Should he tell her truth? Should he frighten her further? The nightmare she'd had proved that something in him caused her terror. The thought of bringing her pain broke his heart. He shouldn't have come ... but how could he stay away?
"Vincent?" Her soft voice brought him out of his reverie.
He breathed deeply, accepting the unavoidable.
"Catherine, since our meeting a bond has grown between us. I feel what you feel, when you're happy, sad, troubled..."
"Or have a nightmare." She looked thoughtful, trying to comprehend his assertion. "You know what I'm thinking?"
"No," he assured her. "Just feelings. Empathy rather than telepathy, although sometimes it's almost as intense. I've always had this ability to a minor degree with those closest to me, but this is much stronger and seems unaffected by distance."
He gave her an apologetic look. "I don't know if I can, but I can try to break this connection if you wish."
She thought about what he'd said, the consequences of what it might entail. How did she feel about it? She couldn't imagine coping with someone else's emotions, dealing with her own was bad enough. But to be that connected to someone might also be wonderful ... if it were the right someone.
She gazed at his uniquely-featured face, a face that had been haunting her thoughts, both awake and sleeping, since their meeting a month ago. Her mind wandered back to that time.
Since childhood, Central Park had been a place of comfort; a spot for calm and introspection. That day had started no differently. Leaving her office at Chandler, Mallen, and Associates early (a common occurrence lately) she strolled the pathways of the green expanse, pondering her life and future.
She'd never really wanted to be an attorney, a path assumed by her father and dutifully followed, but during law school she found an aptitude, if not a passion, for jurisprudence. What little enthusiasm she felt for her profession wasn't being fulfilled in the world of corporate law. She wanted to help people; she wanted to right wrongs. She supposed TV cop and lawyer shows, not to mention Wonder Woman, contributed to her aspirations.
Her father had friends in criminal law, any one of whom would offer her a position in a high-powered firm, but the thought of keeping people out of jail because they had money or influence, guilty or not, rubbed her the wrong way.
She'd hinted at her unrest to Tom Gunther, hoping for understanding and support, to be disappointed once again. His solution was to marry him and get out of the work rat-race all together, channeling her energies into being his hostess and promoting his career.
She strolled for hours in contemplation. As darkness fell a sound broke her concentration, and she found she'd wandered into an isolated, wooded area of the park. Turning to retrace her steps, she found herself facing a trio of dangerous looking young men, probably gang members, definitely high.
She tried to ignore their taunts and return to the populated areas but failed. Her fear rose as dirty hands began to paw at her clothes, groping her body. She lashed out and tried to run, but her attempt at escape only fueled the anger in the men, and she found herself on the ground, rocks and twigs digging into her back as the leader of the trio pinned her with his weight.
His friends came to his aid, holding her arms above her head.
"Hey, pretty momma. What's your hurry? We just wanna have a little fun. Don't you wanna have some fun?"
Catherine whimpered as the knife he held slid up the placket of her blouse, snipping the buttons in its way. Rape, murder, mutilation -- panicked thoughts of his intent paralyzed her.
A low growling sound filtered into her brain, and she wondered if someone with a dog might be near. She screamed for help, earning a slap across her cheek from the leader. The growl became a roar as the punk with the knife was pulled from her body and flung through the air where he collapsed in a heap at the base of a tree. The other two began to run; one making a clean escape but the other soon unconscious on the grassy slope.
The large man in the dark cape knelt beside her, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, thanks to you." Her voice trembled as she clutched the edges of her blouse together. "How can I thank you?"
"There is no need." His head cocked to the side. "Someone is coming on horseback. You'll be safe now." He turned to go.
"Wait! Who are you? What's your name?"
Her hand snaked out to grab his cloak as he paused, accidentally pulling the hood from his head. She gasped as his features were revealed.
"My name is Vincent. Please don't be afraid. I won't harm you."
She looked into his eyes, drowning in the deepest soul she'd ever encountered.
"I'm not afraid." Despite what she'd seen, despite the bodies littering the ground, she knew intuitively that this remarkable being would never harm her, and she spoke the truth.
"Will I see you again?" On his answer hinged everything.
An incredulous look crossed his face before he answered. "Yes."
She turned as the sound of hooves grew louder, and when she turned back Vincent had melted into the darkness.
Catherine had spent the next several hours with the police -- giving a statement, identifying the two attackers, looking through mug books for the third assailant, and convincing the detectives that she had no idea of her savior's identity.
The incident changed her life. Being in the police station and working with the representative from the District Attorney's office, showed her a side of the law she wanted to be a part of. Helping people, putting criminals in jail, being one of the good guys -- these were ideals that appealed to her.
She left the uptown world of corporate law and entered the gritty real world of the DA's office. She was at the bottom of the ladder, doing grunt work, but felt productive.
Her father was disappointed but supportive. Tom, on the other hand, couldn't understand or accept her decision. An entry-level lawyer in public service didn't fit with his grandiose plans, and each successive date was filled with resentful contempt. That problem was eliminated last weekend when, with a sense of relief rather than sadness, she broke their engagement.
With every change, every step forward, she thought of Vincent and wished she could tell him, somehow knowing he would approve. He filled her thoughts and gave her strength. She knew nothing of him: his life, his family, even where he lived, but he was the most important person in her life.
He said they'd meet again, but not how or where. She even went to Central Park at night hoping to see him, but to no avail. And now, here he was.
His hand trembled in hers. She felt his trepidation. Perhaps the bond worked both ways. That thought delighted her.
Vincent waited, unsure of Catherine's response to his information. Anyone would greet this news with horror, to have someone like him so intimately connected, but to this beautiful topsider it must be doubly abhorrent. He tried to follow her feelings but they were too jumbled, too chaotic. But at no time did he feel horror.
Catherine lightly squeezed his hand again.
"No, don't try to break the connection." The simple, softly spoken statement caused Vincent's heart to soar.
"But your nightmare, your fear of me."
"Oh, no. I wasn't afraid of you. You've been my strength these past weeks ... I've been hoping to see you. Won't you come inside so we can talk?"
His uneasy gaze spoke volumes. "Or we can sit here on the terrace, it's a lovely night," she offered.
And so they sat, side by side, on the padded chaise and talked.
She told him of her dream. In it he'd been taken away from her, causing the terror he felt. She smiled coquettishly at him.
"So you see, it was your absence, rather than your presence that caused my dismay."
He shook his head in disbelief, totally captivated by her smile.
Catherine then told him how the incident in the park was a catalyst in her life; the changes she'd made professionally and personally.
"It's funny, but each time I made a decision, took a step toward my new goal, I felt you with me, giving me strength. Do you think this bond might work both ways?"
"Perhaps. But the courage is within you, Catherine. I felt it that night in the park."
"I didn't feel courageous."
"But you didn't give up ... that's a sign of courage."
When her story was finished, Catherine asked Vincent about him. He told her of his life, the world Below, and his friends. Father would have a fit when he found out, but Vincent knew she would never betray his trust.
It was nearly dawn when he made his leave, promising to visit again.
Catherine stood at
the parapet as the pink and gold light of morning crept over the horizon
and looked out over the park. His absence was almost an ache.
Never in her life had she felt like this, a sense of rightness filling
her, and a warmth enclosing her heart. They would need to go slowly,
with care. There were obvious obstacles to overcome, concessions to make.
They were something that had never been. But she knew, deep in her
being, that Vincent was her soulmate. They were fated to be together,
and they would endure.