Chapter 4

"Catherine?"

The lights were out - not surprising, as it was almost 3:00 a.m. But he sensed she was awake, upset.

"Catherine!" He whispered as loudly as he dared, but still she didn't come to the door. Desperate, he reached out and turned the knob, letting himself into the bedroom. Although it was very dark, his sharp eyes picked out her huddled form, sitting up against the headboard. The bed was still made up, and he remembered that it had been Lisa's room since she'd moved in with Catherine. Apparently tonight, in her sadness, Catherine had stolen into the bedroom to gain what comfort she could from the soothing surroundings.

Her head was on her knees, which were drawn up tight to her chest. Vincent approached her, but she didn't look up. Concerned, he knelt beside the bed and placed one hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently, if urgently. "Catherine, please...speak to me."

She raised her head slowly. He knew she could only see a darker shadow in the gloom before her, so he turned to her nightstand, found the matches and lit the small votive candle he saw there. It didn't give off much light, but it was enough.

Her face was tear-streaked, but her eyes were dry, as if she'd cried all her tears and was now only numb from the turmoil within her heart. His own heart contracted painfully at the sight, and at the echoes of her distress which communicated clearly through their Bond. He couldn't discern the reason for her angst, however, which troubled him greatly. Usually, Catherine's heart was an open book to him.

Thinking he knew what the reason might be, he began, "Why didn't you come to find me...to tell me...what Lisa said to you?"

Catherine shook her head. "She believed she was speaking to you. I thought...maybe it was something you...wanted to hear."

His confusion was evident. "She thought you had told me everything, so when she spoke to me tonight, what she said was...disjointed. I let her speak, but...what she said...disturbed me, Catherine. It was not something I wanted to hear."

Catherine shrugged. "I know she planned to lie to you about me, but some of what she said...."

He tilted his head, still puzzled, trying to discern her meaning. "Lisa thought I knew that she had accused you of...not caring for me. Of seeing someone else. But I would have known immediately that such things were lies, Catherine!"

She nodded and gave him a small, tired smile. "I know."

"As for the rest...." He paused and sighed. "She has...created something in her mind which...isn't real, Catherine."

The sudden painful jolt within their Bond told him he had, at last, discovered the true source of her anguish. Tenderly he probed the sore spot. "Did you perhaps...imagine that it could be true?"

Her eyes spoke of her inner torment, feelings she'd managed to mute, to keep from him in their full, overwhelming significance for several long weeks. In a halting, hoarse whisper, she answered him. "You've...spent...so much time together. Lisa comes back Above and...tells me of all the things you do together...the conversations you have with each other. I realized...these are things we've rarely shared. You've never...opened up in such a way...with me. So...when she thought she was speaking to you earlier tonight...and she talked of your closeness...your deepening affection for each other...." She couldn't finish that sentence, but rallied to say what was most important that he understand. "It's all right, Vincent. If...if you and Lisa...if she makes you happy...understands you...in ways I...I can’t...then you must...must be with her. I...I want you to. Your happiness is all that matters to me." Tears welled in her eyes as she finished her brave speech.

He was dumbstruck. How had he let the situation get so out of hand? How had he failed to realize what it might look like to Catherine? He had meant only to extend the hand of friendship, to provide sympathetic companionship to Lisa during what he assumed was a very difficult period in her life. And he’d made himself available at the cost of other, more valued pastimes, because he’d thought to ease the burden of Lisa’s presence on Catherine and his family Below.

Had she only been using him, using his friendship to try to drive a wedge between him and Catherine, to torment Catherine with? He hadn't understood the depths of treachery to which Lisa could descend until this very night, and that knowledge sickened him.

Catherine had to know, she had to understand - there was nothing in his heart for Lisa - not since those long ago years when they were both young and innocently attached. And she had endured all these weeks of growing uncertainty, saying nothing, because she thought it was what he wanted - that he was happier with Lisa than he could be with her. Oh, God!

"Catherine, I can't begin to understand what motivates Lisa. But know this: I do not love her. The time we spent together...you have to understand...after every class, she'd be waiting at the chamber door...she followed me to sentry duty, kept me company as I watched.... It wasn't that I was spending time with her so much as...Lisa finding ways to spend time with me...asking endless questions. I never considered how it must seem...that you might be hurt...or worse, come to such a conclusion..." He shuddered, the pain overwhelming him...for her. Suddenly, nothing he could say could express how badly he felt for having been so blind where Lisa was concerned. "I'm so sorry. Please, please, Catherine. Please." He reached for her, enclosing her in a fierce embrace, raining trembling kisses on her soft hair as he murmured incoherent apologies.

She sobbed against his chest, relief coursing through her, the tension of weeks dissipating in the warmth of his strong arms enfolding her, chasing the demons away. She lifted her head to tell him she didn’t need apologies, only the pure, sweet knowledge of his love to sustain her. Her lips quivered and he watched them, transfixed. She would have begun to speak, but something within him broke and scattered, some restraint long held collapsed under the weight of his desire to reassure her - and he captured her lips with his, sinking deeply into her love as he pressed his fervent promise upon her mouth.

The kiss went on and on, at times sweetly gentle, at times desperately urgent, but always full of the passionate intensity which spilled from their Bond into this intimate declaration of their love.

The sound of a key turning in the lock of Catherine's apartment door startled them, and they both turned as the bedroom doors flew open and Lisa stood there, her hands on her hips, regarding them both with disdain.

"If you don't mind, I'd like my bed back, please. If you're done with it," she added, sarcastically.

Reluctantly, Vincent rose from the bedside and began to move toward the balcony doors, back to the cold night, away from Catherine. But she stopped him, her outstretched hand capturing his sleeve when he would have left without another word. "Wait," she begged. She rose and brushed the tears from her face. "You can have your bed back, Lisa," she replied to the woman facing her. Then she accompanied Vincent out the doors, closing them firmly behind her, shutting Lisa out more than in.

June 18

"Come Below," he urged her.

They were on her balcony late one night, whispering together. Unable to spend much time with each other since the disastrous first weeks of Lisa's stay, when she had plotted to replace Catherine in Vincent's affections, they both felt the need to touch, to be close.

The sentries had been asked not to respond to Lisa's requests for help to come Below when she was without Catherine, knowing this would effectively prevent her from navigating the treacherous pathways unaccompanied. The sentries were told only that Catherine needed to be with her in case of an emergency, since she was the only one who had power of attorney to handle her medical affairs Above, which was true enough, even if it was not the main reason for the request. But the unintended result was that now Lisa stuck like glue to the overworked woman whenever Catherine was home and especially when Lisa could wheedle Catherine into bringing her Below. Between Catherine's brutal work schedule and Lisa's insistence on constantly hovering at her elbow, even Catherine and Vincent’s brief, late-night meetings had gotten rare, harder to arrange...and almost impossible to hide from a now hyper-vigilant Lisa. They missed each other terribly, missed their times alone together, their quiet, unhurried moments.

"I can't," she replied, genuinely regretful. "Lisa wants to know where I'm going whenever I leave, unless it's to work in the morning. She'd demand to come Below with me."

"Come after work then. Before you return to your apartment." The urgency in his voice moved her. God, but she wanted some time alone with him.

"Alright. Tomorrow? It's Friday and Joe will likely let me leave on time for once." She smiled. "I could meet you at the threshold. Maybe...maybe we could just stay there? Instead of going to the Hub? If someone saw me, then said something to Lisa the next time we went Below together...."

He nodded, understanding. "Tomorrow, Catherine. At your threshold. I'll be waiting." He embraced her, lingering as long as he dared within her arms. He breathed in the sweet scent of her, taking it deeply, gratefully into his lungs.

How he missed the time they used to have together. He remembered the reckless kiss they'd shared when Lisa's plotting had only succeeded in causing pain for Catherine - that too-brief moment of total communion had caused a tidal shift in Vincent's ability to resist temptation where Catherine was concerned. Now he sought out the moments of closeness, of touch, of tenderness - moments he might have shied from before were snatched eagerly, remembered joyfully. But since that change within him, they were rarely alone, either Above or Below, and such moments were more rare now than ever before. It was almost enough to drive the roar of frustration that was bottled up tightly in his chest free to flow up from his throat and out into the still night air.

"Tomorrow," she promised.

His arms felt so empty when he left her.

As she walked into the lobby of her apartment building, she was surprised to see Lisa sitting in an armchair, reading a magazine. Her heart fell. How could she meet Vincent Below now? Lisa had already seen her.

"Catherine!" Lisa always was friendly to her when she had an audience. Sam, the doorman, was holding the door for her, and Sarah, who manned the desk, looked up as she walked in. To anyone watching, they appeared to be best friends. "Lisa, what are you doing down here?" They had made a bargain - Catherine would pay for anything Lisa wanted, but Lisa had to stay in the apartment unless she was going to a doctor’s appointment, to minimize the possibility that she might be seen and recognized. Why would Lisa decide to ignore that directive, especially when her own self-interest was involved?

"I was waiting for you," she responded with a bright smile. Then, in a lower tone, she added curtly, "I want to go Below."

Catherine thought of Vincent, waiting even now just a few yards below her. So close. So tantalizingly close. "Can it wait for a while?" she asked.

"Why?" Suspicion darkened Lisa's eyes.

"I came home early to get a run in," Catherine lied, desperate to think of something Lisa couldn't join her in. "I haven't gotten much exercise lately, and it's such a lovely day."

"But I want to go Below," Lisa repeated, querulous. "Can't you run later?"

Catherine wondered whether Lisa had overheard the whispered conversation of the night before. She'd never waited for her in the lobby before.

Catherine decided to brazen it out. "No, I can't. Later it won't be safe to run in the park. I won't be long."

Pushing the elevator button, Catherine stood expectantly, waiting for the doors to open. Lisa rose and joined her.

"I guess," she said, still suspicious.

Catherine had changed and stretched, then left the apartment and headed immediately out to the park. She had no doubt that Lisa was watching for her to cross the street, so she couldn't take the chance of entering the tunnels via her basement. Instead, she loped through the park, hoping against hope that the area around the drainage tunnel would be deserted and she could enter there. Luck was with her, and she jogged into the access tunnel in the park unseen. Vincent was waiting at the steel door when she arrived.

Panting from her run, she bent forward, hands on knees, and gasped out a breathless "Sorry."

"Change of plans?"

"Lisa. She was waiting for me in the lobby." Her breathing calmer, Catherine rose from her crouch and ran her fingers through her disordered locks, trying to tame them. "She wants me to take her Below."

Vincent leaned against the tunnel wall, shaking his head. "She seems to anticipate us."

"I'm sorry. I can't stay long. I promised her I would only take a short run."

Vincent nodded. They stared at one another in silence for a heartbeat, then melted into each other's arms. Vincent gathered her close, holding her against his heart. She burrowed deeply into his embrace, desperate for the feel of his solid strength, his warmth. They stood quietly for a long moment, just holding each other.

"Someday soon she will be too heavy to safely descend the ladder at your threshold, Catherine."

"I know. That means it may be a while until I can come Below again for a long visit."

He gazed deeply into her eyes, eagerly drinking in her nearness. She was so precious to him. In the past few months, he had come to realize just how much he needed this closeness to her. They had resorted to sending notes, happily passed between them by Bennie as part of his regular bike messenger runs. Those missives were precious, briefly filling the emptiness. When he read them, Vincent felt more deeply in tune with Catherine’s essence, their Bond intensifying the loving words until the feather touch of her emotions trembled from her heart to his. But they were not enough...not nearly enough. More than her mere ethereal presence within his heart, he yearned for her physical presence, her own dear self within arm's reach. He missed the scent of her, the look in her eyes when she first saw him, the sound of her voice as she murmured his name. He missed all of her... everything.

"Let her wait," he said. And before he quite knew what he intended to do, he lowered his head to hers and took her lips.

The kiss was warm and soft, with just a hint of desperation to sweeten it. Catherine melted into it, wanting it never to end. Ah, the taste of him! She loved it, loved the velvety stubble rubbing softly against her upper lip, the hard tips of his canines which protruded sightly as he pressed his mouth onto hers, the moist, tender flesh of his full lower lip as it trembled against her own. God...oh, God....

When he broke that tender contact, she nearly cried out in protest.

Vincent was stunned by what he'd done, the advantage he had taken. That last time, a month ago, he'd wanted to comfort her, reassure her of his love. It had happened so quickly, so spontaneously, and then Lisa had arrived and there'd been no chance to discuss it...to repeat it. But this kiss - he'd wanted it...and he'd taken it. How could he have let his innate desire for her overtake his senses - it was daylight, they were near a tunnel entrance...what had he been thinking?

Catherine rose on her toes and immediately initiated a second kiss, eager to repeat the experience and anxious to erase any worry in his mind that he had overstepped some nonexistent boundary, for she knew him well and realized almost immediately why he’d ended their kiss.

When he felt her mouth on his again, something hard and tight within him loosened. He groaned softly and returned the kiss, nuzzling Catherine's lips, loving the taste of her, drinking in the sweet dew of her mouth.

Her fingers played in the golden mass of his hair, drawing him down to press closer still. He came willingly, savoring the feel of her so pliant in his arms. Their bodies clung close, and a surge of arousal flowed through him, electric in intensity, when he felt Catherine’s taut nipples pressed tight against his chest through the thin tee shirt she wore. Desire flooded their Bond, pulsating, volcanic. Boldly he tightened his embrace, pulling her even closer, feeling her mold herself to him.

The steel door behind them began to retract. They stepped apart only seconds before three young boys entered the tunnel and yanked on the lever to close the door once more. Geoffrey looked up in surprise to find Vincent and Catherine standing there. "Hi!"

Catherine recovered first. "Geoffrey, Zak. Hello, Kipper."

"Were you careful coming though the drainage tunnel?" Vincent asked them, his voice a bit shaky, his breathing somewhat uneven.

"Yep," confirmed Kipper. "Don't worry. We're always careful."

"We gotta go. Bye!" In seconds, the disturbed dust of their passage was all that remained of their so-sudden appearance.

Catherine took a deep breath. "I suppose...I should go."

Vincent nodded, his head lowered, carefully avoiding her eyes. "Perhaps that would be best."

"No, it wouldn't," she contradicted ruefully. "I'd like nothing better than to stay and...continue what we were doing."

He glanced up at her, surprised. When he saw the regret shining in her eyes, he knew she meant what she'd said.

Catherine sighed heavily. "But I've got one very suspicious, very pregnant houseguest to placate."

Vincent found he could smile. "Then I shall see you again...very soon...with your houseguest."

She quirked a lopsided smile. "Soon."

He levered the steel door open and stood in the passageway watching her vanish into the early evening dusk. As she disappeared, he touched his mouth with his fingertips, tracing them lightly. Mere moments ago, Catherine's mouth had been there, loving his. His fingers trembled as he closed his eyes and remembered.