeply thankful to her. Her voice was shaky and he could tell that once again she was holding back tears.

Instead of his usual answer, he found the decency to reply honestly. "I cannot tell you." Silas found that his voice was soft and soothing, though God knew he hadn't intended for it to sound so comforting.

There was a long silence after that, and the monk found himself zoning out when his captive broke through his thoughts once again.

This time, however, her words touched his heart.

"My name is Damaris."