Author's Note: Hey guys! Happy New Year Everyone! Thank you for the reviews and the follows', you're all such lovely people, and you made me so happy! Updates are every Wednesday and remember that although I am taking a break from writing my other Karla and Saul stories, this will feature them quite heavily. The back-story of my characters is completely fictional, I made it up to suit the story and I in no way own these characters or the Savant idea- all rights go to Joss Stirling. This will also be featured on my blog; the link is in my author profile. This is about the boys finding their soulfinders and if you have any questions, then feel free to jump up and down, waving your hands in the air. Thank you for reading and reviewing in advance, I hope you enjoy! Xxx

Chapter Three

Streets of Denver, Colorado

Little happened in the days that followed the attempted kidnapping of Anya Benedict; the youngest Benedict has returned to school on Monday morning for the last week of term as promised by her mother, and Victor found himself struggling to keep on top of the work this new case was giving him thanks to a minor legal issue that held things back a few days. As such, Victor still had yet to get a hold of his parents to discuss the problem with the fingerprints found on the telephone used to call the police in the little café in Mexico. Karla and Saul were so focused on keeping the ski lift going as a sudden surge of customers and students had engulfed their business now the Christmas season had officially started, that they barely had time for each other, let alone their eight children.

On the other hand Trace Benedict, the eldest Benedict son, had more free time than he knew what to do with. He spent his days at the station filling out forms and worked a two hour night shift patrolling his designated area of Denver. He supposed his quadrant wasn't too bad of a place to patrol; it was full of nightclubs and late night bars, which significantly broke up the boredom. It also gave his mother an opportunity for her to keep an eye on her younger sons if they went out with friends; if they ended up in a club completely incapable of looking after themselves, Trace was to drop them home. Now while Trace was glad to see his brothers home safe, and it saved him a lecture from his mother at the same time, it was always awkward to clean up your own brother's vomit from your own car. "Taking one for the team," as Yves had said the last time he opened the front door to a vomit covered Zed and an irritated Trace.

"Yes mom," Trace said calmly into his mobile as he crossed the street, steaming coffee cup in his other hand. "Yes mom, I'm sure-"

Trace nodded and rolled his eyes as his mother chattered down the line. "Honestly Trace it is a Friday, and while I want Zed to enjoy himself with his friends, I just want you to keep an eye on him."

"Yes mom."

"I just don't want him to drive his bike and get it wrapped around a tree or lamppost, you I couldn't stand it if he got hurt, especially as he as exams and they are really important and-"

"Yes mom, I know!" Trace snapped back into the mobile and then his heart sank. Karla always had the phone on speaker, so she could continue with whatever she was doing as she talked. If Karla was home at this time, then so was Saul.

"Trace," his father's rumbling voice joined the conversation. "I have told you time and time again, please do not use that attitude and tone with your mother, it is completely disrespectful." Trace mouthed the end of the sentence word for word, having heard this lecture a hundred times with Zed. "And stop mouthing the words Trace! Now all your mother is asking is that if you see Zed getting into trouble with his friends then please cut in and bring him home so we can deal with him. Is that too much to ask?"

"No dad," Trace said through gritted teeth.

"Good. Now apologize to your mother," Saul commanded and Trace rolled his eyes again.

"Sorry mom,"

"It's fine darling- oh Trace, and thank you honey, you're so good to keep an eye on him for us."

"It's no problem."

There was a giggle, a murmur, a shuffle and what sounded like several kisses. Trace winced. He loved his parents and he'd do anything for them but hearing them kiss on the other end of the phone made him feel really uncomfortable. He reached the entrance to the police station and said loudly into the phone; "Mom, dad, I have to go, so I'll see you on Sunday for lunch?"

There was a quick giggle and a gasp. "Trace! Sorry darling, we must be keeping you. Yes, Sunday, one o'clock. Don't be late darling-" there was an abrupt squeal and the phone cut off. Trace pulled a face, took a sip of his coffee and pushed through the crowd by the door to reach the main desk. Saskia, a blonde regular smirked and leaned over the top.

"You're in early for a Friday," Trace commented and she giggled, tracing her fingers along the counter and licking her lips. Saskia didn't normally turn up here until three at the earliest, nine was a bit early for her, even on a Friday. She giggled again and swayed on her heels. "Boyfriend?"

She sniffed. "The bastard's gone off with another fucking whore hasn't he?" The tell tale tear stains on her cheek made her look more unhappy than she acted. Trace attempted to look sympathetic, but it clearly wasn't working as Saskia snorted and turned her back on him. He drained the last of his coffee and turned to Mark, an older policeman he had become good friends with.

"Okay, I'm off," Trace said, shrugging on his jacket and pocketing his keys and mobile. Mark grinned.

"Have a good evening Trace," Mark called as Trace left the station, nodding to Saskia as he did so.

A mountain, the Ski Lift, Wrickenridge

"Okay guys that was really good," Karla Benedict said as the last of her class of teens surrounded her. "Really well done. Now you should begin to make your way back to the lift- no Holly, don't worry about the cones, I'll clear them up." The snow was falling heavily and it was getting darker rapidly, so Karla shooed the last of her class up the hill, before reaching down for the first yellow cone.

"Mrs Benedict?" A sullen voice said and Karla stood upright, smiling as she saw who it was.

"Drake? Are you alright?" she asked.

"Oh I'm alright Mrs Benedict," the thickness of his Scottish accent breaking through and Karla reached down for another cone, confusion filling her eyes.

"Drake, I swear you didn't have an accent like that before-"

THWACK!

Karla never saw it coming, the heavy rock hitting her in the side of her face and knocking her to the ground. She was clearly unconscious, blood trickling down the side of her face and staining the snow red. Drake snorted, tapped a button on his phone and began to talk into it.

"She's out. Go for the girl."

The Ski Lift, Wrickenridge

Saul looked at his watch and swore quietly. Karla was never late to pick up Anya, never, but she was still on the mountain and it was almost half four now. He looked at his watch again and pulled out his phone.

Gone to pick up Anya

Are you okay?

X

The message sent and Saul slung it in his pocket, grabbing his jacket and throwing his keys at Zed. "I'm going to pick up your sister, lock up for me?"

Zed yelled something in reply, but Saul barely heard him as he jogged down to his Chevy and slammed the door. The engine rumbled into life and he quickly pulled out onto the main road.

Wrickenridge Elementary and Middle School, Class 3J,

The bell rang throughout the school and Anya's eyes lit up with excitement. Finally school was over for the semester and it was the Christmas holidays. Anya quickly packed up her books and pencils, pushing her chair beneath her desk and standing behind it. Mrs Jensen, her teacher, smiled at Anya from in front of the blackboard and clapped her hands to get the class's attention.

"Okay boys and girls, have a wonderful Christmas and I'll see you in the new year. Class dismissed!"

There was a ferocious wave of chatter as the rest of Anya's class sped out of the classroom and onto the playground, Sadie remembering to give Anya a shove as she passed the much smaller girl. Anya fell backwards and landed flat on the floor.

"Freak!" Sadie's best friend Martha sneered and Anya stuck her tongue out at the girls once their backs were turned. Getting upright on her feet, she pulled her coat on and slung her backpack over her shoulder and marched out of the classroom, her head held high. Mrs Jensen was stood by the playground gate and smiled again as Anya came closer.

"Did you forget something Anya?"

"My coat ma'am," Anya replied quietly, looking up at Mrs Jensen, a young teacher with long blonde hair and who always wore a blue dress on Wednesdays. "Can you see my momma Mrs Jensen?"

"No, I was looking for her; I was hoping to get the recipe for her brownies, the ones you brought in today, my, they were delicious."

"My momma's the best cook in the world Mrs Jensen!" Anya said proudly and Mrs Jensen laughed. Slowly the playground began to filter out the last few remaining parents until there was no one left. Anya bit her lip and looked up at Mrs Jensen. Her momma was never late, not ever.

"Do you think your mom's running a bit late today Anya?"

"I think so ma'am, I know she was skiing today, she might have just lost track of time. Besides, the cable car's still broken, so she has to walk back up the mountain and that takes a long time."

Mrs Jensen nodded. "Yes I heard. Well, wait here with me and if your mom doesn't arrive in twenty minutes we'll telephone home okay?"

"Okay."

"Is your dad going to fix the cable car?"

"Yes ma'am, it's just a dodgy bolt but daddy doesn't wanna take any risks." Anya began to fumble with the buttons on her coat and eventually slid her hands in her pockets. Mrs Jensen looked at her watch and shivered.

The reception area was blue and white, with varying plants dotted around the room. Mrs Jensen was talking in a low voice to the woman in reception, while Anya continued with her new book. She had almost finished it when Mrs Jensen tapped on her shoulder. She had her bags with her and her coat on.

"Anya, Miss Bloom is phoning your father okay?" Mrs Jensen indicated the receptionist who waved at Anya. "She's going to get him to pick you up because we can't get hold of your mother." Anya nodded and Mrs Jensen smiled tightly. "Have a good Christmas Anya."

"You too Mrs Jensen," Anya replied, a little sad that her mother wasn't here to pick her up and meet Mrs Jensen.

By the time Anya had finished her math homework and her book, Saul still hadn't arrived, and neither had her mother. There was a screech of tires from outside the building and Anya looked up to a tall woman with long dark hair marching into the school building. She wore higher heels than Karla, which made Anya slightly uneasy. The doors slammed behind her and upon reaching the front desk- at which point Miss Bloom looked up- pulled out a shot gun and fired at the young receptionist. Anya screamed as the glass shattered and blood spattered the walls, but made no movement, too afraid to change her position. She recognized the woman from the other night and slowly her insides chilled. She stood and the woman smirked and turned towards her. Anya began to back away.

"Come on Anya, I'm nothing to be afraid of," she taunted and a tear fell down Anya's cheek. "You're going to help with a favor, little Benedict."

"I'll never help you!" For nine years of age, Anya appeared to be braver than most. The woman rolled her eyes.

"If you don't, your precious daddy won't make it home, and poor, poor mommy won't have her soulfinder anymore, and we don't want that, do we?" Anya shook her head, her dark brown eyes never leaving the woman's. She smirked again. "Good, now come with us Anya, and mommy and daddy stay together."

Outside it was cold without her coat, dressed only in a jumper and trousers. Her converse were wearing thin, the lump in her throat grew bigger as she thought of her momma's promise to buy her new ones for Christmas. She sniffed, eyes never leaving the gun at the woman's side.

"Anya!" The girl in question gasped and stopped still, turning to face the owner of the voice and crying out with relief as her daddy began to make his way towards her.

"Daddy!"

"Anya baby, come here sweetheart."

A gun pressed into Anya back and she looked up at the woman. A voice entered her mind and Anya tried to push it back but her shield weren't strong enough. You don't know who that man is Anya. That man will hurt you if you go near him. Tell him you want to go with Ridley. Tell him you don't know who he is.

"I don't know who you are!" Anya repeated, although her voice shook.

"Anya, you know who I am princess," Saul called back, still making his way across the parking lot towards them. "You don't know what you're saying honey, come here and let me take you home-"

"You'll try and hurt me." Anya said coolly, her voice was more confidant, eyes narrowed. She seemed to stand taller. "I want to go with Ridley." She asserted and Ridley laughed.

"You see Benedict?" she sneered. "Your precious daughter wants to join the bad guys! Now run along, and give darling Karla a message from me; if you want your daughter home safe and sound, don't testify to Victor's little case."

Saul ignored this. "Give me my daughter now!"

"No!" Ridley laughed and shoved Anya through the open doorway and slammed it shut. From inside Anya began to scream, her hands hitting the windows.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Ridley slipped into the driver's seat and sped away, leaving a distraught and angry Saul in her wake.

The Benedict Home, Wrickenridge

Saul didn't bother locking the car as he ran from the Chevy to the front door bursting in it to find a bloody and bruised Karla sat on a chair at the kitchen table, Xav knelt by her side, holding a flannel to her forehead.

"Saul!" Karla said quietly, eyes looking him up and down. "Where's Anya? Zed said you'd gone to pick her up."

Saul stared at her for a moment before stumbling towards her and falling to his knees, crying. Karla gasped and elbowed Xav away as she pulled Saul's head onto her lap, running her hand across his hair.

"You're head!" Xav protested.

Karla ignored him, shooing him away as she began murmuring comforting words to her husband. "Darling, it's okay, don't cry. Honey, tell me what's wrong. Saul, sweetheart, please, please, you have to tell me."

Saul raised his head and blinked a couple of times. "Anya," he mumbled, "they got Anya and I couldn't stop them."

"Okay," Karla said, although her voice was shaky. "we'll call the police, we'll um," her voice broke and she began to cry. "Oh God Saul, our little girl,"

"I know."

"She's only nine!"

"I'm sorry, darling, I'm sorry I didn't stop them, I'm sorry-"

Karla shook her head, sliding off the chair and kissing him firmly. "It is not your fault." She told him, in that no-nonsense tone he had grown used to. "Call the police, get Trace and Victor. And Uri and Will," she added as an afterthought.

"I'll do it upstairs," Saul said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "Get Xav to look at your forehead."

00oo00oo00

"Saul?" Karla said tentatively as she stood in the doorway to his study. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying, but she had changed out of her dirty, bloody clothes, wearing faded black leggings and one of Saul zip-up hoodies over a vest top. Saul was stood behind his desk, appearing to be choosing one of his many books on psychology or forensics housed on his bookshelf. He hadn't changed either; shirt untucked, jeans crumpled and his hair was falling out of his ponytail. He didn't move and that made Karla shiver; Saul never ignored her. She sniffed, brushed her hair behind her ear and took a step into the study. "Saul, please, you're worrying me, you're worrying the children."

There was a tense silence, Karla fidgeted silently and took another step forwards. "Saul?" Karla might not have admitted it out loud but she was scared, more scared than she'd ever been before. Something began to burn inside her and she wanted Saul- no matter how selfish it made her look- to pay attention to her, to comfort her and pet her. She wanted his kisses and gentle caresses and his soothing words. Something snapped. "Saul!" she shrieked and stamped her foot.

Saul's head bolted up, spinning around and looking at Karla with wide eyes; "I need you," she whispered and Saul held open his arms as if he hadn't seen her in years. Karla sighed in relief and stumbled into them, hugging her husband so forcefully they fell back against the bookshelf and slid to the wooden floor. They kissed every so often, gentle kisses, comforting ones when the desire came, the couple alternating between Karla running her fingers across his chest and Saul plaiting and twisting her hair. It seemed to them that they had been sat there for five minutes when the sky grew dark and the only thing they could see was the faint light from downstairs.

Karla was half asleep, the stress and worry having tired her out. She sleepily raised her head and rubbed her husband's chest. "Saul," she murmured and in response he kissed the top of her head. "Saul, Anya, what should we-"

"We've got the police involved, darling, they're handling it at the moment, and Trace will make sure it's their number one priority." Saul's stomach rumbled as he spoke; Karla patted his stomach and made to get up, but Saul pulled her down again. "The FBI will be here soon, I just want to spend time with you for a minute" He looked at her questioningly and she smiled.

"My head is fine; he just hit me with a rock or whatever."

"A rock?" Saul exclaimed, holding her back to get a proper look at her. "Who?"

"One of my students…Drake something? It'll probably be on the records."

"Oh," Saul sounded disappointed and Karla cupped his cheek. "Now Saul, I've enough to deal with, without you getting arrested for beating up minors."

Saul laughed. They sat curled around each other in silence for a moment. Then Saul shifted and Karla looked up and something magnetic between began to pull them together. Karla held in a giggle; she would not ruin the moment by acting like a teenager. Saul trailed a finger across her cheek, before hooking it under her chin and pulling her lips up to his. They kissed almost forcibly, pushing and pulling at each other to remind the other that they were there. The doorbell rang downstairs, making the couple jump and spring out of their reverie.

"That was fast," Karla murmured, her lips inches from his.

"Quite." Saul agreed. Karla stood and held out a hand to help him up.

Downstairs, all their sons were stood in the kitchen, Victor in the lead, accompanied by two other FBI agents.

"That's too fast for my liking." Karla whispered, and Saul nodded, taking her hand firmly in his and squeezed it.

"Karla Benedict?" One agent said. Karla looked up at Saul, who shrugged, although his grip tightened on her hand.

"Yes," she said quietly and Victor frowned uneasily.

"Well, ma'am, you're under arrest."