NOTES: Lyrics are from "The First Time I Loved Forever," the theme song from BATB, lyrics and music by Melanie, and Lee Holdridge, sung by Lisa Angelle.
For all my life and forever
There's a truth I will always know
When my world divides and shatters
Your love is where I'll go . . .
Joe Maxwell hurried through the park, glancing nervously from side to side, keeping a wary eye on the shadows around them. "This is crazy!," he muttered to the woman keeping pace with him. "Diana, this is not a good place to be at this time of night."
Diana shrugged. "You wanted a meeting with Vincent. Well, this is the time, and" - she nodded toward a large metal structure looming ahead of them - "this is the place."
Joe frowned as they neared their goal. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks, staring at the large object. "That's the carousel!" He whipped around to face Diana, his voice hard and tight. "The carousel where Moreno was killed." His eyes bored into Diana's, hard as rocks. "What's going on, Bennett? Is this a set-up after all?"
Diana's eyes flashed, but before she could reply -
"No, Mr. Maxwell, you are quite safe, I assure you."
Joe started; the voice came from a dark form limping from out of the central shadows of the carousel platform. He frowned. Both the voice and the figure seemed familiar. Diana was already stepping up onto the carousel floor. Joe hesitated then followed warily behind.
He mounted the platform and approached the stocky figure. In the dim moonlight the man's features were indistinct, but Joe saw enough to make him nod in recognition. "Mr. . . Wells, isn't it? Why am I not surprised to find you here?" he asked rhetorically. "I thought you told me your name was . . ." He searched his memory. "Jacob."
"It is," the elderly man replied simply. "Vincent is my son." He turned slightly and Joe became aware of a huge black form standing back in the shadows, regarding him silently. A chill trickled down his back and involuntarily he shivered as the person approached. There was something . . . uncanny . . . about that hooded, cloaked figure; it moved with a grace at once powerful and lithe that put Joe in mind of the lions and panthers at the zoo. There was an aura of power about this man that was all the more intense for not being overtly displayed.
The tall form stopped several feet away. Joe took a step forward and peered into the shadow of the hood, trying to distinguish the features it hid so well. He was wishing he could approach even closer, and wondered why he didn't.
"You're Vincent?" he asked, though he knew the answer, had known it as soon as he caught sight of the tall shadow. The shrouded head nodded slowly in acquiescence. Oh great! A modern-day version of the Ghost of Christmas Future! thought Joe, with exasperation. At that slight movement of Vincent's a stray beam of moonlight caught the gleam of topaz-blue eyes and a suggestion of long, tawny hair flowing down the broad chest.
"Did Diana tell you why I wanted to see you?" Again, Joe was certain of the answer.
"She told me," came the reply. "Where is Catherine?"
Joe caught his breath at the sound of Vincent's low, husky baritone. Seductive as hell. No wonder Cathy - and Diana - were enthralled by this guy. That voice . . . the romantic hood and cloak, the air of mystery . . . He's probably got the women falling like ninepins, Joe thought sourly. Then he pulled himself short.
No, he knew Cathy better than that. She wouldn't be taken in by some bozo, however dramatic. Whatever Vincent was, he was also the man Cathy loved. Joe knew she had protected Vincent and his secrets many times, and if Diana were to be believed Vincent had saved Cathy's life more than once. Thinking back on some of Catherine Chandler's mysterious escapes from death, and eyeing the powerful man in front of him, Joe had no trouble no in believing that one.
His thoughts were broken by the sound of Vincent's voice. "Please tell me where Catherine is, Mr. Maxwell. I must go to her at once - tonight."
From the corner of his eye Joe saw the sharp movement of Diana's head, at the same time that Jacob Wells cried out, "Vincent, what are you saying?"
Vincent turned to the older man. "Father, there is no time to argue with you. Catherine is failing. Our bond has returned and I can sense her again. She has fought a long, hard battle to remain alive and to reach me, but now her strength is fading. She cannot maintain it much longer. Every hour counts. Wherever she is, whatever the danger to me - whatever I must do, I will do, for Catherine!"
Joe wouldn't have believed that soft voice could carry such steely determination. He listened in growing confusion. What the hell was going on here? He glanced at Diana for help, only to see her watching Vincent with an indecipherable look on her face.
Vincent turned once again toward Joe, still careful to keep his face hidden. "Mr. Maxwell - Joe - Catherine and I have a . . . connection . . . a bond. I don't know how to explain it to you. I can feel what she's feeling, and right now she's holding onto life with every shred of her being. You have always been a good friend to Catherine; I know you want to help her. Please, take me to her!" His voice was urgent, pleading.
"Joe." Diana faced him, meeting his gaze calmly, her blue eyes steady on his. "Believe him."
Joe set his jaw firmly, his mind awhirl with a thousand questions. He shot a glance at Diana that promised trouble if answers were not forthcoming later. Good answers! "Let's go." He started back the way they had come, but stopped when Diana called his name.
"Joe. Bring your car here, as close to the carousel as you can. We'll wait for you."
After a moment Joe nodded and continued on his way.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Please, don't let this feeling end
It's everything I am, everything I want to be
I can see what's mine now, finding out what's true
Since I found you,
Looking through the eyes of love . . .
(Marvin Hamlisch & Carole Bayer Sager)
"Here we are!" Joe announced, neatly sliding the car into a parking slot. The lot was all but empty, only a few cars huddled together under a security light. "I phoned from the car before I picked you up, so they're expecting us." He looked at the man sitting silently beside him. Vincent bent his head lower, presenting only the sides of the hood to Joe's sight.
"You were right," Joe said abruptly. "The doctor told me Cathy's vital signs have started to weaken. They've got her stabilized for the moment, but . . ." His voice trailed off.
Vincent merely nodded. "Yes." He sat there, making no move to get out. Joe gave a mental shrug and opened his door, noticing Vincent's head turn slightly toward him, as if watching his actions.
Vincent studied the side of the passenger door, finding the small, recessed handle that was twin to the one Joe had used to open his. Gingerly he pulled on it, heaving a silent sigh of relief as the door opened. He maneuvered his large frame out of the low bucket seat, not without some difficulty, and walked around the car to where Joe was waiting, careful to maintain his distance from the piercing and curious gaze of that intense young man. Diana was assisting Father from out of the back seat; another moment and both had joined them.
Joe led the way. Just outside the entrance to the building he stopped. "I forgot to tell you. For her protection Cathy was admitted under an assumed name: Kate Warden."
Inside they were met by a man and a woman in blue lab coats. "Dr. Foster, Dr. Waugh, this is - " About to introduce Vincent, Joe was interrupted.
Father stepped forward, hand extended. "Dr. Jacob Wells." He shook hands with the two doctors. "And this is Diana Bennett of the NYPD." Diana nodded. The doctors looked inquiringly at the large, strangely garbed man standing behind the others, his face shielded from view. They exchanged worried, perplexed glances.
"My name is Vincent." Vincent spoke quietly, hoping to reassure them. He was ill at ease in this (to him) brightly lit room, wishing for the soft, comforting glow of candlelight. His bond with Catherine tugged at him insistently, and he was impatient with these formalities.
"How is she?" asked Joe, hoping to regain control of the situation.
"As I told you on the phone, Mr. Maxwell, her condition is stable, for the time being." It was Dr. Waugh who replied. He passed a large hand through thinning gray-flecked hair; his brown eyes were serious beneath heavy gray eyebrows.
"Mr. Maxwell - all of you," his gaze swept over them, lingering curiously on Vincent, "you must know that what you are trying to do here tonight is impossible. I can't in good conscience let you try this - this experiment - without making sure you understand that."
The slender woman next to him now spoke up. "Even if somehow a miracle does happen and Ms. Warden should come out of the coma, there still remains a strong probability of brain damage. We just don't know enough of what happened to her during those months she was missing. She may have been kept in a drugged condition all that time; there were a number of needle marks on her arms. We have no way of knowing what her mental and physical condition was before she lapsed into the coma. If the morphine was given on top of other drugs - " Dr. Foster shrugged. Her expression as she looked at Vincent was sober, her warm gray eyes compassionate and more than a little curious.
"She was not drugged, except for the morphine. She was exhausted from her . . . labor . . . but her mind was clear." Vincent's voice was laced with pain.
"And just how do you know that?" Joe asked slowly, his ready suspicions springing back to sudden life. He raised his head, dark eyes narrowed challengingly.
"I was with her, at the end. She found me only moments before the morphine took effect. I - thought she was dead." Vincent's voice was tight, choked with remembered anguish.
Joe watched the large, gloved hands clench tightly, saw the almost imperceptible trembling of his massive frame. Before he could reply to this statement, Jacob Wells stepped forward.
"Doctors, I understand your concern," he said. Joe noticed again the faintest trace of a British accent. He continued, "You do not wish to raise our hopes. You believe that this attempt is a foolish, romantic dream, doomed to failure. And I am well aware that medical logic is all on your side. But there is a truth beyond logic. I have learned that miracles do happen, especially where Vincent is concerned."
He glanced at the silent figure beside him. "And most especially where Ca - Kate and Vincent together are concerned. Together, they continually defy all boundaries, transcend all limits. They always have." A wry smile crossed his face.
Vincent suddenly turned his head toward the left-hand corridor, experiencing an abrupt slackening in the pull of the bond - a sense of weakness.
"Catherine!" He started down the hall, was yards away before the others recovered from their surprise. Joe sprinted after him, catching up just as Vincent turned into an intersecting corridor on the right and stopped in his tracks. Facing them were two armed police officers, revolvers at the ready, in shooting stance.
"It's all right!" Joe called out. "Martinez! Young! It's okay, let him in." Slowly the officers holstered their weapons, stepping away from the door they'd been guarding, and allowed Vincent and Joe to enter. Father and Diana were fast on their heels, followed closely by the two doctors.
A third officer was on duty at the bedside, but Vincent had eyes only for
the still, sheeted woman lying before him. He was vaguely aware of Joe telling
the officers to leave the room, of Father and Diana coming up beside him. The
sight of
Catherine's
face, pale and drawn but alive, struck him like a blow. He couldn't move.
Father moved closer to the bed and stood for a long moment, looking down at Catherine's unconscious face. Shaken by a wave of emotions he leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead, touching her hair with a shaking hand.
"Catherine, my dear Catherine . . . come back to us. Please." He turned and touched Vincent on the arm, then left the room, clearing his throat and fumbling in his pocket for a handkerchief as he went.
Diana glanced at Vincent, then reached for the chair. "Here, Vincent," she said, tugging at his arm. Never removing his eyes from Catherine's face, Vincent sat. Diana turned to Joe, deliberately moving to shield Vincent's face from him as Joe walked to the head of the bed.
"Joe, turn off the camera."
Joe eyed her briefly. He looked at Cathy and then at the hooded bulk of Vincent, watching as he reached out with one gloved hand and shakily touched Cathy's cheek. Joe set his jaw tightly, fighting back a wave of jealousy yet oddly touched by the immense tenderness of the gesture.
"Catherine." Vincent's voice was choked, trembling. Joe glanced at the hidden surveillance camera, then nodded silently to Diana.
Diana watched him exit the room, then turned to the bed and gazed at the young woman lying there, contrasting the white, wasted figure with the laughing, vibrant person she had viewed in so many photographs.
Catherine Chandler, do you know how lucky you are? You have an opportunity most people could never dream of. Don't waste it.
"Please leave us," she requested of the two doctors. The doctors exchanged looks then made a fast check of the monitoring equipment, and consulted briefly before leaving the room, with obvious reluctance. Diana waited until they had gone then placed a hand on the padded shoulder of Vincent's cloak.
"You're alone, Vincent. No one is here but the two of you. Good luck. We'll be praying for you - for both of you." For a moment her hand hovered above Vincent's oblivious head. Then, biting her lip, Diana lowered her hand to her side and she too left.
Alone now in the dimly lit room, Vincent pushed the concealing hood away from his face, let it fall to his shoulders. He then undid the clasp of his cloak and shrugged out of the heavy garment. This room was far warmer than any he was accustomed to Below, and he was feeling the heat.
He turned back to Catherine.
* * * * *
Joe opened the door to the surveillance room and entered quietly. "Greg,"
he greeted the man sitting at the table. "How about if you take a break
now? I'll take over here."
Greg Hughs shot him a quizzical glance, not moving from the chair. "What's going on, Joe? Who are all those people?" He indicated the monitor beside him, where Diana was requesting the doctors to leave the room.
"Friends of Cathy's," Joe said shortly. "Please, Greg, take a break. A long one. I'll fill you in later."
Greg raised a skeptical eyebrow then shrugged and got to his feet. "Sure, Joe. Whatever you say." Grabbing his coffee mug he headed out.
Joe settled down into the chair, watching the monitor with grim determination. Sorry, Bennett, but I'm tired of being in the dark about Cathy. I want to know what's going on. What's the big mystery about Vincent?
He watched as Diana also walked out of the room and Vincent was left there alone with Cathy. Then Vincent threw back his hood and removed the cloak. Joe's eyes widened.
"What the - !" he exclaimed out loud. He's wearing a damn mask! What IS it with this guy? Who is he, the Pope or something? Why all this damned secrecy?? Joe sat fuming, watching as Vincent moved to the side of the bed and sat down next to Cathy, ignoring the chair. Vincent removed his black gloves, and at the sight of the large, furred hands Joe sat up and leaned forward.
He's got on a second set of gloves or . .. or something. Looks like he's made up for Halloween! He stared intently at the screen as Vincent gathered Cathy into his arms and brushed the hair back from her face. He frowned, studying the long, clawed fingers, noting the color and texture of the hair covering them. He pressed a button and the camera zoomed in for a closer view.
I thought you'd
be here." Unnoticed, Diana had entered and was standing behind him. Her
eyes were also intent on the monitor. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist
sneaking a look at the man Catherine loves."
"Is he? A man, I mean?" Joe kept his eyes on the sight of Vincent holding Cathy close against him. "Diana, I've never seen anything like him. What is he? How could Cathy - " His voice trailed off. He stared, still disbelieving, at the screen.
"How could Cathy be in love with someone like that?" Diana finished the sentence. "Joe, Cathy loves Vincent because of what he is - and who he is."
Joe looked up at her, uncomprehending. A new thought struck him and his eyes grew even wider. "Cathy's baby - it was his?" At Diana's nod he sank back in his chair, shaken by this further evidence of the relationship Cathy had shared with this - being.
Diana sighed and rested one slim hip on the table. "Let me tell you their story. You remember that a few years ago Cathy was mugged and went missing for ten days?" Joe nodded.
"Vincent was the one who found her that night, in the Park where her assailants had dumped her like so much trash. He took her to his home, where he and his father treated her injuries and cared for her until she was strong enough to leave. And during those days something happened, Joe - they fell in love, totally, deeply, irrevocably.
"Vincent has empathic abilities, is able to sense what others are feeling, but with Cathy it was much more than that. He literally felt whatever Cathy was feeling. Even more, when danger threatened her he was able to locate her whereabouts by using their bond. You remember those three men who were found dead in the house where Carol Stabler was killed?"
Joe nodded again. "I remember. They'd been ripped apart, attacked by a wild animal, the coroner said. Was that - him?" Joe's eyes slid back to the monitor, looking with unwilling fascination at the sharp claws on Vincent's hands - those hands which now so tenderly cradled Cathy against him.
"Yes," Diana confirmed. "They had trapped Cathy in the house when she came to check on Carol. Vincent sensed her danger, felt her anger and her fear. He reached the building just in time to save her life."
"Just in time to kill three men, you mean!" Joe interrupted harshly. "With his bare hands, Diana! With his claws!"
Diana's level gaze never wavered. "If he hadn't, Cathy would have been killed instead. Would you prefer that had happened?" Joe sank back in silence, angry and confused.
"Joe, Vincent has saved Cathy's life many times. Their relationship surpasses anything I've ever heard of. Most of us can only dream of knowing a love like theirs. I don't know what Vincent is; I only know he is the best, the most human being I have ever met." Her voice was quiet as she unknowingly echoed words Catherine herself had spoken long ago. Her eyes moved back to the screen so she missed Joe's incredulous stare.
My God, not Diana too! He knew that she'd been protecting Vincent almost from the beginning, but this - but there had been a certain tone in her voice, a softening of that usually remote expression that were unmistakable. Joe turned again to stare at the motionless figures in the monitor.
First Cathy - now Diana. Two of the most level-headed people I know. He eyed Vincent's image glumly. I don't know what it is you've got, fella, but I sure wish I had some of it.
He drew in a deep, slow breath. "All right, Bennett. I don't know just how much of this story I really accept, but for now at least I'll keep it under my hat." Joe shook his head, laughed shortly. "I don't know who'd believe me anyhow!"
Diana breathed a huge mental sigh of relief and relaxed for the first time since entering the room. She hadn't been sure what Joe's reactions would be when he saw Vincent for the first time, and was thankful that for now at least he seemed to be accepting the situation. She only hoped that Vincent - and Catherine, of course - would understand that she'd really had no choice but to trust Joe.
Then she winced at a sudden thought. Not to mention Father! Well, she'd wait to cross that bridge when she came to it. "I think we better rejoin the others before they come looking for us." Diana took a step toward the door, then stopped and tensed as Joe reached up and removed the tape from the camera.
He opened the door and locked it securely behind them. "I'll go tell Greg to grab a bite to eat and check back with me in an hour." Joe eyed the cassette in his hand, looked at Diana's tense expression, then without a word handed it to her. Together they walked down the corridor toward the main lobby, where the others were waiting.