Moonlight: Darkness

Chapter 4

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Author's note: Love the end song, it was a new find & gave me the title for this chapter, which I think is very appropriate…

Intro song: Danger, Eric Clapton & JJ Cale

"Beth, you have a minute?"

"What?! Oh, yes, sorry, you startled me."

Beth gritted her teeth and reminded herself for the thousandth time since her return to work to be polite to her boss. It was becoming increasingly hard to do so. Vampires or no vampires, she didn't know how much longer she could continue this charade.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Ben studied her face for a moment, his arms crossed. Her tension at his appearance was obvious, even to him. Leaning back against the wall of her cubicle, he said, "Look, we haven't really talked since you've come back to work. Obviously, something is bothering you." He paused, his dark brows knitting together. "You don't blame me for what happened to Mick, do you?!"

"No, Ben," Beth lied. Youprick, you sent him there. You used me to blackmail him into going!

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know, Ben. I can't answer that for you. I have a lot on my mind right now. Mick, as you may recall..." She caught the edge in her voice and paused. Calm down, Beth, Keep it together. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be short with you.. Mick is still convalescing and I'm worried about him when I'm here. When I'm home, I worry about him constantly. Every little sound from him wakes me up at night. I think we are both still recovering from what happened. That's all."

Talbot relented. "I'm sorry, Beth. I truly am. If I could do anything to change what happened, I would. I hope you believe me."

"I do." Maybe.

"Well, I have a favor to ask of you then. I know you want to leave early today, but there's someone I want to introduce you to first." When the ADA saw his civilian investigator frown, he added, "It will just take a minute and I think you'd enjoy meeting him."

Beth's curiosity got the better of her. "Who is it?"

"Have you heard of Christophe Durand?"

"Nooo. Should I have?"

"How about CHOIR?"

Beth thought fast. Where had she heard that name? Then, she recalled - the charitable organization that Robert Williams, the dead attorney, had worked for. "They do disaster relief, right? In conjunction with FEMA? I read up on them because of the Williams case. You remember - the murder-suicide..."

"That's right." Now it was Talbot's turn to frown. "Interesting coincidence. Anyway, CHOIR does disaster relief and a whole lot more. They basically come into an area - like New Orleans during Katrina - and not only assist with emergency needs but stick around afterward and help rebuild. A step our government doesn't seem to do very well," he added dryly.

"What does that have to do with me?" Beth cursed her own curious nature. Every minute spent talking with Talbot was an excruciating exercise in self-control. Why prolong it by asking questions? You are your own worst enemy sometimes…

"Christophe Durand is the head of CHOIR, a really brilliant man. He and my... uncle... are good friends and I just had lunch with them. We got to talking about what happened in San Diego – no sensitive information of course just what's in the public domain," he hastened to add. "Christophe is concerned about the migrant community and the deaths of children. Anyway, he thinks Mick is a hero and he'd like to meet you - and him."

"Wait a minute. Wasn't he the guy who defended you, talked to the press?" Beth's hands curled into fists, her fingernails biting into her palms, as she recalled the press conference where Durand had stepped forward to support the beleaguered ADA when Talbot was taking heat over having sent a team down to San Diego, well outside his jurisdiction.

The CHOIR head had refocused the media's attention on the original victims - and on the fact that children had been killed. The tide of public opinion had almost immediately turned in Talbot's favor.

It wasn't that Beth had no feelings for the victims - far from it. Still, she'd wanted Ben to pay for the role she felt he'd played in the ambush. Durand's involvement had ensured that this didn't happen. She honestly didn't know how that made her feel about meeting the man.

"Yes, he did. Does that make a difference to you?" Ben's voice held a slight edge that hadn't been there before.

Be careful, Beth. "No. No, of course it doesn't. I'm sorry. It's just that anything related to that...night...sets me on edge. I'd be happy to meet him, Ben."

"Great!" Ben pushed himself away from the cubicle wall. "Let's go then. He's in my office, waiting to see you."

"Right now?!"

"Right now." His tone implied that this was not negotiable.

"Oh, well...okay." With a glance at the clock, Beth got up and followed Talbot to his office.

Her first impression of Christophe Durand was power. Everything about him was imposing - his height, his intense blue gaze, his huge hands, which enveloped hers in a warm clasp. He was intimidating...and charismatic.

"Miss Turner, it is so nice to meet you. Thank you for taking time out of your busy day." Durand's head bent toward the young woman as he peered at her solicitously. "How are you? You must be exhausted after everything that's happened."

"Thank you, Mr. Durand. That's very kind of you to ask. I'm fine."

Christophe immediately caught the inference. His keen eyes noted the circles under her eyes, the lines of worry on her face. "I certainly recognize that your- that Mr. St. John - is the one who was injured. But, my experience in working with people in the aftermath of unfortunate events, has taught me that often it is the uninjured parties, those that must act as caregivers, who experience some of the greatest stress. You have to be tired after all this."

Beth Turner was an attractive young woman and he was immediately drawn to her. What a shame that she had thrown her lot in with these monsters, even, if his sources were to be believed, slept with this vampire... Durand's stomach churned. With effort, he brought himself back to the present, quickly releasing her hands. He'd had to force himself to touch her, knowing who she spent her time with. The contact made his skin crawl.

The unexpected concern touched Beth, hot tears springing to her eyes. She tried - and failed - to respond.

"Take your time, my dear."

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, swiping at her eyes with one hand. "I don't know what came over me."

"I do." Durand's soft voice conveyed concern. Ben Talbot is an ass. If the ADA really wanted to be viewed in a favorable light by this young woman - and his other subordinates - he should have insisted that she stay home, take care of her... He couldn't finish the thought. "Please, sit down." As he led Beth to a chair, he belatedly glanced over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to take over your office. You don't mind, do you, Ben?"

"No. Of course not. Are you all right, Beth?"

The civilian investigator's blond hair gleamed in the overhead light as, head down, she nodded wordlessly

The CHOIR CEO looked up at Talbot. "Ben, would you mind if I had a few minutes alone with Miss Turner?" His gaze on the ADA was hard steel. It wasn't a request.

Talbot flushed. He was clearly being dismissed but he had no choice except to acquiesce gracefully. Edward would have his head if he didn't treat Durand with kid gloves. "Of course. I've got to make a few calls anyway. I'll be back in a few minutes." Blindly, he grabbed a file from his desk and left the two alone.

Beth fought to get her emotions in check, embarrassed by her loss of control. Finally, squaring her shoulders, she lifted her head to meet the blue eyes looking down at her. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Durand. I never do anything like this. I don't know what came over me."

"It's called 'Compassion Fatigue'," the big man's deceptively soft voice said soothingly, as he took a seat beside her. "It is a well-studied fact that one can experience a form of stress disorder from witnessing - or even knowing about - unexpected or violent trauma or injury of a loved one. You can be equally traumatized without being harmed or threatened yourself, Beth, especially when it is something as violent as what I understand happened to your... friend."

"It was... awful." Her voice was a whisper, her eyes looking at a horror only she could see.

After a long pause, Durand added, "There is a cost to caring, my dear." One that you will be paying in full.

You don't know the half of it, Beth thought. "Thank you for being understanding, Mr. Durand."

"I've seen too much of this over my years with CHOIR, I'm afraid. I'm better acquainted with what you are going through than I would like to be." Durand injected just the right note of melancholy into his voice to elicit sympathy.

Beth responded to his tone. "I'm a great admirer of CHOIR and your mission, Mr. Durand. It must give you some comfort to know how much your work impacts others."

"Christophe, please."

"Only if you call me Beth." She smiled for the first time.

"Beth, it is. To answer your question, Beth...it does give me comfort. I must confess, I sleep well most nights, even with all the complexities and challenges of my work." An image of John Giles, torturing the helpless female vampire to death, flitted across his mind and he smiled. "There is a lot of reward in seeing a plan come to fruition. Impedimenta difficilius, tanto guadio."

"Is that Latin?"

"The more difficult the obstacles, the greater the satisfaction," Durand translated. "Forgive me. I'm given to Latin phraseology. Has to do with my upbringing."

He patted his companion on the arm, careful to rest his hand only on her jacket. Just touching her bare hand - a hand that had touched, perhaps caressed, a vampire - had been as much as he could handle. Long practice enabled him to hide his revulsion well, but he had no intention of initiating unneeded physical contact.

It was really too bad. Beth Turner was actually a lovely young woman. Under different circumstances, she might even have made a nice match for Adam...

"Mr. Dura- Christophe?"

He started. "I'm sorry, Beth. My thoughts sometimes wander. There is so much to do and not much time in which to do it."

"What brings you to California? I'm guessing you didn't come just to meet me."

Christophe smiled ingratiatingly. "No, although now that I have, I can see how someone might cross the country just to sit beside you. And, I did want to catch up with Edward. Ben's mentor," he added, seeing her look of puzzlement. "But, I'm afraid now I have meetings here. Fundraising is always a challenge and recruitment for our organization is an ongoing task. The right people are out there, but it is sometimes a difficult task to find them."

"How long will you be staying in California?" Beth found the man intriguing.

"Probably just until the first of the week. I have a lot of pressing work back in New York so I cannot afford to stay away too long." Or John is liable to go out and attack some vamp on the street...

"Well, I'm sure you will be successful. I wish you the best of luck."

"Thank you, my dear. There is no substitute for good planning and good people, and I've worked hard on both. I believe we will succeed." If we are successful, you won't be around to see it... "In the meantime, tell me how Mr. St. John is doing. From what I've been told, he saved Lieutenant Davis's life." His soft voice seemed full of compassion.

Beth gave a brief, cautious accounting of Mick's injuries and recuperation, reminding herself that she didn't really know this man, drawn as she was to him. She concluded with, "He's actually doing much better than expected - enough so that he's getting antsy about staying home." Be careful, Beth, don't say too much, an internal voice warned.

"Always a good sign, even if difficult to deal with sometimes." He forced a smile. "I would love to meet him. I consider him to be a genuine hero; I'd like to be able to thank him for that heroism. Do you think he might be up to a visitor while I'm still here?"

Beth hesitated. She had put off human visitors - Jamie, Marissa and Alison, even Carl - until now, not wanting the complications and stress of having them scrutinizing Mick. But this was different...

Reaching a decision, she announced, "Let me talk to Mick, see how he's feeling. I may be able to arrange something. Is there a number where I could reach you?"

Durand pulled out a business card, scribbled a number on the back, and handed it to Beth. "That is my private cell phone number. Call me day or night. I hope Mr. St. John will prove up to it."

He stood, stretching his towering frame. "Now, I have to get on with less agreeable meetings. It was a pleasure to meet you, Beth. I'm sure our paths will cross again soon."

"Thank you, Mr. Du- Christophe. It was an honor."

The CHOIR leader turned and left the room abruptly, before Beth could stand and extend her hand. She puzzled over that for a moment - it seemed out of place with his behavior during the rest of his visit - then shrugged to herself. He did seem to have a lot on his mind...

Perhaps it would do Mick good to meet Christophe and allow the CHOIR leader to express the same gratitude and appreciation for Mick's efforts that he had expressed to her. She certainly felt better than she had all day. On the other hand, he was a human and all contact with them right now was a risk...

When did you start thinking 'them versus us'? The thought startled her. Where did she belong in this convoluted world? That was a question better left for another day and time.

She got to her feet with a frown. What to do about Christophe Durand's request? It was so hard to know the right thing to do anymore. Well, she could talk to Mick about it when she got home.

Home.

With a quick glance at the clock, she hurried out to pack up her desk. If nothing else, the meeting with Durand had used up the rest of her afternoon. Now, she could finally go home.

To Mick…

End song: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea, Xylo